I stood statue still while the deer eyed me warily. Rusty watched from the bay window. Two steps closer. Click, buzz. The ears of the deer swiveled to the area of the barn. Two steps closer. Click, buzz. What was that? After a moment the deer all started grazing again so I crouched lower. Three steps closer. Click, buzz, click, buzz. Again the deer’s attention focused on the barn. Two more crouched steps. Click, buzz. I chose a doe who seemed more peaceful than the others. Step, step, freeze. Click, buzz. I knew that sound. That was Mark, then I too focused on the barn. I was determined to touch the doe. I hadn’t planned on that until Mark showed up but I wanted to show him how close he could get to wildlife if he really put his mind to it. I felt my foot come down on a stick and shifted it to land silently on grass. Inch by inch. When I was twenty feet away I waited until the deer were grazing and quietly sat down in the grass, giving them a few minutes to get used to me. Then I smoothly went from sitting to a very low crouch position and closed in. Click, buzz, click, buzz. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. It seemed to take forever. I’d only touched a deer once in my life but I’d come close several times. Most of the time I just enjoyed being with the herd. Eight feet. Crouch lower. Wait, wait. Six feet. Six feet was really close and I should have been content with that distance, but why stop? Click, buzz. Eyes on the barn. Step, five feet. Step, four feet. I reached out cautiously, cautiously, very gently. One more step. Click, buzz. Reach out, coarse hairs. Barely a touch, lightly, so lightly, like a leaf floating by. I touched the doe. Click, buzz. Click, bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz… The deer’s ears perked up, it focused on the barn and then leapt away into the junipers.
“You can come out now,” I called to Mark.
“Sorry, I ran out of film.”
“What are you doing back here so soon?”
“Studying stalking. I took your advice and checked out Mom and Dad’s house for deer. I haven’t seen them there so I came over to ask where I could find them. Guess I found out.”
Mark Mireau was a very well known nature photographer I’d rescued after he’d fallen over a cliff. His parents were Hazel and Wally, my next-door neighbors. Mark had been intrigued the first time he saw me stalk an animal. If something interests Mark, he photographs it and his efforts were now displayed in our home, a welcome addition to our bare living room walls.
“Come on in,” I said as I led him through the back door and into the den. Rusty came down the hall, having changed out of boxer pants at the sight of our unexpected company. He was now dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, looking very rugged and outdoorsy. Hazel had thought Rusty looked like a male model. Today he looked like a model for an outdoor adventure brochure. In reality, he was a detective on his day off. “Can I get you anything?” I asked.
“Got coffee?”
“I will in a minute.”
I got my good morning hug from Rusty. “Did you touch it?” he asked.
“Barely, I didn’t want to scare it.”
I put a filter in the coffeemaker and added coffee, then measured out the water and added it to the machine. I flipped the switch to start the pot brewing.
“I’ve had a few requests for the photos I took of you on the island. I keep telling people they aren’t for sale. I didn’t think you’d want your picture to be hanging in other people’s homes and offices. But other people see in the photos what I see in you. I made up a set to hang in my office and people notice them even before the nature pictures, maybe because the subject is so different. I end up telling the story behind them about once a week and people are attracted to them. Do you think we could come up with a set that you would allow me to sell in my studio? If so, I’d cut you in.”
“You’re kidding. Right?”
“I’m completely serious. I’ve had offers of over five hundred dollars for a set similar to the one in your living room. Think about it.”
“Why would anybody want a picture of me?”
“Because they see the same thing I did when I took them, a comfortable ease in unusual surroundings. It appeals to people. Nobody expects to see a girl so at home in the outdoors. I wish you could see some of the reactions.”
“What kind of pictures did you want to take?”
“Just the things I know you do best, tracking, stalking. If you are open to the idea, camping, rock climbing.”
“Hold it. I am not a rock climber. If it’s rock climbing pictures then Rusty is the one you want.”
“Everybody expects pictures of a guy like Rusty in a setting like that. The unexpected is what draws the eye. I’d take pictures of Rusty for the Marines. For nature lovers I take pictures of you.”
Rusty laughed quietly to himself, because he knew I’d been in the Marines and he hadn’t.
