Page 10 of K-9 in Pursuit

She touched his arm. “Let me try to take care of it myself first,” she said. “It will be easier on everyone that way.”

He stood. “I’m glad I got the chance to talk with you. And thanks for being so understanding.”

He left before she could come up with a suitable reply, but afterward, she thought of all she might have said. Thanks for your patience. Or I see why Sharee was so attracted to you. Definitely better if the last was left unsaid. Brian Weeks was exactly the kind of man she’d go for, if she had room in her life for a relationship. But under the circumstances, better for her and her sister if they both kept their distance.

Chapter Three

“Brian and Anders, you’ll be patrolling in the Glades.” Connor read the last of Saturday morning’s assignments from a list on his tablet. “Any questions?”

“One question,” Brian said. “Has anybody seen my glove? I had it yesterday, and now it’s gone.” He held up a single black ski glove. “It looks like this, and it has my name written in marker inside the cuff.”

“No, but I’ve got an extra pair you can borrow,” Nina said.

“Thanks, but I don’t think your gloves are going to fit me,” Brian said. “Anyway, I’ve got an old pair. But these were pretty new. I must have dropped one somewhere on my way back here after the lifts closed yesterday.”

“Check lost and found,” Connor said. “Maybe somebody turned it in. Everybody ready?”

They headed outside to a sled loaded with boxes of cast boosters—the canisters of explosives used to trigger controlled slides in the inbound areas of the resort. Brian and Anders filled backpacks with the bright yellow canisters, along with detonator cords. Connor checked his pockets for his crimping tool and lighter, then he shouldered the heavy pack. Even though he had done this a hundred times, he never stopped being aware that he carried enough explosives on his back to blow a gigantic hole in the mountain.

He climbed onto a snowmobile behind Anders and they headed up the mountain, cutting across the pristine corduroy tracks left by the groomers who had worked overnight. The icy air cut like a knife across his bare skin and he tensed against its bite. He pulled his fleece neck gaiter up higher over his cheeks. Other snow machines raced ahead of them with the goal of covering the mountain before the lifts opened in two hours.

Anders stopped the snowmobile in the shadow of a lift tower, the first hints of dawn already lightening the snow around them. Silently, the two men strapped skis to their packs and began climbing up a steep ridge that ended in a cornice like a whitecapped wave about to break over the slopes below. Their goal was to trigger a series of small snowslides from that cornice to prevent a much larger slide from releasing later.

“Guess we’d better get to it,” Brian said. He pulled one of the canisters from his pack, attached the detonator and crimped it in place, then considered where he wanted to place the charge for the best effect. Then he took out the lighter, lit the fuse, reared back and hurled the canister to a spot underneath the cornice. “Fire in the hole!” he shouted, his cry echoing off the mountains above.

Anders repeated the warning as he launched his own charge. A long minute ticked off, then the charges fountained snow into the air and shook the ground with a loud concussion. Snow broke away from the cornice and cascaded down the ridge. Brian whooped and raised a fist in salute. Anders responded in kind. Sure, avalanche mitigation was dangerous, but he’d never let anyone tell him it wasn’t fun.

They skied down the ridge, setting more charges as they went, until they judged the area free of the possibility of any uncontrolled slides. Other charges echoed from around the resort, and they stopped to watch an impressive waterfall of snow flow down from Top of the Mark, where Connor and Lily were setting charges.

Chase Sargeant joined them as they were stowing their now-empty packs in the snowmobile. “Ski down with me,” he told Brian.

Brian turned to Anders. “You okay with that?” he asked.

“As long as you drive and I ski next time,” Anders said.

“It’s a deal.” Skiing all the way down the mountain in untouched powder was the perfect reward for the morning’s hard work, but someone had to return the snowmobile to base.

“Race you down!” Chase called, and took off.

Brian headed after him, his skis cutting a sharp line through deep, soft snow. He rode the undulating hills of this part of the resort, straightening at each crest, then crouching to take the downhill sections in a racer’s tuck.

He caught up with Chase on the last hill, and they skied side by side down the final approach to the base area, and slid to a stop in front of patrol headquarters, hearts pumping from the exertion and the thrill of the morning.

Brian went inside to retrieve Daisy, who had waited patiently in her kennel, along with the other avy dogs. “Thought I’d take Daisy with me for a couple of runs,” he told Connor, who was unkenneling his own dog, an apricot-colored goldendoodle named Farley.

“Have you heard anything more from Sharee?” Connor asked.

“I haven’t seen her,” Brian said. “I ran into her sister last night and talked to her again about what was going on and she promised to talk to Sharee about it. Guess it worked.”

“Next time, try to attract someone closer to your own age,” Connor said.

“Yeah. I’ll get to work on that.” An image of Chloe, so different from her sister, flashed into his mind. It was a shame they hadn’t met under different circumstances. “Come on, Daisy.”

The dog trotted up and leaned against his side, brown eyes gazing up at him adoringly. “Good girl.” Brian patted her side. At least he had one female in his life who would always love him.

CHLOE KICKED OFF her shoes as soon as she walked in the door of her apartment Saturday evening. She buried her feet in the soft rug and wiggled her toes. She’d been standing most of the day, and the pumps that had looked so cute in the store were definitely not designed for comfort.

Last night, she had arrived home after her talk with Brian to discover that Sharee had already gone out. Out with friends read the note scribbled on the back of a receipt and anchored by a can of peas in the middle of the kitchen table. By the time Sharee returned Chloe had fallen asleep on the sofa and didn’t have the energy to start the argument she knew would follow the mention of Sharee’s very inappropriate gift to Brian Weeks. So Chloe had made it a point to arrive home early tonight, in plenty of time for the sisters to talk.