“Looks like chunky beef stew,” Brian said. “Daisy really likes that one.”
“How did Cerise get into your lunch?” Lily asked.
“I stash my pack in her lift shack whenever I set gates for race training. It’s easier to haul the drill and all the stakes without the pack. I do that every week, and she never minds.”
“Except she wanted to get back at you, so she came prepared.” Lily giggled. “It’s pretty funny, when you think about it.”
“It might be funny if it happened to someone else.” Chase scowled down at his sandwich. “Now I don’t have a lunch.” He rewrapped the whole mess. “Guess I’ll get something from the grill.”
“What are you going to do with that sandwich?” Brian asked.
“I’m going to throw it away.”
Brian held out his hand. “I’ll take it.”
“Are you feeling hungry?” Connor asked.
Brian tucked the wrapped sandwich into his jacket. “Daisy can have an extra treat. No sense letting this go to waste.”
Shortly after 1:00 p.m., Doug radioed Connor. “How’s it looking out there?” he asked.
“Great snow conditions,” Connor said. “You should come do a few runs.”
“No time today. I’m buried under risk assessment studies.”
“Better you than me,” Connor said.
“Have you talked to Stacy lately?” Doug asked.
“No. Have you?”
“I managed to pin her down for a few minutes yesterday, but all she would say is that she is continuing her investigation, following up on some leads, and I shouldn’t worry. Why don’t you see if you can find her and get more information?”
“What makes you think she would tell me any more than she told you?” he asked.
“I got the impression she was pretty taken with you,” Doug said.
“I don’t think so.”
“I thought I definitely saw interest there. If you run into her, see if you can find out when she expects to wrap up her investigation. I’d really like to be able to tell my bosses that there’s no problem.”
“Missing explosives are a real problem, Doug. You can’t pretend they’re not.”
“If she finds them and we get them back, there won’t be a problem,” he said. “Just talk to her. See if you can get some bit of good news I can pass on to the people breathing down my neck.”
“I can’t promise anything, Doug.”
“Just try.” Doug didn’t wait for an answer but ended the call.
Connor turned toward patrol headquarters. Time to take Farley for a run.
Freed from his kennel, Farley raced in circles, biting atsnowflakes, then rolling in the snow. Then he leaped into Connor’s arms, and Connor heard the click of camera shutters all around as he skied toward the lift, his arms full of snow-covered dog.
He rode the lift from the base, then headed up a second lift to Top of the Mark. A sharp ridge loomed over the runs here, popular hike-to terrain. As usual, as he rode the lift, Connor scanned the runs below for any sign of trouble. In the thick snowfall, the skiers were blurs of color glimpsed behind a white curtain.
Two dark smudges cut across his field of vision. Snowboarders, in a hurry, moving against the flow of downhill traffic. Then they disappeared into a clump of trees.
Farley barked, and Connor looked down to see Lily and her dog, Shelby, racing down the slope. Connor held onto Farley’s harness. The dog had never jumped from the lift chair before, but no sense taking chances.