“It’s not having my picture for sale that bothers me. I’d just rather people not know who I am, unless I am needed for a search. Rusty will tell you I don’t like a lot of attention.”
“So, choose a name. Do you have a nickname?”
“Yeah, lots of them but I guess most people call me Trouble.”
“You? They call you Trouble?”
“Yeah, well, only people who have known me more than a week.”
“To really get Cassidy in her element, you need to go on a search,” Rusty commented.
“You mean a real call? Like search and rescue?” Mark asked, “Could I?”
“That would be up to Lou Strickland and the other members of the team,” I replied. “Are you looking for search and rescue photos or photos of me tracking? I don’t know what Landon and Victor would say about being photographed and I’m not sure what Lou would think of a city slicker tagging along on a call. We see some rough territory, occasionally we need to be picked up by helicopter.”
Marks eyes became larger and his grin broader as more options were opened up before him. Uh oh, I thought, he’s stuck on the idea.
“Do you expect opposition?”
“Perhaps at first. Lou isn’t too keen on rescuing the rescuers. We have enough trouble with the victims.”
“What about the others?”
“Landon admires your work and has an arrogant streak. He’d probably be honored to think he might end up in your pictures. Victor is more humble. He’d rather stay out of the pictures or be unrecognizable in them. He wants to do his job, and serve others quietly. Both are very capable EMTs. I’m proof of that. They follow me wherever I lead them without complaint and will take over as soon as they are needed. We make a good team. Depending on the availability there are two other guys who could end up going. You really don’t want to photograph Thez and Roscoe. Roscoe isn’t really shy but he disappears when the press arrives. He is knowledgeable and capable but a very private person. Thez is the opposite. Thez dramatizes everything. He isn’t very comfortable in the outdoors and overreacts to everything. A call with Thez is never boring, always entertaining, and a bit frustrating. You wouldn’t get any candid shots with him around. He’d know just the right angle, just the right lighting. I think he would drive you nuts.”
“So, how do I contact these people?”
“Lou and Landon shouldn’t be a problem. They could show up here most days, given some notice and no emergencies. Victor has a job and a family. He can get away for calls because his hours are flexible but he has a life outside the team.”
“Do you think we can make a go of it?” Mark asked.
Rusty and I exchanged glances, wondering if we even wanted this to happen. A call was inevitable and I guess I didn’t really mind being photographed tracking if Mark was capable of keeping up with the team. I was looking forward to seeing Landon’s reaction to meeting Mark. Landon considered Mark to be a bit of a celebrity.
As it turned out Lou was a bit hard to convince.
“No,” he said, “no civilians on searches.”
“What about me? You sent me on searches before I went through academy. And Mark isn’t going to do any rescuing. He’s just following along to take pictures of me. All he wants are some candid photos of a real life search.”
“We needed you. We don’t need a photographer.” Then turning to Mark he asked, “How far can you hike in a day?”
“You won’t have to worry about me. I’ve hiked in every environment you can think of and I’ll carry everything necessary to fend for myself. Just tell me how long to plan for.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Lou pointed out. “How far do you expect to lug that equipment in a day?”
“I’d gauge the weight of the pack by how far I expect to go. If we’re looking at five miles I can pack heavy, ten miles I’d have to pack light.”
“There’s no telling how far we will get in a day,” I told him. “It depends on the trail. If the tracks are easy to read it goes faster. No matter what, you will spend all day on the trail until we find our missing person. We start at first light. We eat lunch on the trail. We stop at dusk. I think the furthest we have hiked in a day was eleven miles. We did eleven miles in a day on the Brewski search.”
“You can drop everything at a moment’s notice? When we call we expect a response immediately.”
“You betcha.”
“No guarantees,” Lou said. “Maybe. If it’s a straightforward tracking call, maybe. No apprehensions, no scouting. I don’t schedule the calls either. They come in at all hours of the day and night. If you’re going with Cassidy, the call could come anywhere from five a.m. to five p.m. any day of the week. Pack for three days. Pack light. Pack all the water you need for all three days. Sometimes there’s water on a search, more often there’s not.”
