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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: Peril at Granite Peak
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I was already leaning sideways in my chair to see past Joe. Two men were getting in each other's faces over near the entrance.

“Whoa,” Chet said. “Isn't that what's-his-name from earlier? Joe's crash test dummy?”

“Stanley Wright,” I said. “Who's the other guy?”

I glanced at Josie, but she wasn't paying any attention to us anymore. She was staring at the two men, looking worried.

“Oh no,” she muttered. Without another word, she ran off toward the kitchen.

Joe shrugged. “I don't know who the other guy is. But he looks like he could squash our pal Stanley like a bug.”

He had a point. The second man was a tall, buff-looking guy in his late twenties. Based on his build, he was no stranger to the gym. He had to have a good fifty or sixty pounds on Stanley Wright. All of it muscle.

“Should we go over there and try to break it up?” Joe said.

Before Chet or I could answer, a man burst out of the kitchen. I vaguely recognized him as a lodge employee—he'd helped carry our bags in from Chet's car when we'd arrived the day before. He was in his forties, almost as tall as Mr. Muscles but a lot leaner. Still, he looked like the kind of guy you didn't want to mess with, if you know what I mean.

“That's enough, guys.” The employee's gruff voice wasn't very loud, but it carried. “Break it up.”

The taller man immediately took a step back. “Sorry,” he told the employee. “Just a little difference of opinion, that's all.” He glared at Stanley Wright. “Just stay out of my face, dude,” he snapped. “Or else!” He turned on his heel and stomped out of the dining room.

“Wow, that Stanley makes friends everywhere he goes, doesn't he?” Joe said.

“Yeah.” I'd just spotted Cody's mom hurrying toward our table, followed by a young woman in her twenties with sleek dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“Hello, boys,” Mrs. Gallagher greeted us. “Having an early dinner, huh?”

Chet patted his belly. “Yeah. Snowboarding really works up an appetite.”

“We had a blast today, though,” I said. “We can't wait to get out there again tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Joe grinned. “I can't speak for these two, but I'm thinking I'll be ready to enter the next Winter Olympics any day now.”

Mrs. Gallagher chuckled, but she looked distracted. She shot a slightly worried look at the TV hanging over the bar at one end of the room. It was tuned to the weather forecast.

“Yes, well, I hope the storm holds off so you can keep enjoying the slopes,” she said. “In the meantime, I'd like you boys to meet another guest—this is Miss Poppy Song. She's on her own tonight, and I thought maybe you wouldn't mind if she joined you.”

“Sure thing.” I gestured to the empty chair between me and Joe. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks.” Poppy smiled gratefully at Mrs. Gallagher, then turned her bright, intelligent brown eyes to us as the lodge owner hurried off. “I'd feel like a total nerd sitting by myself.”

“Then why'd you come skiing by yourself?” Chet helped himself to another roll, then pushed the almost-empty basket toward her.

“I didn't. I was here with a group of friends, but they all chickened out when they heard about this blizzard that's supposed to hit tomorrow night.” Poppy selected a roll. “They left a couple of hours ago.”

“And you stayed?” Joe asked.

Poppy shrugged. “I didn't have much choice. My apartment's being fumigated, so I can't go home. I figured I'd rather ride out the storm here than get stuck sleeping on someone's couch.”

“So this blizzard is really coming, huh?” I glanced again at the TV, but we were too far away to hear what the reporter was saying.

Our waitress, Josie, arrived back at the table just in time to hear me. “We don't know that yet,” she said quickly, passing out glasses of water to all four of us. “It's still possible it could miss us. Anyway, they're expecting an update to the forecast in a little while. Until then, you should just relax and not worry about it, okay?”

“Sure, whatever,” Chet said. “I'm ready to order if you guys are.”

We placed our dinner orders, and Josie hurried away. Poppy took a sip of her water and glanced around the table.

“So now you know my story,” she said cheerfully. “What about you guys? Where are you from? How'd you end up here at Granite Peak Lodge?”

“Cody Gallagher—he's the owners' son, you know—was my camp counselor back in the day,” Chet said. “He invited me up here.”

