Page 4 of Capture the Moment
“Any sign of it?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Good,” Wade said, nodding. He glanced out the window, noting the overgrown grass, and made a mental note to speak to the gardener later. He prided himself on attention to detail, something he expected from everyone who worked for him. “I want a good hunt, Feldmann. Better than good.”
“I assure you, sir, I’m doing everything in my power to ensure that.”
“Timing is crucial. This needs to happen before it’s seen. Within the next two weeks.”
“Understood.”
“And you’re confident you’ve chosen the right person for the job?”
“Absolutely. As you said, a disgruntled insider makes the perfect turncoat.”
Wade leaned back, running a hand over his face. Feldmann’s reassurances were comforting, but he needed results. “Keep me updated on every development.”
“You can rely on me, Mr. Schmidt.”
“Can I?” Wade’s skepticism rose a notch. “So far, your efforts seem more focused on negotiations than actual scouting.”
“Well, it’s this bear, sir. It’s the prize everyone wants.”
Two
Grand Teton has it all.
—Matt and Karen Smith, travel writers
Thirteen-year-old Maisie Mitchell was jolted awake by odd scurrying sounds echoing in the small basement. As she blinked away sleep, she saw her mom hastily packing belongings into a worn-out duffel bag.
Maisie sat straight up, alarmed. “What’s going on?”
Her mom darted around the basement, picking clothes up off the floor, with an unusual pep in her step. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, sleepyhead. We’re going on a road trip.”
“Why?” Maisie said, her voice flat. She knew this drill. “Why can’t we stay with your friend? This basement is way nicer than the last place.” That one was infested with roaches. When Maisie would flip the light switch on, she’d see them scurry along the walls.Bleh.Just thinking of those creepy bugs grossed her out.
Her mom spun around. “We’re going on a trip to see your grandfather.”
“Pops?” Maisie brightened at the mention of her grandfather. To everyone else, he was known as Ranger Tim Rivers. ToMaisie, he was Pops. Sheadoredhim. Pops looked like a cowboy, all weathered and sturdy. He wasn’t her biological grandfather; he had married her mom’s mom, whom Maisie had never met but heard countless stories about. Grandma had died when her mom was in college. Pops said that Mom’s world broke apart and had never quite mended back together since then.
Maisieadoredtime with Pops, but visits were usually planned far in advance during summer breaks or holidays. “Why now?”
“Sometimes, honey, the stars align just right. This is one of those times.” Her mom continued packing, but her voice held an excitement Maisie hadn’t heard in ages.
Well, as long as Pops was involved, she wasn’t going to slow this road trip down. She jumped out of bed and grabbed her jeans to change into from her pajamas.
Mom’s art friend, an older woman named Rebecca Woodbine, poked her head over the stair railing, halfway down the basement steps. “I’m packing some sandwiches for you. Peanut butter and raspberry jam okay?”
Maisie nodded. “My favorite.” Rebecca had been really nice to them. She’d met Mom at an art class Mom taught. When she found out Mom was getting kicked out of her apartmentandthat she had a daughter, she offered to let them stay for free in her basement. As long as they needed, she had said.
“I’ll start loading the car. Can you strip the bed sheets for Rebecca? She wants to add them to a load in the washing machine.” Mom picked up a laundry basket full of shoes and started up the stairs.
Wait a sec!That laundry basket full of shoes was a signal. Maisie turned in a circle.Yep.Mom was packing everything.
Something wasn’t adding up. “Mom! Rebecca said we could stay as long as we needed. Why can’t we come back here after visiting Pops?”
Her mom paused on the steps, her eyes lingering on theshoes in the laundry basket. “Sweetheart, it’s ... complicated. Grown-up stuff, you know?”
