Chapter Two
The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity, from marking hazards to tending to injured skiers.
By four o’clock, all the lifts on the mountain shut down.
Scott and Lily released the dogs from the kennels and closed the patrol shack for the night, switching off lights and the heater and locking the door.
At four forty-five, they began their sweep of the runs, making sure everyone was cleared off the mountain before dark.
Lily and Shelby skied May Day, a long, wide run that ran for over a mile, all the way to the base area.
This was her favorite time of day, when they had the snow all to themselves.
Shelby, rested up and full of puppy energy, ran ahead of Lily, legs stretched out, puffs of snow flying up around her at each landing.
Occasionally she stopped and rolled in the snow, the picture of pure joy.
Lily made long, sweeping turns, checking both sides of the run for any skiers or snowboarders who might have fallen or simply stopped to rest. Across the mountain, all the lift chairs hung empty and still, and lights began to bathe the ski village at the base in a golden glow, in anticipation of growing dusk.
Back at the base, she stowed her gear in her locker and fed Shelby her supper.
A national pet food supplier donated a diet designed for active dogs to the ski patrol, so whenever they were working, meals were covered.
While Shelby ate, Lily swapped her uniform for leggings and a tunic sweater.
Then she grabbed her day pack and parka and headed for the shuttle stop.
At her apartment, she transferred Shelby and her belongings to her car and set out again.
Fifteen minutes later, Lily was at the gate to the Endicotts’ property. She lowered her car window and leaned out to press the intercom button. “Hi, it’s Lily Alton,” she said.
“Jackson’s waiting for you,” a gruff but not unfriendly voice said.
Mike Swanson was Denny Endicott’s right-hand man.
The title on his business cards said senior analyst, but after Jackson’s mother passed away when the boy was three, Mike had taken over as a kind of household manager/chief adviser to the busy executive.
The two had apparently known each other since college.
He was actually the person who had hired Lily to be Jackson’s nanny six years ago.
The gate swung open, and Lily guided the Subaru up the winding drive and parked in a slot to the left of the garage.
Shelby bounded out after Lily and ran to the open back door, where Mike waited.
He was only a couple of inches taller than Lily’s own five foot six, but he had the muscular build of a wrestler and the round face and bald head of a cherub.
He bent to pet the dog, then looked up at Lily.
“Denny said he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to meet you.
He’s entertaining some important clients. ”
“You aren’t going with him?” she asked. Mike played a big role in the operation of Endicott Industries, also.
“I have a meeting of my own tonight.”
The door from the kitchen to the rest of the house burst open and Jackson rushed in. “Shelby!” he cried, and dropped to his knees to embrace the dog.
Shelby, tail wagging exuberantly, licked Jackson’s face while the boy giggled wildly.
“That’s enough,” Mike said. “Remember what happened last time you got Shelby too excited.”
Behind his back, Lily made a face. The incident in question involved Shelby racing through the house with an expensive velvet throw in her mouth, flying out behind her like a flag while Jackson, shouting at full volume, raced after her.
At least one imported vase—not to mention the throw—were casualties of the chase.
Lily had spent most of the rest of the night terrified that she would spend the rest of her life paying back the cost of the damaged items. Fortunately, Denny had only laughed at Jackson’s delight over the story.
“Jackson says it wasn’t your fault, and I believe him,” Denny had said. “But try not to let it happen again.”
Jackson stood. “No chases, I promise,” he said. “What kind of pizza do you want, Lily?”
They had a tradition of ordering pizza whenever she babysat. “How about pepperoni?” she asked. It was Jackson’s favorite. Hers too, as it happened.
Mike took a suit jacket from the back of a kitchen chair and slipped it on. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Don’t forget to set the alarm behind me.”
She followed him to the back door and waited until he was in his car before she pressed the code to arm all the outside doors and windows. She guessed being a billionaire meant you had to be more careful about security, though she had always felt safe here in this beautiful, quiet home.
They ordered pizza, then headed for the den, where Jackson demolished her in a game of Slime Rancher.
The doorbell rang. “Pizza!” Jackson shouted.
“I’ll get it.” Lily hurried to the door, Shelby trailing behind.
She checked the security peep, her hand already on the doorknob, but stopped short.
