“I bet she could. But don’t go burying yourself to see.”
“Okay.” They approached the top of the lift, and he faced forward. “See you!” he shouted as he sped away.
She spent the rest of the day patrolling at the terrain park and beginner areas, took Shelby out for a patrol midday, and did a safety demonstration—with Shelby’s help—for a ski school class. She kept an eye out throughout the day for Denny or Jackson Endicott, but saw neither of them. The image of Denny, torn jacket and beaten face, stuck with her.
The radio attached to her pack strap crackled to life. “All patrollers report to patrol base,” Scott’s voice was urgent. “I need you here now.”
Lily straightened her line and crouched over her skis in a racing stance. She sped past Shelby, who barked and ran after her. She crested the hill above the base and slowed only slightlyto avoid the clusters of tourists lingering at the bottom of the run, and skidded to a stop outside the door marked Patrol.
As she was stepping out of her skis, Chase, Connor and Livi Rasmussen—known to all as Raz—arrived. “What’s going on?” Chase asked.
“No idea,” Connor said, and the others shook their heads as well.
Inside the patrol office Anders Iverson, handler of the team’s second black Labrador retriever, Darth, was pulling out stainless steel dog dishes and filling them from one of the barrels, a half circle of attentive dogs focused on his every move.
Scott stopped Lily just inside the door. “Have you seen Jackson Endicott this afternoon?” he asked.
“Jackson? I rode up to Top of the Mark with him before lunch, but I haven’t seen him since.”
“You haven’t even caught sight of him in the distance on a run or while riding the lift?” Scott asked.
“No. Why?”
Scott looked at the other patrollers. “Do any of the rest of you know Jackson Endicott? Nine years old, a little over four feet tall, sixty-nine pounds, light brown hair and blue eyes. He’s wearing black ski pants and a blue Spider jacket and a black ski helmet. Atomic skis.”
The very precise description alarmed Lily. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Have any of you seen a kid like that this afternoon?” Scott asked.
The others shook their heads. Lily tugged on Scott’s arm. “What’s going on?” she asked again. “Has something happened to Jackson?”
His gaze met hers, worry deepening the lines at the corners of his eyes. “He’s missing. Someone reported seeing him goingthrough the backcountry gates a little before three o’clock. He hasn’t been seen since.”
Chapter Four
“Jackson is a good skier, but he knows he’s not supposed to ski out of bounds.” Denton Endicott was a big, burly man with a football linebacker’s build and a slight paunch. Incongruously, he also sported a black eye, the bruising faded to a yellowish-green. Though the pictures Scott had seen of him in the media depicted a powerful, commanding presence, worry for his only child had diminished him, hunching his shoulders and reducing his voice to a hoarse croak. “He’s never even asked to ski that terrain before,” he continued.
“We’re sending every patroller on duty to search for him right now,” Scott said. “The dogs will search, too.”
“Shelby knows him,” Lily said. “She’ll recognize him right away.”
Scott didn’t hide his annoyance at her interruption. “All the dogs are trained to seek out human scent,” he said. “They’ll key in on Jackson, even if he’s fallen or in an area where he’s hard to see.”
“When did you last see your son, Mr. Endicott?” The questioner was Sheriff Van Howard. Denton Endicott had called him in immediately after telling the resort about his concerns for his son. Scott imagined that hadn’t gone over very well with the resort’s top brass. They would have preferred to keep bad news from the public if at all possible. Even if Jackson had disobeyed his father and headed off-piste, there was a good chance the patrollers would locate him. The resort was big, but it wasn’t that big.
“We skied together down May Day right after lunch,” Endicott said. “I had a meeting, so I left Jackson to ski on his own. He’s been skiing since he was three and knows the resort as well as I do. He often skis by himself or with friends.”
“Was he with friends this afternoon?” the sheriff asked.
“No. He told me he was going to go over to the terrain park and play around there for a while.”
The terrain park was located off of Daisy Chain, halfway between Top of the Mark and Lift Four. Daisy Chain was also the closest run to the gates leading to the hike-to, inbound terrain. Those gates closed at 3:00 p.m.
“A lift tech reported a boy who fit Jackson’s description passing through the gate near Daisy Chain a few minutes before three,” Scott said.
“We got there right at three to secure the gate, and the liftie told us about it,” Chase said. Beside him, Raz nodded in agreement.
“You didn’t try to stop him?” Endicott asked.
