The Replacement. Anne Duquette Marie

owner,” Keith urged.

      “Ginger, search,” Eric commanded. “Find Eva.”

      Ginger stood fast, signaled her find with a single whimper, then shook some of the snow from her coat.

      “Come on, everyone, dig!” Naomi said, pulling her glove back on and bending over the hole with her folding aluminum shovel.

      As Eric followed her example, premonition hit hard. His stomach lurched. Even before the three dug farther down to the motionless blue of Eva’s favorite jacket, even before Ginger sat and pointed her nose to the heavens to keen her death howl, Eric knew.

      Eva Jenkins, the fourth member of their winter ranger team, was dead.

      San Diego, California

       The next day

      LINDSEY NELSON PACED BACK and forth, the hem of her evening dress swishing as she continued to look for her date, peering through her apartment window every few minutes. A revival of The King and I, her favorite musical, had finally left Los Angeles to play at San Diego Civic Center. She’d been waiting for this performance for weeks, but Wade—the current man in her life—was late. Very late. Not only that, he had the tickets and she hadn’t eaten. Her stomach growled.

      If Wade doesn’t show up soon, we’re not going to have time for dinner.

      He’d called twenty minutes ago to say he was leaving work. Lindsey had made reservations at their favorite restaurant, a place with delicious fresh seafood and Napa Valley wines—but Southern California’s infamous rush-hour traffic could easily ruin the most carefully laid plans.

      Maybe I should order some food. We can have a quick bite here before we leave. It’ll have to be pizza or Chinese…. Where is he?

      Lindsey impatiently shoved her curtains aside once more, hoping to see Wade’s car in the parking lot. Definitely Chinese. I’m not eating pizza in this dress—and I’ll trade the chopsticks for a fork, too!

      She reached for the phone just as it rang. With a quick grab, she answered. “Wade, where are you? It’s late!”

      “I—” A pause. “Do I have the right number? Is this Ms. Lindsey Nelson? Ranger Nelson?”

      “Sorry, I was expecting another call. I’m Lindsey.”

      “Thank heavens. My name is Jack Hunter. I’ve been authorized by the Yosemite Ranger Station to contact you. Your office told me I could catch you at this number.”

      “Catch is the right word. I’m on my way out.” Lindsey heard the familiar honk of Wade’s car outside her window. “In fact, my ride’s here,” she said, trying to stem her impatience. “How can I help you, Mr. Hunter?”

      “Call me Jack. My job is to fill unexpected openings among high-risk ranger positions anywhere in the Historic Monument and National Park system.”

      “Well…Jack, I’m not interested in moving anywhere,” Lindsey said. “Look, could I take your number and call you back?” she asked as Wade beeped again impatiently. “I’m really very late.” Normally Wade wouldn’t do anything this rude, but he was obviously trying to save time.

      “Forgive me, but this is a matter of some urgency. We need a ranger up in Yosemite. Sadly, the opening’s come about because of a ranger down. Dead, I’m sorry to say.”

      “Not Eric Kincaide?” Lindsey asked, her chest tight with fear. “Or his twin, Naomi?”

      “A female—a dog handler named Eva. Did you know her?”

      “No.” Lindsey drew in a deep breath, her chest still tight, but with sorrow, not fear. A ranger dead? How? Why? Lindsey listened in horror as Jack explained.

      He concluded with, “As you know, Yosemite rangers are snowbound in the station during winter. We can’t fly anyone in due to the danger of avalanche. You’re a ranger without a dog, and we’ve got a dog without a ranger. You also have extensive experience in the snow. I understand you used to work in Yosemite.”

      “Yes, but that was more than four years ago. And it’s been almost as long since I’ve worked canine search-and-rescue.” Since she’d stopped working professionally with dogs and given up cliff-climbing, she’d gone back to her teenage loves—surfing and scuba diving. At present she was a ranger at La Jolla Cove, the only state diving park in California and one of only two in the United States, the other in Florida. “I’ve stuck exclusively to diver search-and-rescue.”

      “So I’ve been told,” Jack said briskly. “But we desperately need a replacement, Ms. Nelson. I know this is short notice, but it’s only until we open the park to the public and the summer ranger staff—maybe three months. Four, tops. I already cleared it with your present park supervisor. She assured me your regular position would be waiting when you return. Call her to confirm if you wish, then please call me back.”

      “That’s not the point, Mr. Hunter. I’ve already told you, I’m not interested in transferring anywhere, not even for a few months.”

      “I’ll be frank, Lindsey. We have a young child and her kidnapper at large in Yosemite. It’s her father—he escaped from jail. We won’t find them without a dog, and you’re the best chance we have of recovering the child.”

      Immediately Lindsey’s attention focused on the conversation. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

      “I’m saying so now.”

      Lindsey hesitated and regrouped. “Look, I want to help, but isn’t there anyone else? I don’t have enough winter gear left for a transfer,” Lindsey said uneasily, thinking of her present working wardrobe of swimsuit and dive gear. “I couldn’t pack in very much if I have to ski to the station.” Down below Wade beeped his horn again. Phone in hand, she hurried to the window and waved to him, holding up a finger and pantomiming Just a minute.

      “You could use the equipment that belonged to the ranger you’re replacing. All you’ll need are the most basic personal items. She was about your size.”

      Lindsey found herself being directed to a place she didn’t want to be, and suddenly realized that the man on the other side of the line was very good at directing reluctant rangers. “I don’t know. I’d prefer—”

      “Not to use the dog and equipment of a dead woman? Ms. Nelson, excuse my frankness, but we can’t pack them out, and you can’t pack your own stuff in. I hope you don’t have a problem with this. We’re talking about a child’s life. We need to find her, and we need you to handle the dog. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

      “Oh, I think you would, Mr. Hunter,” Lindsey said, deliberately not using his first name. “I also imagine you don’t make too many friends in your position—railroading rangers—if you are indeed legit.”

      “Call it whatever you want. And I’m legit.”

      Lindsey took in a deep breath. “Before we settle on anything, let me explain something. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I left Yosemite because I couldn’t work with Eric Kincaide.” The man I loved. The man I was supposed to marry. The man who said he loved me. “I understand he’s still there. Believe me, I’m the last person he’d want to see. And I never got along with his sister, or she with me. In the interests of teamwork and harmony, especially under these circumstances, I’d suggest—”

      “Ms. Nelson, we need you,” Jack Hunter interrupted. “Up in Yosemite, we’ve broken the record for the most snow in the Sierra Nevada since the Donner Party tragedy. This is a national park. During the winter it’s open to anyone who can trek in and out. We just lost a ranger—one of our own—to the snow, it’s so bad. What do you think is going to happen to the kidnapper and his hostage? Someone has to find them. He won’t turn himself into the police—he faces kidnapping charges, since his wife has sole custody, and he still has time to serve on domestic violence charges. The odds of finding them without a dog drop significantly—and we can’t use