Had Scott been angry that she had traded shifts with Nina without checking with him first? Maybeangrywas too strong a word, but he had probably been annoyed. He always wanted everything to be perfect and orderly under his command. Too bad he was overseeing ordinary people and not robots. People were messy a lot of the time.
Shelby pawed at Lily’s leg, bringing her out of her reverie. “Come on,” she told the dog. “We have to keep searching.” She couldn’t give up on Jackson yet.
NO ONE ANSWEREDScott’s knock on Lily’s apartment door shortly after four thirty Friday afternoon. He had tried texting, then calling, but she wasn’t answering. Was she that upset with him? He pounded on the door again, harder this time.
The door of the apartment next to Lily’s opened. A scowling man leaned out. “She’s not home,” he said.
Scott stepped back and sized up the man. Mid-forties, bags under his eyes, in need of a shave. “Do you know where she went?” he asked.
“She and her dog left early this morning. I was heading out to for my shift driving a county plow just as she was coming out. She works ski patrol.”
“Right. But she wasn’t at work today. I’m her boss.”
“Huh.” Bushy eyebrows drew together in a sharp vee. “She had her skis and pack and the dog and everything, all loaded into her car. I don’t know where she was heading.”
Her car. But she usually took the shuttle to work. “Thanks.” He turned to leave.
“I hope she’s okay,” the man called after him. “She’s a sweet girl. Great dog, too.”
Scott returned to his motorcycle, but stopped beside it to survey the cars in the lot. Lily’s Outback wasn’t there—so where was she?
She had called Nina at six this morning, and said she had “something she had to take care of.” Then she had left here with her skis, gear and dog. She was worried about Jackson. She thought he was still alive, alone in the wilderness.
A cold knot formed in his stomach. She had gone to search for Jackson—he was sure of it. She had gone by herself, not telling anyone where she was headed. It broke every rule of wilderness safety.
But understanding softened the edge of his anger. Lily had gone out because she cared. He hadn’t let himself believe her conviction that Jackson was still alive, so she hadn’t been able to turn to him for help. Maybe his dismissal of her concerns had kept her from confiding in anyone else. She probably felt she had no choice but to conduct a search on her own.
Hunter hopped into the sidecar, and Scott mounted the motorcycle and started it. “We’re not headed home just yet,” Scott said, and patted the dog’s neck. The first thing he had to do was find some transportation that wasn’t a motorcycle. He’d never make it where he needed to go on the bike.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, then selected a name. “Hey, Brian, it’s Scott. I need a favor.”
“Sure, Scott.” The easygoing patroller and his golden retriever, Daisy, had similar sunny attitudes, though both were good at their jobs.
“I need to borrow your truck,” Scott said. “Maybe overnight. Something’s come up and the motorcycle isn’t going to cut it traveling any distance in this weather.”
“Sure. You can use my truck. Is everything all right? Anything I can do?”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Could I come get it now?”
“Sure.”
Scott ended the call before Brian could ask for more details. He started the motorcycle and rode the few miles to Brian’s duplex. He exchanged his bike keys for the truck keys, loaded up Hunter, then headed back to his apartment, where he collected skis, avalanche beacon, and a pack full of food, water and emergency gear. He had enough supplies to at least get him to Lily and bring her to safety.
All he had to do now was find her.
He drove to the avalanche site. Long shadows stretched over the snowfield, darker pools where people had been digging, lighter shades where the snow was still untouched. The cleared-out space where rescue vehicles had parked was empty. He drove slowly past the lot, back onto the road. She wouldn’t have wanted to leave her car where it would stand out. So she would have left it nearby, but not in an obvious place.
He found it a few hundred feet from the parking area, a blue Subaru Outback snugged up against a tall pine. He was sure this was Lily’s car.
Scott parked the truck next to the Outback, let Hunter out, then began unloading his gear. He shoved extra supplies in his pack and called for the dog. The big Lab was sniffing all around the Subaru, tail wagging. “Do you smell Lily and Shelby?” Scott asked.
He walked over and peered through the windows of the Subaru. Nothing to see. Of more interest were the ski tracks leading away from the vehicle. He followed the tracks along the edge of the avalanche field, to the place where they had discovered Jackson’s pack. He spotted tracks of a dog, headed into the woods, the ski tracks alongside them.
He wasn’t a trained tracker, but it didn’t take an expert to identify the place where Lily had removed her skis. The terrain was too crowded with obstacles to make skiing safe, which was why he had left his own skis behind at the truck. He continued on foot, sinking to his knees in softer snow only occasionally, following Lily’s and Shelby’s tracks. A few feet into the woods, the shadows deepened. Cold crowded around him. He shoved his goggles on top of his helmet and donned a head lamp. “Lily!” he shouted. “Shelby!”
He stepped into a hole, lost his balance and ended up sprawled in the snow. He lay there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Hunter bounded over and nudged at him, whining.
“I’m okay.” He shoved onto his knees, then stood. Now he was the one being foolish, stumbling around in the dark. He should go home. If Lily hadn’t returned to her apartment by morning, he could call the sheriff.