The man on the other side of the door—tall, long-faced, prominent nose, close-cropped dark hair graying at the temples—was not the pizza delivery person.
He wore dark slacks and a blazer and carried no delivery bag.
She pressed the intercom. “Can I help you?”
“It’s Preston. I’m here to talk to Mike. Who are you?”
“I don’t know a Preston.”
“I’m a new hire for Endicott Industries. Look, here’s my ID.” He held up a card with the Endicott Industries logo and his photo. He was identified as Preston Smith, Data Specialist. She scrutinized it, then opened the door, leaving the chain on. “Mike isn’t here,” she said.
“Who are you?” he asked.
His demanding tone annoyed her. “I’m the babysitter.”
Jackson moved in beside her. “Hello, Jackson,” Preston said. “Would you please tell the babysitter I really do work for your dad?”
Jackson scowled. “He works for Dad,” he said.
“Do you want to leave a message for Mike or Mr. Endicott?” Lily said.
“Why don’t you let me in, and I’ll write a note to leave.”
She shook her head. “Not going to happen. I don’t care if you are an employee, I don’t know you and Mike isn’t here.”
He frowned and pocketed his ID card once more. “How long have you been babysitting for Mr. Endicott?” he asked.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Where did Mike go?”
“He said he had a meeting.”
“Who was he meeting with?”
“I don’t know. I think you’d better leave now.
” She didn’t like this man or his attitude.
She started to close the door but saw headlights sweep up the driveway.
A battered compact car with a lighted sign for the pizza restaurant on the roof stopped in the driveway, behind a black pickup she assumed belonged to Preston Smith.
Smith turned to watch the young man with the pizza head up the driveway. He stepped to one side. “Good night,” he said, and headed for his truck.
The pizza guy looked from the truck to her. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“Just stay here until he’s gone,” she said. She punched in the code to disarm the security system, then lifted the chain and opened the door all the way.
“Sure.” He handed over the pizza, and they waited silently until the truck was out of sight.
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem.”
She closed and locked the door, reset the alarm, then carried the pizza into the living room. Jackson sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. Shelby settled beside him, all her focus on the pizza. “I don’t like that guy,” Jackson said.
“Preston Smith?”
“Uh-huh.”
Smith certainly hadn’t impressed her. “Why don’t you like him?” She opened the pizza, slid a slice onto a plate and passed it to Jackson.
“He’s just—sneaky. Like, I caught him coming out of Dad’s home office once when Dad wasn’t home. He said he left some papers for Dad to look at but I think it was just an excuse to snoop.” He took a bite of pizza. “Mike doesn’t like him, either.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, please.” Lily chose her own slice of pizza. “Why did your dad hire him, I wonder?”
Jackson swallowed and took a drink of Dr Pepper. “He’s supposed to be some genius or something. Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t let him in.”
“You should never let anyone in the house you don’t know,” she said. “Especially if your dad or Mike isn’t here.”
“Yeah. I know.” He offered a piece of pizza crust to Shelby, who gobbled it up. “You could have threatened to sic Shelby on him.”
Lily smiled at the dog, who was begging for more pizza. Shelby looked fierce, but she was really a cream puff. “Shelby isn’t that kind of dog. She’s bred to help people, not fight them.”
“I guess so.” Jackson reached for a second slice of pizza. “Are you working again tomorrow?” he asked.
“I am. Saturday is our busiest day.”
“I wish I was going to be there,” Jackson said. “But Dad said he won’t get home until late, so I have to wait until next week.”
“The snow may be even better next week,” Lily said.
“Do you like your new job?” he asked.
“I do.”
“That guy you were with today—he’s your boss?”
“Yes. Scott is in charge of the avalanche dog program.”
“He seemed nice.”
Scott was…complicated. Like most people, she expected.
Not the most charming man she had ever met.
But everyone described him as “firm but fair.” His insistence that Shelby be recertified for her Level B annoyed her, but he was clearly the kind of her person to cross all his t’s and dot all his i’s.
And she had faith in Shelby. The dog was still young, but so smart and eager to please.
After pizza, they watched a movie. Jackson fell asleep before the end, and Lily woke him to put him to bed. Then she and Shelby relaxed on either end of the sofa, a rom-com she had selected from the Endicotts’ endless streaming choices playing low on the television.