Cat. R C Hilty
area. I think it was the one all the hunters have been talking about, the one that disappears opening day. Cat raised her shotgun and looked through her scope. I sure didn’t want to see him killed that way. Before I could do anything, she put her gun down.”
“Then what happened?”
“The strangest thing I have ever seen. The buck nodded at her as though he knew she was there, then he walked away. Two minutes hadn’t gone by when a yearling came in to view. She raised her gun and shot, the deer ran about twenty yards and fell over.”
“You think that big buck lead that deer to her?”
“Had me wondering. I watched her clean that deer. It was the neatest job I had ever seen. She cut the meat off the bone, wrapped it in sheets, put in plastic bags, then packed it in her backpack.”
“You didn’t approach her?”
“No, I just watched. In the distance I saw some coyotes just sitting, waiting, and watching. Cat put her backpack on, went back, and picked up her gun. She walked across the valley then just disappeared.”
“Went up that hidden trail?”
“I was told that Cat brought the SWAT team in that way. No wonder I never saw her leave. Anyway, after she left, the coyotes went and cleaned up what was left. It was like they knew. It was as though the wild had accepted her as one of their own. I observed this a couple of more times. The same thing happened.”
“Why didn’t you arrest her?”
“I don’t know. I mean, she was helping people.”
“So having a problem with what is legal and what is right?”
“It was starting to bother me. After all, she was breaking the law. I decided to bring her in. That’s when I ran into that meth lab. That was my fault. Knowing that Cat wouldn’t give me any trouble, I had let my guard down. Walked right into trouble, you know the rest.”
“I’m glad to see you’re getting better. Hey, I’ll see you later. I need to stop by the office before I go home, see you tomorrow.”
“All right, I ain’t gonna be going anywhere.”
Judge Bean opened a letter from the State that was left on his desk. It was the answer to his request for a DNR officer to fill in while Conrad was recuperating. He read the letter over. Just as I figured, someone that hasn’t been with the DNR very long. I’ll call around tomorrow and see what kind of guy he is.
*****
Mike installed new target holders and rebuilt the benches on his rifle range. It had been a long time since it looked this good.
Mike took his .308 Winchester rifle out of his safe and picked up a target and a box of cartridges. He hung a target at the hundred-yard mark. After squeezing off three shots, he walked down and checked his target. He took a dime and put it up to the holes. It didn’t quite cover all three. “Not too shabby for an old man.”
Mike put his rifle away and started to look over some old catalogs. There was a lot of catching up to do since he had been out of the game for a few years. He found some old papers he brought home from Camp Perry.
“I wonder if Jim is still shooting.” Jim was twenty years younger than Mike. Mike had taught him a lot when they were shooting together. “I’ll just give him a call, hope the number’s the same.” Mike looked up Jim’s number and dialed.
“Hello.”
“Hi. Jim?”
“Yes.”
“This is Mike.”
“Mike? The old guy that used to show up at Camp Perry, come hell or high water?”
“Yeah, that Mike.”
“How the hell are ya?”
“Not bad, you still compete at Camp Perry?”
“Every year. Why, ya thinking about getting back in the game?”
“No. The reason I called was, I was wondering if you could send me some info on what’s new in long-range shooting. There’s a young girl that’s interested, and I’m teaching her.”
“Man! You gonna teach a young girl how to shoot? What happened to the ‘I just want to be left alone’?”
“It’s a long story. She found out that I was a sniper. She just kept coming over to my place and wouldn’t let me alone, so I figured I might as well teach her.”
“Like a stray dog?”
“Exactly.”
“Sure, I can send you some info. I have plenty. I also have some CDs, you have a computer?”
“No, but I’m sure her brother does.”
“Okay, I’ll box up what I have here and send it your way. Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’m thinking about taking her to Camp Perry next summer.”
“That’d be great! I’ll send you the dates next spring.”
“Okay, talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
The next day Mike went out to his workshop to build Cat a practice rifle, one that would be as realistic as possible—weight, balance, length of pull, etc. He had an action and a stock. The local machine shop turned down a piece of steel with a threaded end he could use for a barrel. Cat could use this to practice her trigger squeeze and breathing. Everything he had was for a right-handed shooter. Her being a southpaw would take a bit of getting used to. The basics were the same. He would let her use his .308 Winchester to start off with. He would build her a rifle later. Left-handed equipment had gotten more available in the last few years.
The people in town were starting to notice the difference Cat was making in Mike’s life. He was coming into town more often, not as grumpy. One said that they thought they heard him laugh. Another said they saw him smile.
*****
Cat was walking toward the diner when Judge Bean came up.
“If you have a minute, I’d like to talk to you. Can you stop by the office?”
“Sure, I’ll come over right now. I can stop and see Mom after.”
Cat followed Judge Bean over to the courthouse. After they were inside, Judge Bean pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”
Cat sat down. “Pretty nice day.”
“Relax. As far as I know, you ain’t in trouble.”
“Good.”
“I wanted to let you know that the state is sending a DNR officer to fill in while Conrad is laid up. Conrad will be getting out of the hospital soon, but it will be awhile before he’ll be able to work full time.”
“Them slime balls did put the hurt on him.”
“Yes, they did. I got the letter from the state with the information on the new officer. He has been with the DNR for a little over a year. I called around. He is as I suspected—gung ho, goes by the book, and measures his success by how many arrests he makes. He does not take into account the human factor.”
“I take it he won’t be as nice to me as you guys have?”
“Or to the rest of the residents in the county. He’s young, hasn’t figured out that you can get more flies with honey than vinegar.”
“I had better do a good job covering my tracks.”
Judge Bean shook his head. “It’d be better you not make any tracks. Like I said, he measures his success by how many arrests and convictions he gets. It would put me in an awkward position. If I let you off with little punishment, he could send in a complaint to the state.”
“Okay, I’ll