“That’s a lot of manpower.”
“Sure is. But remember, we have six hundred and thirty acres of skiing area around here, and we average forty searches a year. Most of them are successful.” Bruce Bowler looked out the window at the cold slate sky. “I sure wish this one had been.” He turned back to Dana. “Anyway, the ski patrol does a sweep every day after the lifts close.”
Dana said, “I was told that Julie Winthrop was used to skiing the top of Eaglecrest.”
He nodded. “That’s right. But that’s still no guarantee. Clouds can come in, you can get disoriented, or you can get plain unlucky. Poor Miss Winthrop got unlucky.”
“How did you find her body?”
“Mayday found her.”
“Mayday?”
“That’s our top dog. The ski patrol works with black Labradors and shepherds. The dogs are pretty incredible. They work downwind, pick up a human scent, go up to the edge of the scent zone, and work the grid up and back. We sent up a bombardier to the scene of the accident, and when—”
“A bombardier?”
“Our snow machine. We brought Julie Winthrop’s body back on a Stokes litter. The three-man ambulance crew checked her out with an EKG monitor and then took photographs and called a mortician. They took her body to Bartlett Regional Hospital.”
“And no one knows how the accident happened?”
He shrugged. “All we know is she met an unfriendly giant spruce. I saw it. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
Dana looked at Bruce Bowler a moment. “Would it be possible for me to see the top of Eaglecrest?”
“Why not? Let’s finish lunch, and I’ll take you up myself.”
They drove in a Jeep to the two-story lodge at the base of the mountain.
Bruce Bowler told Dana, “This building is where we meet to make our search-and-rescue plans. We carry ski-rental equipment here and we have ski instructors for those who want them. We’ll take this lift up to the top of the mountain.”
They slid onto the Ptarmigan chairlift, heading for the top of Eaglecrest. Dana was shivering.
“I should have warned you. For this kind of weather, you need propylene clothing, long underwear, and you have to dress in layers.”
Dana shivered. “I’ll r-remember.”
“This is the chairlift Julie Winthrop came up in. She had her backpack with her.”
“Her backpack?”
“Yes. They contain an avalanche shovel, a beacon that transmits up to fifty yards, and a probe pole.” He sighed. “Of course, that doesn’t help any when you slam into a tree.”
They were nearing the summit. As they reached the platform and they gingerly stepped off the chairs, a man at the top greeted them.
“What brings you up here, Bruce? Someone lost?”
“No. I’m just showing a friend the sights. This is Miss Evans.”
They exchanged hellos. Dana looked around. There was a warming hut that was almost lost in the heavy clouds. Had Julie Winthrop gone in there before she went skiing? And was someone following her? Someone who was planning to kill her?
Bruce Bowler turned to Dana. “Ptarmigan here is top of the mountain. It’s all downhill from here.”
Dana turned and looked at the unforgiving ground far, far below and shuddered.
“You look chilly, Miss Evans. I’d better take you down.”
“Thank you.”
Dana had just returned to the Inn at the Waterfront when there was a knock at her door. Dana opened it. A large, pale-faced man stood there.
“Miss Evans?”
“Yes.”
“Hi. My name is Nicholas Verdun. I’m from the Juneau Empire newspaper.”
“Yes?”
“I understand you’re investigating the Julie Winthrop death? We’d like to do a story on that.”
An alarm sounded in Dana’s mind. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m not doing any investigation.”
The man looked at her skeptically. “I heard—”
“We’re doing a show on around-the-world skiing. This is just one stop.”
He stood there a moment. “I see. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Dana watched him leave. How would he know what I’m doing here? Dana telephoned the Juneau Empire. “Hello. I wanted to talk to one of your reporters, Nicholas Verdun…” She listened a moment. “You don’t have anyone there by that name? I see. Thank you.”