“That’s a good sign,” I told Mark as Lou drove away. “By the way, tracking is not really an exciting thing to watch. It can get very tedious and slow if the tracks are hard to find. When the tracks are easy to see, it is still a slow walk. I have to be sure before continuing on and it’s also why we have such a good success rate. I have never lost a trail yet. A search might take an hour. It might take three days. I never know when starting out.”
The phone rang four times and there was loud rock music blaring in the background when Landon answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Landon, it’s Cass. A friend of mine is in town and would like to meet you.”
The music quickly faded until it became a tolerable racket.
“Is she cute?”
“It’s not a she. It’s a he.”
“So you’re not setting me up with a date.”
“Well, he does want to go out with you but not like that. It’s Mark Mireau. I thought you’d like to meet him and we have a question for you.”
“I’m on duty right now. I’ll get off at six. What’s for dinner?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” I wracked my brain thinking of what I had ingredients for. “Spaghetti? Roast beef? Chile Verde?”
“Sounds good, if I don’t get a call I’ll be there around six-thirty.”
“Okay, thanks, see you then.” I hung up the phone. “I can’t believe it, he got a dinner out of it! What about you? Landon will be here at six-thirty. Rusty will be here at seven. You’re welcome to eat with us too.”
“Sounds good. I’ll have to see if it’ll hurt Mom’s feelings too much if I bail out. I can only take so much casserole. Maybe it’ll be tuna. She knows I don’t care for tuna casserole. About once a week I take them out to eat just out of self-defense. Mom thinks I love steak but the fact is I just need something besides noodles.”
That settled it, roast beef was the easiest meal to prepare and the most unlike a casserole. I thawed out a roast. Mark went back to Hazel and Wally’s to visit for the afternoon and I planned a dinner for four.
Mark must have been anxious to go on a call because he arrived at six-twenty wanting to talk to Landon. He brought the pictures he’d taken earlier and the ones he’d taken of me when I’d rescued him on the island.
“I don’t know how you do it. You capture the moment, not the person. When I look at your pictures I don’t see myself. Instead I see the concentration and focus of the stalk. How are you able to achieve that?”
“It’s not me, Cassidy, you just radiate that to the camera. When people watch you stalk they’re not seeing some cute girl trying to touch a deer. They see what stalking really feels like. It makes them want to try it too. That’s why people ask for my images of you. When they see the pictures they think they feel the way you do when you are stalking.”
The doorbell rang. Landon was still in his work uniform: navy twill pants and a white uniform shirt with ambulance company patches on the sleeves. I always wondered why an ambulance company would have white uniform shirts but Landon’s was always stark white when I saw him. His navy blue jacket had the same patches on it and he draped it over a chair as he came through the door.
“You’re looking great,” he said. “You really had me worried after that last bout of trouble.”
“Yeah, it’s been a struggle,” I admitted. “I’m still not one hundred percent, but I’ve been exploring the hills, Christmas shopping, and going to the gym. Here, I want you to meet Mark.”
“You went Christmas shopping and still managed to stay out of trouble?”
“Very funny, Landon. This is Mark Mireau. Mark, this is Landon Wilson. Landon is the guy I get paired up with the most on searches.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Mark said.
“Likewise,” Landon replied.
“And Mark is a photographer in need of a subject,” I said, hoping to spark one of them into taking over the subject.
“A whole big wide world out there and you come here looking for something to photograph? Why?”
“Have you seen the pictures I took of Cassidy?”
“Yeah, they’re really good. When I first saw them I knew they were perfect for her house. It took me a minute to realize they were pictures of her.”
“I made a set for my office, a souvenir of my trip to the islands, and people have been trying to buy them from me ever since. So I’m here to take some more. I’d like our two sets to remain unique but I’d also like to tackle this from a more professional perspective and offer them for sale in my studio. Here, I’ll show you the pictures I took the other day.” He handed Landon the photos. “I’d like to take more out in the woods if possible. These were just taken in the backyard but I may use them anyway because…”
“You actually touched it?” Landon exclaimed.
“Barely, I only tried it because I knew Mark was watching. I wanted him to get interested in stalking so he could move in closer on his subjects.”
Mark laid all the pictures out in order, then chose four progressive shots of me closing in on the doe and finally touching it.
