Page 12 of Capture the Moment
Scowling, the pigtailed woman made a sweeping motion, as if to say,Go elsewhere to talk! We’re doing serious stuff here.
Kate walked up the bank to the road. “It’s not really a good time to talk, Oliver,” she said, her voice hushed.
He passed right over that. “Has your bear made its appearance yet?”
“No. Not that I’ve heard.”
“Really? No one’s seen it yet?”
“No one has seenheryet.”
“So ... think you’ll be home by Memorial Day weekend? I thought we’d head to the beach.”
She just got here! She hadn’t even unpacked her suitcase. “Too soon to say.”
“I thought thatNat Geoeditor said she had a deadline for the picture. You said that was why you chose this time of year.”
“She did. And yes, that’s why I chose this week. But what can I do? The bear’s calling the shots.”Literally.
“Do the rangers think the bear could be dead?”
“There’s been some talk of that. Mostly, they talk about how cold a winter it’s been and how late spring has been in coming. Everyone hopes she’s just taking her time to emerge.”
“Katie-Kat, you can’t stay there indefinitely.”
She hated that nickname. “I know, I know.” She frowned. “Hopefully, she’ll come out by week’s end and I’ll get myNat Geoshot of her.”
“Kate, sweetheart, be realistic. Do youreallythink you’re that kind of a photographer?”
Silence. “What kind is that?” The kind that makes it intoNat Geo?
“You know what I meant. Even if you did get that perfect shot and even if it did get intoNat Geo... what then? You’re only as good as your last photograph. You’ll be spending your life chasing the end of the rainbow.”
Kate sighed. Sadly, there was some truth to what he said.
“So I’ve been giving your career some serious thought,” Oliversaid. “How about combining your interest in animals and picture taking with something more profitable? Baby pictures with puppies and kittens. People eat that stuff up. There’s good money to be made.”
“That’s not what I want to do with my photography. I want to capture the raw beauty of wildlife.” How many times had she told him that very thing?
“Raw beauty doesn’t pay the bills, Katie-Kat.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. It was always about the money. Kate sighed, frustration bubbling within her. “Look, I need to get back to work.” That lanky photographer was coming up the bank and heading right toward her. “I gotta go,” she told Oliver and hung up before he could object.
“Hey, Zoo Girl,” the lanky man said. “Here’s something else you can’t learn in a zoo. When you’re out in the field, you reduce disturbance. And you increase situational awareness.”
“What do you mean?”
“Put away that blasted phone.”
Oh.
Wade Schmidt leaned over his workbench, meticulously arranging his prized possession—his bow and arrow—in a sturdy case. It was a fine piece of craftsmanship; each curve and notch served a purpose to ensure a successful kill. He handled it with care, almost reverently, as if it were a delicate piece of art.
He never, ever traveled with his weapons; too risky, too much of a liability. Instead, he relied on his tried-and-true method: sending them ahead via express mail to a nameless PO box.
Feldmann had been instructed to set up the PO box specifically for this purpose. The anonymity provided an extra layer of security, ensuring his weapons stayed under the radar of law enforcement. Hidden in plain sight. It was a winning formula that had always served him well ... unlike another bowhunter. This guy had made the foolish mistake of trying to conceal a gun with his bow in carry-on luggage. Needless to say, he made the news.
Wade smirked as he sealed up the package and affixed the typed address label on top. He didn’t have much sympathy for that bowhunter. The guy had landed himself in a mess of his own creation. As for Wade, avoiding detection was everything. One close call, a hair’s breadth from disaster, haunted him. Ever since, his attention to detail became obsessively meticulous, each movement calculated, every step a precise act of survival. With practiced ease, he peeled off his rubber gloves.
