don't think - just do

You had always liked places that felt untouched by people. Wide open fields, the mountains, clearings in forests.

Montana was good for that.

And you were good in capturing that quiet on camera. Your portfolio showed not only land though, ranchers, cowboys, cattle. You liked to photograph it all.

You sold prints online and worked freelance for magazines and companies, the occasional wedding. It wasn’t as glamorous as people thought it to be but it was yours. And you loved it.

Today you parked at a dirt road that wasn’t here last year. Someone had bought this land pretty recently. There was talk in town about development. Investment money from out of state.

You didn’t thought about it much.

You hiked a little further before you adjusted your lens.

Click.

You zoom in a little. That’s when you noticed the vehicles. Three dark SUVs parked a bit further from where you’re standing.

They looked out of place. You lowered your camera and squint in the distance.

There are men standing close to the cars. Four maybe five. From this far away they’re just silouhettes.

Your photographer instinct won. You lifted your camera again. The images sharpened. They didn’t look relaxed. One man stood slightly apart from the others. Another held something you can’t quite make out.

You adjusted the focus.

Click.

A gesture. Sharp. Argumentative.

You shifted your stance slightly to stabilize the shot.

And that’s when it happened.

One of the men stepped away from the group. Slowly.

He turned his head, not toward the others, toward the horizon.

Toward you.

Through your lens, his face came into focus just as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the surroundings.

And for a moment, you were no longer just observing.

You were visible.

Even from this distance, you knew the moment he saw the shape of you. The outline. The raised camera.

Your finger froze on the shutter.

He didn’t move, didn’t indicate that he saw you. He just looked.

Your pulse quickened. Slowly you lowered the camera.

You turn back towards the road and let yourself breathe again.

Getting into your car, not looking back. Only when you started your car you glanced back into the rearview mirror. One of the SUVs has shifted positions. It was angled differently now. Facing the road. Not moving but watching. Your stomach dropped.

You told yourself it was fine, that you were overreacting.

Back home you uploaded the pictures onto your laptop. You hoped it would calm your nerves, maybe your brain had overreacted and he hadn’t even looked at you.

But zooming in your hopes were soon crushed. He looked directly at you. Defeated you zoomed out but before you had done that completely you saw something else.

The shape on the ground near the second vehicle. Unmistakably a body.

You felt your body going cold.

You hadn’t imagined anything.

You didn’t call anyone right away. You tried to busy yourself. It was late. You ended up at the laptop again and again. Zooming in.

You didn’t knew what you stepped into but you knew one thing, they knew that someone saw.

You unlocked your phone multiple times. Almost hit the call button to the local sheriff multiple times. You knew you should report that. Someone was killed.

Your voice was steadier than you expected when someone answered.

You described what you saw.

There was a shift in the tone on the other end almost immediately.

More questions.

Location? Time? Distance? Did they see you?

Your throat tightened slightly at that last question.

“Yes,” you admitted. “I think one of them did.”

There’s a pause.

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to come in to our office,” the voice said, professional but sharp. “And do not share those images with anyone.”

You looked back at the screen.

At the man staring at you.

“Okay,” you said quietly.

A woman with a badge met you in the station. She didn’t work for the Sheriff. You had never seen her before.

She went through what you told them yesterday again. Making notes. You had handed her your SD cars. They looked at your photos.

”Did you know any of these men?” She asked.

“No.”

“Have you ever been approached by anyone connected to that property?”

“No.”

“Did anyone follow you?”

You hesitated.

“I don’t think so. But one of them saw me.”

That got written down immediately.

The agent nodded once, slow. Then stood.

“Wait here.”

The conference room smelled like old coffee as Kayce stepped in.

He stood near the window instead of sitting down, like always.

He hadn’t slept well, but then again he couldn’t remember the last time he did. Not since last year when his whole world got turned upside down. The ranch, the animals, his job and Tate while handling his own grief and his sons did not leave a lot of space for sleep or relaxing.

A file on the table.

”That’s our witness?“ Agent Ramirez asked, flipping through the pages.

“Photographer,” another agent said. “Freelance. No prior record. Clean.”

Kayce didn’t turn around.

“Anyone run her plates?” he asked.

“Already done. Nothing unusual.”

He nodded once.

“And the land purchase?”

