Danger Zone (K-9 Avalanche Rescue #1)

Chapter One

“Look at the dog!”

“Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!”

“I didn’t know they allowed dogs on the ski runs.”

“It’s a ski patrol dog. Look at its red vest.”

“Shelby! Come!”

Patroller Lily Alton skied to a stop a short distance from the tourists clustered around her Belgian Malinois, Shelby.

A woman in a purple ski suit, two men in black pants and brightly colored jackets, and two little boys with shark fins on their ski helmets stood with a third man, who was eating a hot dog.

The blonde dog with black muzzle was sitting at attention, focused on the hot dog. “Shelby, come!” Lily repeated.

Shelby jumped to all fours and whirled around.

Upon spotting Lily she let out an excited bark and bounded across the snow toward her.

The dog leaped into the air, slamming her front paws into Lily’s chest. Lily bent backward, but managed to stay upright with her arms full of fifty pounds of squirming fur.

All around her, people began to laugh and applaud. Lily forced a smile and managed to set the dog down without injuring either of them. “What’s its name?” A teenage girl skied up.

Lily winced as the girl’s skis skimmed only a few inches from Shelby’s paws. The dog was standing still now, looking from Shelby to the girl, plumed tail gently fanning the air.

“This is Shelby,” Lily said. “She’s one of seven avalanche search dogs here at SkyCrest Resort.”

“Can I pet her?” One of the shark-fin-helmeted boys had joined them.

“You can. And thanks for asking.”

Shelby’s whole body wiggled with delight as the kids patted her. The dog sat, then slid to the ground, until she was writhing in the snow, both children rubbing her belly and giggling.

“Would you like a trading card?” Lily took two of the cards, which featured a color photo of Shelby on the front and details about her and SkyCrest’s avalanche dog program on the back.

“Ooh, yes please,” the girl said.

Lily handed out the cards. “You can collect the whole set,” she said. “There’s one for each of the avalanche dogs here at SkyCrest.”

“Thanks!” the boy said.

Lily’s radio crackled. “Alton. What’s your twenty?” The crisp voice of Patrol Director Scott Linden cut through the static.

“I’m at the bottom of lift one,” Lily replied.

“Well, get over here. We’re all waiting on you.”

“Ten-four.” She clicked off the radio. “Shelby, come!” she called.

“Sounds like Scott is in his usual sunny mood,” she told the dog when she pranced up to her.

Shelby wagged her tail in reply. Nothing the grumpy patrol director said seemed to affect the dog’s sunny mood. If only Lily could adopt the same attitude.

She skied to patrol headquarters, left her skis in the rack at the bottom of the steps, then knocked snow off her boots as she stomped up the steps to the door.

A wave of warmth hit her as she stepped inside, followed by the smell of damp dog.

Shelby trotted past her to greet Hunter and Darth, the two black Labs in the corner, then moved on to lick the goldendoodle, Farley, in the face.

She ended her rounds at the feet of a tall blond man who frowned down at her.

Shelby sat and looked up at the man expectantly.

The man, Ski Patrol Director Scott Linden, turned to Lily. “Why were you late, Alton?” he asked.

“A group of guests stopped me to ask questions,” Lily said. Part of their job as ski patrollers was to interact with guests.

“The rest of patrol doesn’t seem to have as much trouble getting to meetings on time as you do,” Scott said.

“That’s because we’re not showstopper blonds,” patroller Chase Sergeant said from his perch by the lockers. He held up his hands. “I was referring to Shelby, of course.”

The dog in question had flopped onto her side, eyes closed. She was definitely a striking pup, her pale gold hair tipped with black, black socks, black upright ears and muzzle, and brown eyes that appeared to be lined with kohl.

Lily had light brown hair worn in a braid that hung from beneath her black ski helmet, an accessory that obscured most other features. So yeah, she was sure Shelby was definitely the one attracting all the attention as the pair traveled through the resort.

Scott stepped over Shelby to reach the middle of the patrol shack.

In addition to the four dogs, the small space was crammed with seven patrollers, half a dozen pairs of skis, two toboggans, several backpacks, orange cones, rolls of snow fence, coils of yellow nylon rope, four shovels, a bundle of avalanche probes, two cardboard boxes overflowing with ski patrol T-shirts and an inflatable palm tree.

