"So, I learn another aspect of the job," he said.
"And what else did you learn today?" she asked before she remembered she didn't really care what he learned, if anything.
"I learned there're no shades of gray when it comes to safety laws and binoculars are a C.O.'s best friend."
Surprised he even extracted that much from her morning duties, she gave him a cursory glance. His grin stretched.
"Surveilling the boaters on the lake before we—"
"We?" she cast over her shoulder, intent on reminding him that she hadn't allowed him to help her in any aspect of her job.
"Correction," he said, giving her a conceding nod. "Surveilling the boaters on the lake before you even launched the boat saved a lot of unnecessary stops once we were on the water."
"That's why binoculars are a good tool of the job," she said.
"That's what I was saying."
She huffed and trudged off along the trail, sweet trickling down her flanks. Ordinarily, she'd have taken the afternoon off after a morning of marine surveillance then gone back out in the evening or night. July afternoons were generally too hot for field work unless there was something specific to deal with. But she was in no mood to make anything easy for Joe Hollywood. So, she'd taken him hiking through a dense, mosquito filled woods. The only problem was they were quickly sweating off their insect repellent. Good thing they carried a fresh supply in their backpacks. Oh yeah, she'd made him don a backpack under the guise of you wanted the full experience.
"So," he said way too close behind her. "Just what are we out here looking for?"
Your breaking point. "Any sign of poaching."
"And what would that look like?"
"Animal carcasses. Make-shift hunting blinds. Worn patches where someone might have been sticking up." Mostly the sort of poaching evidence left over from the winter that we look for in spring rather than hot mid-summer. Not that she was about to inform of that fact.
"Circling crows overhead mean there's a carcass on the ground, right?"
In her peripheral vision she caught the upward sweep of his arm and glanced up. Just her luck, Jo Hollywood was some sort of Boy Scout. She exhaled heavily.
"Looks like they're over the highway. Probably just road kill."
"So, is this all you do, wander around the woods looking for signs of something illegal?" he asked, all but tripping on her heels.
"Yup," she said without so much as a backward glance. "Nice and mundane."
"Is that another reference to how my portrayal of field work in my last movie missed the mark?"
"I may not have been on this job very long, but I'm the daughter of a C.O. and not once in his thirty year career did he come home sooty and singed from an explosion."
"That's because he never played a C.O. in an action movie."
She stopped short and wheeled around at him. "None of that over-the-top crap happens in real life."
He shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned down at her. "Reality doesn't make for interesting action films. Besides, I portray a Game Warden along the Texas/Mexican border. Things get a little more heated when the bad guys carry Oozies rather than fishing poles."
"So your Game Warden character stumbles across drug mules for a drug cartel and winds up in an all-out war. Does that really happen even in Texas?"
He shrugged, his grin oozing charm. "Wouldn't know. I didn't write the script."
"Yet you come all the way to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to research the next installment of your gung-ho game warden movies?"
"Figured, if they were going to create a series around my character, I had an obligation to learn a little more about him and what he'd encounter in movie number two."
"And you think the Texas Department of Natural Resources would send one of their Game Wardens to the U.P.?"
"Actually," he said. "My character's supposed to be taking a vacation after all the mayhem he encountered in the first movie."
"And they thought nice, boring Upper Michigan was just the place for him to recuperate from…how many shots did you duck and explosions did you narrowly miss?"
His grin stretched and he hovered closer. "You really hate all that action crap, don't you?"
"Tell me they aren't going to blow up my woods for the sake of a movie."
His grin turned into a grimace. "Wouldn't be much of an action film if there weren't some fireworks. Besides, where the Hawk goes trouble follows."
She groaned at reference to one of the tag lines hyping his movie character, turned, and trudged off, calling back to him, "Just stay on the trail and watch your step. I'm responsible for your safety."
"Yes, ma'aaaam."
The humorous note in his voice turned into a wail and Kelly turned to see her charge somersaulting down the slope the ridge bordered.
About the Author
An obsessive writer who'd rather write than breathe, Barbara Raffin wrote her first novel at age twelve in retaliation to the lack of female leads in the adventure stories she loved reading. But it was a love of playing with words, exploring the human psyche, and telling stories that kept her writing.
This award-winning author lives on the Michigan-Wisconsin border with her Keeshond dogs Katie and Slippers and her avid outdoorsman husband who has always supported her love affair with reading and writing. Learn more about Barbara Raffin and her books, or contact her through her web site at www.BarbaraRaffin.com
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LINK TO MY WEB SITE: http://barbararaffin.com/
LINK TO MY BLOG: http://barbararaffin.com/barbsblog/
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Finding Home (St. John Sibling Series Book 2) Page 21