Take Only Pictures (23 page)

“And when does it leave?” Gloria insisted.

Kristine sat and bit into her sandwich, instantly regretting it because her suddenly dry mouth made it hard to chew.

Gloria sat next to her. “Tomorrow morning? That’s why you were doing laundry before?” Kristine nodded.

“Well that explains a lot. I wish you’d told me.”

“Kind of hard to get a word in edgewise.”

Gloria shot her a penetrating look. “You still could have shared that with me.”

“I know.” Kristine’s mind spun. She considered telling Gloria it just wasn’t her instinct to reach out when she got scared. Instinct told her to protect herself, and she’d felt particularly vulnerable. She knew, though, that Gloria would have argued that was all the more reason to tell her, to let her help or at least offer support. Kristine blew out a breath, feeling lost. “I don’t have a lot of practice telling people stuff like that.”

Gloria traced the back of Kristine’s hand. “Maybe that’s something we could work on.”

Kristine smiled and tipped her hand over to hold Gloria’s. “That’s fair. As long as we can work on other stuff, too.” She arched an eyebrow.

“Food. Quit trying to distract me.” Gloria’s expression had finally softened. She spooned up some soup. “So where will you be for this photography trip?”

“Starts out at Rosalie. We’ll base camp there for a few days and then head across to Thousand.” Having just cleared the air, Kristine was surprised when Gloria’s spoon reversed direction and plopped back in the bowl. “What?”

“Can you start out at Thousand and go somewhere else?”

“What’s wrong with Rosalie?”

“I have a really bad feeling about that bear up there. After you left, I talked about it with Rick. He’s had some experience with the bear in past seasons, but this season his behavior has changed, dramatically in the past few days. He recalled a hiker talking about a weasel acting weird. He’s going to see if he can track down which report it’s in for me.”

“Why do you care about a weasel acting funny?”

“What we’re looking at doesn’t sound like a food-conditioned bear. It sounds like a rabid bear. And if that’s the case, I’d have to prove myself wrong before another big party enters his territory.”

“Bears get rabies?” Kristine asked, not wanting to argue but also shocked. When she’d been in the valley last, no one was even talking about food-conditioned bears, much less sick ones.

“Not very often, in fact it’s quite rare, but I’d be negligent if I didn’t issue a warning and follow through on my analysis.”

Kristine wondered if she was being more cautious than she needed to be because of the Fish Creek bear that had been attracted to the campsite by the dead horse.

“You think I’m crazy,” Gloria said, breaking the extended silence.

“I think it wouldn’t hurt to talk to Leo tomorrow morning.” She held Gloria’s eyes. “I doubt he’ll move the trip on such short notice, but at least you’ll have someone there who’s backing you up.”

“I like it better when you’re on my side.”

“Sorry that was in question before,” Kristine said, and she meant it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

A few of the Lodge employees acknowledged Gloria when she stepped into the employee dining room, but she didn’t see Leo. She’d headed over first thing to see if she could convince him to redirect his trip.

Nard stood with his plate and coffee cup and glanced out the window. “Teeny with you?”

“She let me borrow her truck. I’m looking for Leo.”

Nard swigged the last of his coffee and appraised her, his lips pursed under his scraggly mustache. Gloria met his gaze and did not blush or offer any explanation. He gave up the glaring contest first, sucking some of his breakfast from in between his teeth.

“Dad’s up at the corrals. Dude animals are out of water.”

Gloria thanked him and strode up to the corrals, locating Leo easily with his grunts and mumblings. He wore his typical plaid shirt, jeans and suspenders, though the suspenders had lost the fight to keep his jeans up over his rear. Gloria cleared her throat.

Leo rocked back onto his heels next to the trench he’d dug, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of a grimy hand. “Miss Fisher. Does Sacramento back up your assessment that I’m causing in the backcountry?”

“I’ve only had the chance to check in with my boss in Ontario who was going to contact the Director in Sacramento. I haven’t had a chance to hear what he said yet about the Fish Creek problem, sir. I’ve been up at Rosalie Lake. I’m sure you heard about the bear up there?” She hoped her tone conveyed that the number of incidents involving bear and human contact alone suggested that he should listen to her.

