At one o’clock, Jared was back in the field with Camille. The volunteer group split up after dart practice. Some went east, some south. Duane and Darrell were on the west side of the refuge; they hadn’t spotted anything. Jared and Camille went north, working past the perimeter fencing. The tornado had shredded the shrubs and small trees; it was impossible to tell if a big cat had broken branches at waist level or the wind had done it.
Camille had been volunteering at the refuge for nearly five years. She was licensed, level-headed, and knew her stuff about the cats. Jared had felt her interest in him more pointedly since Juliana had left him; Camille had asked him twice if he wanted to grab a meal and brought him a flirty-friendly birthday card in July. He felt not a twinge of heat toward
