“Should we turn on our beacons?” she asked.
“Not yet. We have to go a ways before needing to worry about avalanche danger.” He took a pistol from his pack and slid it into the pocket of his jacket. She watched him, eyes wide. “We don’t know what we might be up against here, or who we might run into,” he said. “I want to be ready.”
“Okay.” He couldn’t read the emotion behind that single word.
“I was military police,” he added.
“Ah. That explains a lot.”
It explained the gun, maybe. He wasn’t sure what else she meant, and he hesitated to ask. No doubt she would have an interesting explanation, but he wasn’t ready for more dissecting of his character right now. “Come on.”
They squeezed around the gate and set out skiing side by side down the closed roadway. Dark green firs and the bare whitetrunks of aspen thickly lined the road on either side. They had been skiing about fifteen minutes when the road curved and the woods opened onto a view across a meadow up against the mountains. Rosy light bathed the snow-filled meadow in a pink glow and painted the mountain peaks in gold. Lily stopped and stared, her lips parted.
He skied up beside her. “What is it?” he asked. “What do you see?”
She turned toward him. She hadn’t lowered her goggles yet, and her eyes were damp. “It’s so beautiful,” she said.
She was beautiful, her face flushed from exertion and cold, lips so soft and inviting. Had he ever felt as awed as she looked now?
He forced his gaze away. “It’s too cold to stand around,” he said, and skied off.
She caught up with him, and they skied hard for the next mile, the dogs running ahead, then falling back to lope along in their tracks. After another half hour, they stopped and put on their avalanche beacons. They left the trees behind and steadily climbed, the only sound the squeak of their skis on the snow and their own labored breathing.
The sun was climbing overhead before they came to a wooden signpost that directed them to Pandora. The town itself was tucked into an open flat, or park, between two peaks. The buildings sat in the shadow of the mountains, snow piled halfway up the sides of most of the structures. The largest building, a former dormitory for miners, was missing half its roof and leaned precariously to one side, but several of the smaller structures—mine offices and miners’ homes—appeared intact except for a few broken windows.
“Why isn’t there anyone here?” Lily asked. She turned to him. “The sheriff’s deputies should be here, and Colorado Bureau ofInvestigation people. This should have been the first place they came.”
“Maybe they were here and left when they didn’t find anyone,” he said.
She turned to study the scene again. “I don’t see any tracks. It doesn’t look like anyone has been here since it snowed on Sunday.”
“Maybe this elevation got more snow last night,” he said.
She moved forward on skis, sliding right up to the front of the closest building. She leaned forward to peer into the window.
“See anything?” he called.
She shook her head. “And I don’t smell smoke. If someone was sheltering here, they’d have to build a fire, wouldn’t they, as cold as it’s been at night.”
It was still cold. Well below freezing, he guessed. The arctic chill stung his bare cheeks and had him tucking his gloved fingers into his jacket to try to thaw them.
They skied all the way around the ruins, but found nothing but a set of fox tracks and the smaller imprints of rodents.
“How did people ever live up here in the winter?” she asked when they were back at the entrance to the town. She glanced at the steep slopes on three sides. “Weren’t they worried about avalanches?”
“Avalanches are what finally drove people to abandon the town,” he said. “For a while I think they worked the mines in summer only, but then the gold played out completely. Everyone left shortly after the turn of the twentieth century.”
She hugged her arms across her chest and rubbed her shoulders. “It’s creepy.”
“Maybe we should go back,” he said. Initially, he had planned to ski past the town, maybe even over the ridge above. They might spot Jackson or his kidnapper. But looking up that steep slope, with its heavy blanket of snow, sent danger warningsthrough him. Steep slopes and fresh, heavy snow were prime conditions for an avalanche. He wouldn’t risk his life—much less Lily’s—on such a reckless foray.
“I’m ready to get out of here,” she said, and turned toward the trail back to her car.
The return trip took less time. They were traveling downhill and said little. As she was unlocking the car, Scott’s phone rang. He waited until they were inside, engine on and heater running, before he looked at the missed call. “I’ve got a message from Doug Elam,” he said. “I’d better see what he wants.”
He called his voicemail. Doug’s Georgia drawl was thick with agitation. “If you get this in the next five minutes, I need you and Hunter to the staging area below Axis Ridge. We’ve got a big slide, two people potentially involved.”
Chapter Nine