“Old friends with the owners' son, huh? Interesting.” Poppy glanced at Joe and me. “What about you two? Did you go to camp with Cody Gallagher too?”

“Nope. We go to high school with Chet,” I said.

Joe grinned. “Yeah. And we're the only ones he could sucker into making the long drive up here in his old jalopy.”

“Very funny.” Chet frowned while Joe and I laughed. He was almost ridiculously proud of the junked-out old yellow roadster he'd fixed up himself. “The Queen doesn't appreciate your insults.”

“The Queen?” Poppy laughed. “Do you mean your car? Why do you call it that?”

“Because he's nuts,” Joe informed her.

Just then someone on the far side of the room let out a sharp whistle. Glancing over, I saw Mr. Gallagher standing near the bar, staring up at the TV.

“Hey, could everyone pipe down for a second?” he called out as the room went quiet. “They're about to update the forecast.”

Someone turned up the volume on the TV. The reporter's voice boomed out at us, sounding solemn and excited at the same time. Apparently the weather guessers had made up their minds: the blizzard was definitely headed our way.

And it was shaping up to be the Storm of the Century!

EXIT PLAN
4
JOE

S
URE WE DON'T HAVE TIME
for one more run?” I glanced over at the ski lift. There had been a few other people on the slopes that morning, but with each passing hour the numbers dwindled. Now car after car went clanking up the hill empty, and there was nobody waiting in line.

Frank checked his watch. “Better not. We've got a long drive ahead of us, and we don't want to take a chance of getting caught out on the roads when things get bad.”

That was my brother—Mr. Cautious. Mr. Responsible. Mr. Annoying. But in this case, I knew he was probably right. With the blizzard due to hit in a few hours, it was time to go.

Chet stuck out his tongue, catching a few flakes. It had started snowing lightly about an hour ago. According to the weather report we'd watched at lunchtime, the snow would start picking up within the next couple of hours and hit blizzard conditions soon after dark. And by the end, it could bring a whopping thirty inches of the stuff!

Yeah, it was definitely time to go.

We dropped off our skis and other rented gear at the equipment shed. Mr. Gallagher was there overseeing things.

“Taking off, boys?” he asked as he stacked Chet's skis against the wall.

“Uh-huh. We figured we'd better hit the road before the storm gets bad,” Frank said.

The lodge owner smiled, though it looked a little forced. “Can't say I blame you. This storm looks to be a monster. Hope you'll come back another time, though.”

“We will,” I promised. “This place is great.”

We headed into the main building. A roaring fire cast its glow over the spacious lobby. A bunch of people were over there, warming their hands and chattering excitedly about the coming storm. Several small children chased one another around the pile of luggage near the door, shrieking at the tops of their lungs.

“Looks like most people are on their way out,” Chet said. “We should hurry.”

Our suite was at the far end of the hallway upstairs. As
we reached it, the door opened and Josie hurried out with an armful of crumpled towels.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, stopping just in time to avoid running into us. “Sorry, didn't see you coming.”

“What, did Chet order room service when we weren't looking?” I joked.

Josie blinked, looking confused. “Huh?”

“You're a waitress,” I said. “Waitresses bring food, right?”

“Oh!” Her expression cleared, and she laughed. “Yes, I'm a waitress during mealtimes. The rest of the time I'm a maid. I was just making up your rooms for the night.” She shrugged. “The lodge is on a pretty tight budget these days, so we're all pulling double duty.”

“Wow.” I was a little surprised. “Okay, so Cody mentioned business has dropped off lately. But this place must still bring in the big bucks, right?”

Josie hesitated, looking uncertain. “Um, not exactly,” she said at last. “I mean, I probably shouldn't talk about this with guests, but since you guys are friends with Cody . . .”

“What is it?” Chet looked concerned. “Is the lodge really in that much trouble?”

Josie glanced up and down the hallway. “Sort of,” she said, lowering her voice. “Ever since those other resorts opened across the mountain, things have been pretty tight around here.” She bit her lip, which was quivering slightly. “If it gets any worse, I'm afraid I might not have a job much longer!”

I hated seeing a pretty girl look so upset. But I wasn't sure what to say to cheer her up.

