Chapter Eleven #2
It took another half hour to dig out Paul. In the meantime, the dogs searched and the humans not involved in retrieving the man probed the snow with flexible ten-foot poles, alert to anything more soft and yielding than rock and ice.
Connor paused in his search to watch as Chase, Raz, and Anders carried a litter bearing Paul Leonard past, up the snowfield to one of the snowmobiles. From there he would be transported to the ski village, and taken by ambulance to the local hospital.
“Is he going to be all right?” Brian asked when Connor moved in beside him.
“His right leg is broken and he’s a little shocky, but he should be okay,” Connor said.
Too bad about Oliver. Neither man said the words out loud, but Brian was thinking them, and figured Connor was, too. The odds of anyone surviving being buried by an avalanche this long were minuscule.
Resort director of operations Doug Elam arrived a few minutes later.
Six feet tall with chiseled features and silver at the temples of his dark hair, Elam was often featured in magazine and newspaper articles about the resort and was a familiar figure on the slopes, not content to manage from behind a desk.
“How did this happen?” he asked Connor when he joined the others on the avalanche field.
Connor gave his explanation of warming temperatures and shifting rock. “As hard as we try to control the terrain, Mother Nature is unpredictable,” he concluded.
“No chance that this was human caused?” Doug asked.
“One of the snowboarders could have triggered it.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. I mean, did someone do something to deliberately trigger the slide?”
“I don’t think so,” Connor said.
“So not like last time,” Doug said.
By last time, he meant an inbound avalanche triggered deliberately in January by a group who had stolen explosives from ski patrol. Connor’s girlfriend, Stacy, had helped catch those responsible, but Brian didn’t blame Elam for being worried.
“How many people involved?” Elam asked.
“Three snowboarders. One of them escaped and called for help. He’s being checked out at the hospital because he was hit in the head by rocks. The second guy was only partially buried and is on his way to the ambulance now with a broken leg and shock.”
“I saw him just now,” Elam said. “And the third person?”
“No sign of him.”
Doug groaned.
“We’re going to have to call the search soon,” Connor said. “It’s getting too dark to see. The dogs and everyone else are exhausted. We’ll come back tomorrow and try again.”
“We’ll have to close this section of the resort,” Doug said.
“You’ll need to station security at the gate,” Connor said. “Once word gets out about this, there will be people eager to get a look.”
Doug flapped one gloved hand. “I’ll take care of all that. But don’t say anything to anyone about this—especially not the press.”
“I know the drill,” Connor said. “Everything goes through your office.”
“Make sure the other patrollers know that, too.” Doug turned away, and came face-to-face with Brian. “Brian Weeks,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
Brian blinked. “Sir?”
“I thought you were arrested. For murder.”
“I…I…” Brian swallowed and tried to pull himself together. “I was questioned and released. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“The young woman who was killed had been harassing Brian,” Connor said. “It’s unfortunate, but he didn’t have anything to do with her death.”
Doug pointed a finger at Brian. “You don’t talk to the press, either.”
“No sir. I won’t.”
Doug strode away. Brian stared after him, dry-mouthed and agitated.
“He can’t fire you just because the sheriff’s office questioned you,” Connor said. “He knows that.”
“I liked it better when he didn’t even know my name,” Brian said.
Connor gave him a sympathetic look, then keyed his radio.
“We’re calling the search at 4:17 p.m.,” he said.
“Go home and return tomorrow at seven.” He switched off the radio and turned to Brian.
“You go home, too.” He glanced down at Daisy, who lay sprawled on her side at Brian’s feet. “Take care of your dog.”
“Come on, Daisy.” The golden sat up, yawned, then stood and gave herself a shake. Brian patted her side. “Good girl.”
But the normally exuberant dog remained subdued as they climbed up the chute and made their way to the waiting snowmobile. Chase looked at Daisy and shook his head. “They’re never happy when they don’t find anyone, are they?” he said.
“No one’s happy when we don’t find anyone.” Finding a body wasn’t the outcome they wanted, but finding no one was worse. It meant a family had to wait longer to know what really happened to their loved one.
The glum feeling stayed with him all the way home. At his trailer, he thought about calling Chloe and telling her about what had happened. He always felt better after talking with her. But he couldn’t call her, could he? He had promised to leave her alone.
Instead, he gave Daisy a chew stick, then headed for the shower. But before he could undress, his phone’s ringtone broke the silence.
Chloe’s number filled the screen. His lawyer would tell him not to answer the call. But he couldn’t ignore her. “Hey, Chloe,” he answered.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, her voice strained. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
“You’re not bothering me.” She sounded so distressed. “What’s wrong?”
“I just got home from work. And…someone broke into my apartment.”
Brian took out his keys. “I’ll be right there.”