“Company tied to a development group out of state. That group is under federal review for suspected laundering through property acquisitions.”

Kayce exhaled slowly through his nose.

He has seen this before.

Money that looks legitimate until you follow it far enough.

“They know someone was there,” Ramirez added. “One of the men is clearly scanning the ridge in this frame.”

Kayce turned then, stepping toward the table.

He studied the photo again.

“They didn’t chase,” Kayce said quietly. “That means they’re confident.”

“Or patient.”

“Same thing.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Do we have a safe house for her to stay?” Kayce asked.

Ramirez hesitated.

“Closest available is two states over. We’ve got one tied up on a trafficking case and another compromised after last month.”

Kayce’s jaw tightened.

“She can’t stay in her apartment,” he said.

“No.”

Another silence.

One of the younger agents shifted in his seat. “We could move her tonight. Rotate locations.”

“That increases exposure,” Kayce replied immediately. “More transport. More eyes.”

Ramirez leaned back. “Temporary hold with a marshal?”

The suggestion hangs in the air.

Kayce didn’t react outwardly.

But something inside him shifted.

He hasn’t housed a witness in over a year.

Hasn’t had anyone in his space in over a year.

His house is quiet.

Too quiet.

Since Monica died.

Ramirez looked at him directly. “You’re closest to the case.”

Kayce met his gaze.

“It’d be short-term,” Ramirez added. “Until we confirm threat level.”

Kayce looked back down at the photo.

Next to the picture of you. Wrong place, wrong time.

He knew it was the right thing to do. For his work.

”Yeah, she’ll stay with me.“ he said finally.

Ramirez nodded once

”We‘ll rotate surveillance.“

Kayce gave him a nod back as he gathered the file.

Before he left Ramirez stepped closer

”You sure about this?“

For a second something flickered on Kayce’s face.

”It’s a job.“

He said.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when footsteps were approaching.

Different ones than before.

Heavier.

The door opened.

Broad shoulders. Dark jacket. Badge clipped at his belt. Not polished. Not smiling. Just solid. He was very handsome, but your thoughts were not not lingering on this.

His eyes found you immediately.

They were not cold but something in them looked distant.

"You the photographer?" he asked.

His voice is low. Even. Controlled.

You nodded. "Yes."

He stepped inside and closed the door.

”I‘m deputy Marshal Kayce Dutton.“ he said.

He didn’t fidgeted, didn’t rush, just pulled out the chair across from you and sat.

”You did the right thing coming here.” He told you.

He laid out your photos.

”Walk me through this.“

You leaned forward

”I was about.. maybe three hundred yards out. Long lens. I don’t think they could see me.“

He listened without interrupting. When you finished he tapped the photo of the man looking at your camera.

”He saw you.“ it was not a question and your stomach dropped even though you already knew.

”There’s a threat attached to this case. The land purchase is tied to a federal investigation. And if they think you have evidence…“ he didn’t finish.

”What does that mean for me?“ you asked, mouth feeling dry.

He held your gaze

”It means you don’t go home today.“

Your fingers curled slightly against the table. "I have work. Equipment. My apartment-"

"We'll handle it." His tone wasn’t dismissive but it leaves you no room to discuss.

”You‘ll be under temporary protection until we assess how exposed you are.“

You searched his face for exaggeration, there wasn’t any.

”Is that really necessary?“ you asked quietly.

He didn’t hesitate when he said yes.

He leaned back slightly, letting you absorb the information of the last minutes.

”I won’t lie,“ he said after a moment ”They saw you as a witness, they’ll try to identify you. Right now we‘re one step ahead of them but we won’t take any chances.“

You swallowed

”Okay.“

He nodded once like he had expected that answer.

”I‘ll be your point of contact. If anyone tries to reach out for you, calls you, emails, you tell me immediately.“

You nodded again.

”Did you make copies of that file?“

He asked, not in an accusing tone.

”Yeah.“ you admit

”Good.“ he said with the smallest flicker of approval.

”Bring them with you.“ he added

”With me where?“

He studied you for a moment, then said evenly: ”We don’t have an open safe house within immediate distance.“

He paused before continuing

”You‘ll be staying somewhere secure.“ he stood, motioning for you to do the same

”I‘ll explain in the car.“