Page 24 of Double Exposure

“My brothers and I own a company and we do search and rescue up here. We also do some trail maintenance. Part of the trail maintenance,” he swings his legs down and rests his elbows on his knees, “is performing controlled avalanches.” He jabs his thumbs into his eyes, rubs them for a minute and then lifts his head to meet my gaze. “I get it now—you were looking for your dad. But we . . . I nearly killed you.”

I drop my head to my chest. I'm so embarrassed. “I am so sorry. I know. I realize I shouldn't have been there, but I—”

“No buts.” Carter’s sigh is long. “That's why park areas are closed off. This is avalanche season. You can't escape it—they are going to happen. That's why we set them off to make sure that no one gets hurt and you were right in the path.”

“Well, I got to shelter.” This, I realize, is a very poor defense.

“I need to know why you—no. I know why you were out there. But your father? If we’re going to find him, then I need to know what he was doing, hiking around in restricted areas.”

My heart starts to beat hard against my ribs. “I can't tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because I can't. I don’t know. I was tracking him myself.”

Carter wipes his eyes. “I thought you were together and then got separated.”

“No. He ghosted me. I thought we were photographing and tracking a wolf pack. Then two days ago I wake up and he’s gone.”

“We’re talking about a restricted area.”

If my theory about my dad is right, Carter isn’t going to like it, so I try to divert the conversation. “Isn’t ‘restricted’ a little harsh?”

Carter’s head snaps up. “If you had died, I would be guilt ridden the rest of my life. There is a reason that quadrant was off limits.”

Suddenly the kettle on the stove begins to whistle and he jumps up and offers me more hot water before setting the kettle back on the hearth.

I watch as he rolls his sleeves midway up his forearms. They are thick, muscular, and his hands are beautiful.

“Those tomatoes should be ready,” he says.

“Don’t be mad—”

“I’m not mad. Look. I’m not mad, okay? But if we’re going to find him, I have to know what he was looking for. Jade. You must have some idea what your dad was doing out here.” Carter stands, crosses to the kitchen and rinses a mug out with boiling water. Then he fills it with half a can of warmed tomatoes.

He hands me a spoon with the mug.

I take it and then without looking at him I say, “Bears.”

“What?”

“I think he’s after bear. He wants to find a group hibernation den where they all go. He wants to see if they are hibernating in groups because the theory is that because their numbers have dwindled, they've become more solitary.” I poke at the tomatoes. My stomach gurgles even though I haven’t eaten a stewed tomato in forever.

“Why didn’t he take you? Why would he go alone?”

“For the same reason he’s sabotaging my career,” I say and then realize this is not helpful. “He’s scared. For me. He doesn’t want me in danger.”

“Did you come out here with maps?”

I nod, but as I start for my pack, he moves quickly to retrieve it for me and lays it on the sofa. I paw through the outside zip pocket and hand him the one I took from the hotel. “I called my mom too,” I explain. “She’s in Germany, singing. He hasn’t contacted her either. He's been missing for three days.”

“Three days,” Carter repeats.

I start to feel edgy. “I think he thought he could make it up and back by noon and then we’d just go out looking for the wolf pack. He’s working with a biologist who tracks wolves with radio collars.”

“And when you woke up, he was gone.”

“Yep. He wanted to do this by himself. So, he ditched me.”