“Oh, yeah. Heard all about the mess it made before my guys got in there to pack them out.”

“Two encounters with two different bears in less than a week warrant a re-evaluation of your policy to pack whatever a client wants into the backcountry.”

“They know they’re headed into the wilderness. What they choose to bring is their business. Far as I know, backpackers have that same right.”

But backpackers actually have to carry what they take in, which gives them the common sense that many of the Lodge clients lacked, she thought. That lack of common sense raised her ire when she was in Fish Creek. It was certainly magnified by the Rosalie trip he’d allowed. However, that wasn’t why she was standing in front of him now. “Unfortunately, what a group takes into the backcountry isn’t my only concern anymore. I didn’t have a lot of time up at Rosalie, but I have talked to the ranger in that area, and we are both worried about that animal. We cannot ignore his unnatural behavior at the campsite.”

“Isn’t this where you get your rubber bullets out? Give him a good spanking?”

“That might work if the bear were merely habituated or food-conditioned. In those cases, the precautionary measures I discussed at the beginning of the season might be effective. We fear, though, that this bear is no longer sane.”

“You’re suggesting the bear is crazy?” He did not bother to stop his work as she talked.

“Sir, food conditioning happens with exposure and opportunity. Nothing in the ranger’s reports indicates that the bear has been taking advantage of humans for food this season.”

“You see how much crap that group hauled in, and how bad they were at securing it? My bet is that’s what attracted the bear.”

“Yes, but if that were the case, the campers should have been able to scare him off easily. I’d like some time to study the animal before you put more parties in the area. The ranger and I suspect that the animal may be rabid,” she said frankly.

Leo finally paused and tipped his battered straw hat back on his head. “Never heard of no rabid bear. I’ve worked down here just about my whole life.”

“It’s not common for an animal that large to contract rabies, but it’s not undocumented.”

“How many?”

“None documented in California, but nearly a dozen in North America.”

“None in California,” he repeated, turning back to his tools.

“You already have the incident with another bear down at Fish Creek. The horse carcass is likely to be pretty attractive to bears for some time. Juanita assured me that she would be warning campers to avoid that area for weeks, and I would hope that your staff isn’t dropping any other campers there. I’m asking that you do the same with the bear at Rosalie. At best, he’s food-conditioned which already presents a risk to your guests. At worst, he’s sick and dangerous. The Rosalie bear disturbs me much more than the scavenger down at Fish Creek.”

“Then feel free to keep an eye on it. But that’s your deal. Mine is keeping this place going, and I trust my staff to keep food away from all the animals they encounter.” He loosened a screw and pulled the line apart. Water sputtered from the pipe above. “Here’s our problem. Damn pumice gums up the works.” He fiddled with the screwdriver and blew through the lower part of the tube a few times. When he hooked it back up again, water sputtered into the bathtub.

Gloria wasn’t to be dismissed so easily. “Sir, there are three stages of rabies. Prodromal comes with behavioral changes and lasts anywhere from one to three days. What happened out at Rosalie three days ago qualifies as behavioral changes. I’d guess he’s moving to the next stage, the excited, or since we’re talking a large animal, the furious stage. You’re sending a trip back into the area at the very time this animal is most likely to have increased activity, and more importantly, no fear of its natural predators. It’s already demonstrated some of that. The next encounter that animal has with a person could turn deadly.”

“You said three stages.”

“The last is paralytic. That’s when you’ll see the frothing associated with a rabid animal.”

“And the timeline?”

“Sometimes a week for the second stage. Once they hit the third, they usually die fairly quickly, within a matter of hours.”

“You’re asking me to keep trips out of there for a week?”

Gloria felt a glimmer of hope. Leo had stopped working and had been listening to what she’d said. She wanted to say at least a week, but she didn’t want to push her luck. “A week, yes.”