“It'll be all right,” Frank said. “Business has to pick up again soon, right?”

Josie shrugged. “I hope so. But this blizzard isn't helping, you know? Everyone's leaving!” She sighed, blowing a strand of curly hair off her face. “At least you guys are still here, though.”

Frank, Chet, and I traded a guilty look. “Um, not exactly,” Frank said. “We were just coming upstairs to pack.”

“Really?” Josie's face fell. “Are you sure? I mean, the storm might not be as bad as they're saying. You know how those weather people like to exaggerate. We'll probably only get a few inches!”

“Maybe,” Frank said. “That's not what the weather forecast is saying, though.”

“They don't know everything!” Josie was starting to look and sound kind of crazed. “Seriously, this is a ski lodge. Snow is a good thing, right?”

“Sure.” Chet backed up a step. “Um, but my car doesn't have snow tires, and—”

“Everything okay over here?” a gruff voice interrupted.

I spun around, startled. The employee who'd broken up that fight last night was standing right behind us. Talk about stealthy! I hadn't even heard him coming.

“It's nothing, Rick,” Josie said quickly, squeezing the towels more tightly in her arms. “We were just talking.”

I glanced at the man's name tag. It read Rick Ferguson.

He caught my eye. “I hear you boys are taking off soon,” he said.

“Yeah.” I wondered if he was going to start begging us to stay too.

Instead he nodded curtly. “Let me know if you need any help getting your bags downstairs.” Then he glanced at Josie. “Mrs. G was looking for you down in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” Josie scurried off. Rick nodded at us again, then followed her more slowly.

“Wow,” Chet said as we pushed through the door to our suite, which was standing ajar. “Josie seemed really bummed out about this whole blizzard thing.”

Frank stepped over to the closet and pulled out his suitcase. “Can you blame her? It sounds like things are pretty bad for the lodge right now.”

“Maybe that's how that warning ribbon went missing yesterday,” Chet said. He grabbed a crumpled pair of jeans off the floor where he'd dropped them the night before. “Too few people trying to do too many things.”

“Maybe.” I traded a look with Frank, realizing we'd never filled Chet in on what we'd found in the bushes. Just as well. He'd probably accuse us of looking for a mystery where there wasn't one.

Or was there? Even if the warning ribbon could have blown off into the bushes, that rock definitely hadn't rolled itself on top of it.

“Yeah, maybe.” Frank shot a look at the window. The
curtains were pulled back, allowing us to see the fat, lazy snowflakes drifting steadily to earth. “But come on, let's get going before the storm gets any worse.”

I pushed all thoughts of missing ribbons out of my mind. It didn't matter now. We were leaving.

•  •  •

Fifteen minutes later we were back in the lobby. Chet dropped a duffel bag atop our pile of luggage, then fished his car keys out of his pocket.

“Let's find Cody and say good-bye,” he said. “Then I'll bring the car around and we can load our stuff.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I glanced around and spotted Cody right away. He was perched on an overstuffed leather armchair near the fireplace, watching those rowdy little kids we'd seen earlier. There were three boys and a girl, ranging in age from five-ish on down to barely walking. All four of them were clustered around Blizzard, patting her on the head or tugging on her shaggy fur. Her brown eyes had a soft, patient look as she nosed at one of the boys.

Cody spotted us coming and stood up. “You guys taking off?” he asked.

“Yeah. Sorry,” Chet said.

Cody shrugged. “No, it's okay. Seriously.” He smiled. “Trust me, I wouldn't expect you to stay through the Blizzard of the Century or whatever they're calling it.” He glanced around the lobby. “I'm surprised a few people are
actually planning to ride it out here. Even most of the staff has already cut out.”

He sounded resigned to the situation. “Yeah. Well, thanks for inviting us,” Frank said. “It was good meeting you.”

“Right,” I put in. “Don't worry, we'll be back.”

“Cool.” Cody smiled and lifted a hand to high-five all three of us. “Safe driving, okay?”

I laughed. “Easier said than done with Chet behind the wheel.”

Cody chuckled. “Some things never change.” He elbowed Chet. “Remember that time at camp when you crashed your bike into the—”

BOOK: Peril at Granite Peak
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