“Sergeant and Donaldson, you’re at Buttermilk Basin this morning,” he began, reading from a clipboard.

“Iverson and Castro, I want you at the Glades. Milk Run is closed to the public for race practice, so you’ll want to keep an eye on that.

Raz, I want you here at post one. Alton, you’re with me at Top of the Mark. ”

Lily kept her expression neutral, even as she groaned inwardly.

Shelby raised her head and met her gaze, always in tune with Lily’s mood.

Scott had an excellent reputation as a skilled patroller, but he had all the charm of a drill sergeant.

At least his dog, Hunter, was a genuine sweetheart.

The big black Lab stood now and stretched, front and back, then shook vigorously, his patrol harness jingling.

“Weather reports show a storm coming in after seven tonight.” Scott continued reading from the clipboard. “They’re calling for three to six inches overnight. Five a.m. start tomorrow.”

This elicited groans from the gathered patrollers, though the early callout was routine on mornings after a snowstorm. They would spend hours on avalanche mitigation before the slopes could safely open to visitors.

“I’ll have the ammo ready.” Connor Donaldson, Farley’s handler, was in charge of the explosives used for triggering controlled slides in inbound terrain.

“Alton.”

Scott’s voice had her sitting at attention. “Yes, sir?”

“We need to schedule Shelby’s Level B certification,” Scott said.

“Shelby already has her Level B certification,” Lily said. “She received it last May.”

“That was at Kingdom Mountain,” Scott said.

“Yes.” Lily had patrolled at Kingdom Mountain ski resort, west of here, for six years before the resort had shut down last spring, the last year with Shelby. They had transferred to SkyCrest, owned by the same corporation, this fall.

“I want you to recertify for SkyCrest,” Scott said.

The room had fallen silent, everyone watching and listening to this exchange. “Shelby was certified by Wasatch Backcountry Rescue,” Lily said. “She shouldn’t need to be recertified.”

“She’s a new dog for us,” Scott said. “I have no idea of her capabilities. I want her recertified. I’ll set up the test in a few weeks and get back to you.”

She stared, speechless. Part of her wanted to protest that he was only doing this because he hadn’t wanted Lily and Shelby on his team to begin with.

Management had announced the addition to patrol without consulting him and that, apparently, had irritated him.

That didn’t give him the right to take it out on her and her dog.

But pointing this out wasn’t going to win her any points with him.

He was going to make her prove herself. She stood.

“Fine,” she said. Shelby rose also. “We’ll be ready. ”

Her gaze locked to his for a brief moment.

She was prepared to see a lot of emotions in his gaze—anger, disdain or even dismissal.

What she didn’t expect was the flicker of heat his direct stare sent through her.

His hazel eyes weren’t exactly friendly, but they were definitely—interested.

Scott scrutinized her as if she was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. As if he wanted to figure her out.

She looked away as he dismissed everyone with his usual “be careful out there.”

“I’ll meet you up top,” she mumbled, and hurried out of the lift shack, Shelby at her heels.

“Hey, Lily!” She paused and waited for Connor to catch up. Farley tackled Shelby and the two dogs rolled in the snow, then popped up and shook themselves, panting happily.

“Don’t let Linden get to you,” Connor said. With his shaggy ginger hair and clipped beard, he bore a passing resemblance to his dog. They definitely shared the same soulful brown eyes.

“What is his problem?” she asked. “He treats me like I’m a brand-new trainee who’s never been on snow before.”

Connor grimaced. “I think it’s because you’re the only dog handler he didn’t personally select and train.”

“So he knows more than Wasatch Backcountry Rescue and C-RAD?” Colorado Rapid Avalanche Deployment was the premier organization in Colorado for training and deploying avalanche dog teams for immediate response to avalanches anywhere in the state.

Lily and Shelby had completed multiple classes with Wbr and C-RAD.

Connor shrugged. “Scott founded the dog program here. It’s his baby.”

“That doesn’t give him license to act like a jerk.”

The man himself exited ski patrol headquarters in time to hear this announcement.

His head snapped up, and he turned in Lily’s direction.

Now she’d done it. Well, she didn’t care if he knew what she thought of him.

She raised her chin, defiant, then planted a pole and skied away, Shelby bounding alongside.