Page 25 of Double Exposure

Carter gives me this look, like he knows my father’s thinking: Too many risk factors.

“What?” I say.

“Nothing, nothing,” he answers, looking only at the dwindling fire. “You’re a photographer too?”

“Yes,” I say, though I don’t want to talk about me or my stunted professional trajectory.

“Here’s the thing,” says Carter. “It’s nearly six. I expect Ross or my brother will be here within thirty minutes. We need to get you to a hospital and then—"

I shake my head. I wish I was dressed. I am acutely aware that he is and I am not, and being half dressed isn’t a good place to argue from.

“I'm not leaving my father.”

Carter sits back slightly and gives me a long, appraising look. Then his eyes soften and he smiles. “Well, I'm not leaving you. So, one way or another, you're stuck with me.”

I don't know what to say. “Listen, you don't need to do this. I think he's, you know, my father, is a rebel. He's a renegade. That's why he's famous. He takes risks nobody else takes and it's probably very dangerous.”

“I’m sure it is,” says Carter, a hand on my leg, “but you can’t be in the outback in a radio-sketchy area with no backup plan—that’s not safe either. I wouldn't put my worst enemy in that kind of situation.”

Rising again, he dumps the rest of the can of tomatoes into the mug and hands it back to me. I offer it back to him, but he shakes his head.

“Here’s a plan. We give it six hours of air time. We do recon from the Bell, the helicopter, and then if we have nothing, Ross takes you in to get checked out and Ryan, Jace, Brock and I will search with snowmobiles.”

I don’t know what to say. It’s more than I could have hoped for. But I do have a question. “And if—”

He holds up a finger. “If we don’t locate him by four this afternoon, we file formal paperwork and get other units involved, maybe McIntyre’s, and mobilize a larger search party. Does that work?”

I almost can’t catch my breath. For the first time since Dad went missing, I feel hope.