Published February 17, 2015
Wexler studied the terrain through the cracks between the boulders behind which he sat, propped against a flat slab of granite. His tan polo shirt was plastered with sweat; a stray oak leaf stuck in his short gray hair.
The late afternoon sun dappled the scene in a deceptively peaceful pattern. Somewhere out there was the shooter who had barely missed a few short minutes ago. Wexler saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Undergrowth disturbed only by the slight movement of the wind, trees likewise gently and naturally moving. A sparrow landed in a bush 50 feet away and noisily burst into conversation.
Wexler carefully levered himself up and through a slightly larger gap between the rock and moved quickly another 30 feet behind a clump of chokecherries. Just that short burst brought more sweat and hastened his breathing – damn, he was more out of shape than he thought.
Peering through the chokecherries he saw a cardinal’s brilliant red plumage suddenly burst out of hiding in a stately elm and two smaller, more nondescript birds at the same time from the same tree. Tracing the line of the trunk to the ground he saw what he hoped: a human figure clad head-to-toe in a camouflage jumper.
EACH PIC REPRESENTS THE BOOK COVER AND AN EXAMPLE FROM WITHIN THE PAGES.