by Larion Wills
MuseItUp Publishing
eBook ISBN: 978-1-927361-75-7
Safe from one trap, caught in another, Callie and Ward must work together to survive the final.
Chapter One
Summer, 1973
“If I ever get my hands on him, I’ll wring his neck!”
The man talking was tall at six feet, four inches, eyes black with anger and nearly black hair, so furious he resembled Satan himself. He had width to stretch the green of his Park Ranger uniform tight across his chest. Strength with anger made the smaller man he spoke to cringe from the force of his words.
Jeff Blancher’s pulling back, almost cowering, made Ward Overland even angrier. He had no intentions of attacking a co-worker, and Blancher should know he was not the one Ward was angry with. He pointed his finger at Blancher, ready to tell him how men like him who never stood up for what they believed in were the reason the Olson’s of the world got away with breaking the law. The ringing of the phone saved Blancher a lecture.
Ward snatched the offending instrument up and answered in a growl. “Station three. Overland here.”
“Ward Overland?”
“Yes. What do you want?”
There was a slight pause, understandable considering the bluntness of the question. “This is Brad Tillison from Evans Publishing. I have your book in front of me.”
Ward arched one eyebrow, cast a look of total irritation at Blancher, and waved him out of his office. Having not talked about the book he’d written if he was going to be humiliated, he wanted privacy. “Do you usually call to tell people that?” he asked as the door closed.
“No,” Tillison answered with an easy laugh, “but I’m impressed with what you’ve done.”
“Then buy it,” Ward said.
“There is a problem. The text is very good. Unfortunately, I can’t use the photos.”
“It isn’t any good without them.”
“Exactly, which is why I called. They need to be retaken by a professional.”
“And with a minimal fee, you can provide one?”
Some of the light heartedness left Tillison’s voice. “It wouldn’t be minimal, and all I can do is suggest a few photographers.”
“And why would their pictures be better than mine?”
“Because of a better camera. The shots you took, though excellent in content, are not of a high enough quality for reproduction.”
“Wait a minute. Are you on the level?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Level, mister. You aren’t the only one I submitted to. I’ve heard we like it, but it needed work for a nominal editing fee.”
“Oh,” Tillison said with a chuckle. “I wondered why you were so hostile. I’m glad you didn’t fall for one of those come-ons. They’d have taken your money and given you little, if anything.”
“I didn’t because I couldn’t afford it, any more than I can some fancy photographer,” Ward told him bluntly.
“Ahhh,” Tillison drawled. “I see the problem.”
“Yeah, I’ll start saving,” Ward said bitterly. “Just pack it up and send it back. We can’t do business together.”
“We may be able to. We may be able to find a photographer willing to work on speculation, for a percentage of your advance and royalties.”
“Would they?”
“I know one who might, and in Oregon, not too far from you there in Washington. If it’s agreeable with you, I’ll call Cal, and see what we can work out.”
Ward was not at all sure the man wasn’t trying to take him to the cleaners. He couldn’t see any tricks, though, not yet. “Sure. Go ahead. I can always say no later.”
* * * *
An hour later Ward was as puzzled and wary when Tillison called back.
“Cal agreed. Cal Bennett, one of the best wildlife photographers in the business. Name a time and place when it would be convenient for you to be a guide.”
“What did Cal agree to?”
Tillison laughed softly. “I guess you would be interested in the details. I made you a pretty good deal. A thousand of the advance, ten percent of the royalties, and you pay the expenses.”
“What kind of expenses?”
“Transportation there and back from Oregon, film, developing, and meals while Cal’s there. I’ll deduct it from the advance and release the money as soon as the photos are here.”
Ward could visualize the advance disappearing before he ever saw it. He could also see, he thought, the trick. “And anything over the advance, I’m stuck for?”
“A thousand, and the expenses shouldn’t be more than a couple hundred more, leaving a little under four thousand.”
“What?”
Tillison misunderstood Ward’s exclamation of surprise. “It’s a first book. When you become more established and publishing isn’t such a gamble, the advance will be more. With a first book, the sales may not even cover the expenses. It’s a gamble for me, and though I’m willing to make it, I can’t justify a larger advance.”
“If it’s such a big gamble, why would you put out so much?”
“I have faith in my judgment. Is it a deal or not?”
“It is until I can see a catch in it somewhere. I’ve got three days off two weeks from now. Can your friend make it up then?”
Tillison chuckled again. “Yes, and to make you feel easier, I’ll see to getting a written contract to you before starting.”
“You sound like you’ve got faith in Bennett, too.”
“I do. Now, when and where?”
“When’s easy, the fifth. Where is forty miles into nowhere and turn left to the top of the world.”
“Sounds isolated.”
“It is. Is that going to bother Bennett?”
“Not in the slightest. Where does nowhere begin?”
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the first chapter doesn't tell much of the story, but it should sure hit home for some writers. lol
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