“I take a set like this, stylize them a little, then enlarge them so they’re visible from across a room, like the ones in the living room, and for some reason people are drawn to them.”
“What made you branch out into photographing people?” Landon asked.
“I’ve always taken pictures of anything interesting, mostly just for my own enjoyment. People have always interested me, and I have sold a few portraits here and there, but this is the first time people have approached me to ask for the story behind the pictures. I’ve been hearing about the emotion of the pictures rather than the person. When I take a picture of an animal people admire the detail, the beauty of nature. With these pictures of Cassidy it seems like I’ve touched on something quite different. A whole new level of photography.”
“So how do I fit into all this?” Landon asked dubiously.
“I wanted to take some photos of Cassidy tracking and Rusty suggested I go on a search.”
“You want to follow us on a call? What did Strict say?”
Since I knew how to read between the lines of Strict’s response I answered, “It didn’t sound as if he liked the idea, but he advised Mark about how to pack.”
“Then it’s a go?”
“Only for a straight forward tracking case. What do you think of it? Would you mind being photographed on a search?”
“Hell no, it sounds like fun. There’s this one second that you have to catch though. It’s like Cassidy morphs or something. One second she’s this cute kid and the next she… I don’t know, she just becomes something else. You have to see it.”
I jumped on that quickly, “Landon, you are exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not. All the guys watch for it. You do it when you track, when you stalk and when you’re scouting. It’s a little different each time but it’s amazing the transformation that takes place.”
“He’s exaggerating,” I told Mark.
“No he’s not,” Mark said. “It’s like unveiling something. You can see what it is even when it is covered up, but you really only receive the full impact and purpose of it once it’s been unveiled.”
“You guys are getting weird on me here. You’re getting all philosophical. Are you okay?”
When Rusty came home I set the table, took the roast out of the oven and made gravy.
“What’s up with Landon and Mark?”
“They were discussing photography and now they are trying to define exactly what happens when I morph from Skipper to Tracker Woman.”
He laughed, but his eyes told me he had seen it, too. He went to the living room, curious if they had figured it out yet.
As I entered the living room to ask what everyone wanted to drink I heard Mark say, “The Incredible Hulk was a good guy. He just looked like a bad guy.”
“Well, that’s sort of the way it is except she stays cute, but she turns from pert cute to dangerous cute.”
“That’s enough, guys.”
“Don’t pay any attention to her. Cassidy’s just never heard this conversation before, but I’ve heard it many times,” Landon said.
“It’s a mental shift, but there’s nothing physical about it,” I told them.
“We’ll see,” Landon said. “I bet it shows up on film if Mark is able to catch it.”
“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, hoping that food would end the conversation, but now Rusty had latched onto it.
“I think the place where it’s the most obvious is at the firing range, but the weapon might have something to do with the illusion. Have you ever seen Cass shoot?” Rusty asked Landon.
“Only once, and she was definitely dangerous at the time,” he replied.
“Okay, stop. This discussion is going to lead to the apprehension in the canyon. Any more than a minute on that topic and I’ll be reliving the shooting and will feel guilty for the next week, so let’s not go there.” I suddenly realized I had introduced the very subject I had intended to avoid. Rusty and Landon both looked at me in disbelief then silently dropped the subject.
“You actually shot a guy?” Mark asked in disbelief.
“It’s debatable whether it was my shot that killed him or not because five seconds later the grenade went off and he was blown to smithereens. It just stopped him from blowing up other people.”
“The grenade went off?” Mark asked in surprise. “So you’re a hero.”
“Mark, you should be aware that sometimes these calls don’t always turn out as we hope they will. Most of the time we track down a lost hiker, Landon patches them up, and then we send them to the hospital to be checked out. Sometimes things aren’t quite what they seem. Once I had to shoot a tiger before it attacked a guy. Once I had to shoot a suspect before he blew up my team. Then there was the time when I was shot because the search was really a trap. Lou won’t let you go unless he believes it’s a very simple matter of tracking down a missing person. But even then we can’t guarantee the outcome.”
“Who would shoot you?” Mark asked.
Rusty and Landon each gave a nervous laugh. Landon summed it up pretty well by saying, “Cassidy seems to be on the bad guys’ most wanted list.”