“The idea is to hurl them as far as you can, but yeah. You saw the cast boosters. They’re not that big. We’ve learned over time where to aim them for the best effect.”
“So anyone who had worked with you before would know how to deploy the explosives to set off an avalanche?”
“Anyone who worked for us or any other resort.”
“Any names come to mind?” she asked. “Former employees, particularly disgruntled ones.”
“The only former employee I know about is the guy who had my job before this, and he left to work for C-RAD—Colorado Rapid Avalanche Deployment. He’s not disgruntled, and his partner is one of the other patrollers. He’s about the last person I’d see doing anything like this.”
“Think about it, and let me know if you think of any possible suspects.”
“Come on. Let’s check out a few other locations.”
They spent the next three hours on a tour of every avalanche-prone area of the resort, from windblown cornices to steep couloirs. Most of the terrain was out of bounds, the paths of the snow released in an avalanche spilling onto inbounds runs. By the time they slipped back under the ropes and onto a wide, groomed run, Stacy’s muscles ached from exertion, and she had a new respect for the work Connor and his team did.
“Is anyone ever hurt on the job?” she asked. “It seems like one mistake, and you could blow off your hand. Or worse.”
He shook his head. “It could happen, but I’ve never known it to. Everyone trains to safely handle what is basically dynamite, and we all have a healthy respect for what it can do.” He tilted his head, thinking. “The first year I was working here, a couple skied up to the patrol shack where I was stationed and said there were a handful of orange canisters on the edge of a run. They were all marked Danger: Explosives. Me and the guy I was with raced over there, and sure enough there were half a dozen cast boosters scattered under the trees. Later, we figured out they had fallen out of a pack on the back of a snowmobile. We recovered them all and nobody was hurt, but I’ve been paranoid about securing the things ever since.”
She looked out across the run to the view of snowy mountains beyond. “I’m a little disappointed we didn’t see anythingsuspicious this afternoon,” she said. “It would have been nice to catch the thieves before they hurt anyone.”
“Maybe you’ll learn something from the meeting Friday.”
“Have you changed your mind about going with me?”
He shook his head. “Not a chance.” He planted his ski poles. “Feel like one more run before we get some lunch? An easy one, I promise.”
“Sure.”
He led her into the trees, cutting through thick powder that felt like floating. She followed him through the white trunks of aspen, terrain like a Japanese woodcut. They had the run to themselves, the thick snow muffling the sound of their passing, enveloping them in a silence that felt magical.
By the time they emerged onto a wide, groomed run, something had shifted between them. He hadn’t let down his guard completely, but she thought he was beginning to trust her more, or at least to resent her less.
Two preteen girls flagged them down. Connor skied to a stop beside them. “Do you need some help?” he asked.
“Oh no.” One of the girls grinned, flashing braces with purple bands. “We were just wondering if you had any trading cards?”
“We’re collecting them,” said her companion, in a green helmet spangled with glitter.
“Sure.” Connor unzipped his jacket and took out what almost looked like playing cards. He handed one to each girl and one to Stacy. She looked at the picture of Farley, standing against the backdrop of the mountains, flashing the tip of his pink tongue in a canine grin.
“Farley!” The green-helmeted girl squealed as she read the card. “He’s so cute!”
“Thanks,” the girl with braces said. “We don’t have this one yet. We’re trying to collect them all.” She tucked the card into her jacket, and the two girls skied away.
“Farley has fans,” Stacy said as she admired her own card.
“All the dogs have them. It’s a way of creating awareness about the avalanche dog program. And kids like them.”
“I like them.” She tucked her card away. “Why isn’t Farley with you now?”
“Running around on snow all day wears a dog out. We don’t want them exhausted if they’re needed for a rescue.” He checked his watch. “But it’s about time for him to get some exercise.”
They skied down to the base area, and Connor unlocked the door to the ski patrol office. He released Farley from his kennel. The dog raced around, making tight turns in the small space, then flopped onto his back at Stacy’s feet. Laughing, she rubbed his belly.
Belly rub over, the dog sat upright, and Connor handed him a biscuit. “I need to take him out for a bit,” he said. “If you want to get something to eat, I brought a sandwich from home.”
“All right. I’ll meet you back here.”