Leo set down the tools and rose to his feet awkwardly. He kicked pumice back over his lines to bury them and wiped his hands on a bandana. “I’ve got a lot of trips going out. Don’t know where else I’d send that photography trip. If you’re worried, you’re free to keep an eye out.”

“There’s no way for me to police his entire territory. My last trip out, I wasn’t able to locate a den.”

Leo shrugged. “Maybe Scott has some manpower. I’ll make sure Nard is aware of your concern.”

He limped back to the tool shed, dismissing Gloria and raising her ire. She already knew Scott had no other rangers to send up to the Shadow area. Nothing to lose, she flipped open her phone. Grateful she had signal, she called the Ontario office hoping to catch someone working early. She met less resistance than Leo had given her, but the same conclusion. There wasn’t enough evidence to force Leo to change his plans, or mobilize a bear hunt. She got the bureaucratic response of their being happy with her reports and trusting that she could handle the situation. Snapping the phone shut and grumbling about the lack of help, she headed back to the Aspens.

Driving back, she remembered Kristine’s assessment that the fiasco at Fish Creek had stemmed from the way Leo prioritized money above reason. Leo made decisions in his office without thinking about how they would play out in the backcountry. She felt that same kind of disconnect herself, unable to understand why those in control refused to listen to the people in the field. She was the one putting herself in danger. She was the one immediately assessing the situation, yet from their office everything looked fine. They were impressed with the data she had gathered and it would be “very helpful” when considering the effect humans had on bear activity, blah blah blah. But when presented with something outside of routine information, when asked to take action or change policy, well, sorry. Keep an eye on things, and we’ll get back to you.

Kristine had argued that all decisions tied back to money and resources, and she knew how thinly stretched state resources were and just how low they registered on priority for funds. What would it take for her bosses to register the changing dynamics of the backcountry and do something about it? A bear mauling? She grimaced. One injured rider hadn’t changed Leo’s policy on riding double, something that clearly upset Kristine. Would one person injured by a bear even register in Sacramento?

She needed people to hear and understand what was happening. The research she was doing needed to be put to use, not simply stamped and filed. It was easier to change the behavior of those who stayed in the campgrounds with hosts who could monitor how they stowed their food. She’d discovered just how hard it was to manage what people took into the backcountry and how they kept it from the wildlife, especially in the case of the guests the outfit simply dropped off without guides.

If she were in charge… She pulled up at the outpost. Now there was an idea. If she were in charge, she’d remember to listen closely to the people in the field, not just politicians and money.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kristine sat with her back pressed against a Jeffrey pine enjoying her lunch with Shadow Lake a picture in front of her. The forested area that surrounded the lake provided a quiet like nowhere else in the backcountry. Across the lake, the jagged mountain range of the Minarets juxtaposed the deep blue calm of the water’s surface. Her guests were scattered around the lake, their assignment to “capture the tranquility.” Kristine would introduce various techniques later. Though she had spent the last three nights preparing lessons for them on nature photography, what they brought back to her after this first stop would give her a good idea of their skills base.

One of the pale Midwestern brothers approached her hesitantly.

“What’s up, Gary?” she asked the heavier-set of the two.

“I didn’t want to bother you on your break.”

“It’s no bother. Did you run into trouble?” She waved him over and invited him to sit.

“I did, actually,” he said, lowering himself down. “Oh. This feels so good I may never get up again.”

Kristine laughed. “Takes a while to get used to being on horseback. About the time you get stretched out, we’ll be home.”

“You’re not afraid to tell the truth.” Gary smiled.

Kristine paused for a moment thinking of the many truths she had kept to herself. She thought of the rock she’d thrown in Rosalie Lake at the beginning of the summer, how it had broken the surface of the water. She needed to reveal these truths, and they would cause their own ripples. More like waves in this case… She brought herself back to the moment, jutting her chin toward Gary’s camera. “What’ve you got?”

“I’m trying to get the creek up here feeding into the lake. I want the water to blur out, so I’m using a slow shutter speed, but instead of the water having that…that…”

“Feeling of motion?”

“Yes, exactly. Instead of that, the whole frame is blurry.”