Kaleidoscope Eyes Page 10

  God was a joke. He had to be. Because no God of love and mercy would let Jed’s dad come home at that precise moment—a perfectly timed opportunity to show him he’d been replaced.

  The day after graduation, Jed packed up his beater and left his family—and their antiquated beliefs—behind. He left his mom a note, telling her he was going to LA. He knew she’d be upset. He didn’t care. He was doing what was best for him.

  And he’d been right. Hadn’t he found his dream? It had taken a lot of years and a lot of work, but everything was finally going great. Better than he’d ever imagined.

  Still, seeing the name of his hometown like that did something to him. Stirred up something deep inside.

  He carried the still soggy clipping to the table, sat down, and read.

  The article told about an elderly woman getting lost in the mountains outside Medford. Jed knew that area. He and his dad used to hike there all the time growing up. And after his dad left, Jed spent more time up there than at home. He’d even found one spot in particular he really liked.

  But as great as that area was for hiking, it sure wasn’t the place for some old woman. Especially one with Alzheimer’s.

  Enter search and rescue. And, he flipped the page, one team in particular …

  Jed stopped reading and straightened in his chair even as his pulse started dancing. He studied the picture of the woman and her search dog. The animal was huge, almost as big as the woman. As for her, well, that was one pretty woman. And there was something in her eyes. Something … hidden.

  Something that Jed knew, without a doubt, he could uncover.

  He laid the paper down and leaned back in his chair.

  Fans of Everyday Heroes were gonna love these two. And even more important, the network was gonna love Jed for finding them.

  THIRTEEN

  “Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced,

  and the inconvenience is often considerable.”

  JANE AUSTEN

  “You chart the path ahead of me.”

  PSALM 139:3

  SEPTEMBER 25—A CORNFLOWER DAY (GREEN AND BLUE)

  Oregon and Ireland.

  Though thousands of miles apart, they shared a common trait: climate. And that was just one more thing Annie loved about Oregon, because that meant she had something many others throughout the states did not: daffodils in September.

  And red clover. And roses. And poppies. And cornflowers. And irises. And glads … You name it, Annie had it in her garden. And it was all in glorious, hue-drenched bloom.

  She sat back, wiping a hand across her brow. Though early morning, it was plenty warm. And working in the garden always had a way of making her sweat. She’d had no idea when she was little, watching her mother tend her pansies, what hard work gardening was.

  But it was worth every drop of sweat, every aching muscle. For there, in her yard, was a blanket of dancing colors.

  Her colors.

  When she bought her ranch-style log home nearly five years ago, she’d known that one day she’d plant a garden. But the idea to plant a garden this way, with greenery and blossoms that reflected the colors she saw in letters and numbers, hadn’t occurred to her right away. Not until after she’d lived in the home for almost a year. It was then, as she was building a fire in the river rock fireplace in the large family room, that she realized something was missing.

  Color.

  To be more precise, her colors.

  Oh, she had them in several pieces of stained glass she’d done for the doors, for the crescent window overlooking the valley, but that wasn’t enough. She needed something more. And no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find any prints or paintings or decorations that felt right.

  Then she received a bulb catalog in the mail. The moment she looked at the pictures of flowers, she knew. This was it.

  She’d debated whether to plant the front-or backyard, then settled on. the front, lining the walkway to the main door. That way the flowers could greet any visitors.

  Kyla helped her with the initial planting during one of her visits. They’d even put in a little pond for water lilies and cattails. What started as a small section of flowers had spread, making her front yard a virtual showcase. She had flowers almost year-round now, both outside in the garden and inside in overflowing vases.

  Finally, her colors were everywhere, and she loved it.

  The lyrical tones of her cell phone piped up, startling Annie so she jumped, almost sending her garden stool flying. She yanked the offending phone from her jeans pocket and flipped it open.

  “Annie? It’s Bree.”

  The moment Annie heard her friend’s voice, she remembered. Kodi’s vet appointment! “Did I miss it?”

  Laughter danced over the circuits. “Nope. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

  Annie looked down at her muddy clothes and sighed. “It’s a good thing you guys love me. I’m a mess.”

  “We don’t love you. But we love Kodi, so we put up with you.”

  She made a face at the phone. “Ha ha. See you in a few.”

  Flipping the phone shut, she took one last longing look at her garden, then ran to the house to grab the two things she’d better not forget: her car keys and her dog.

  “You found ’em again, eh?”

  Annie held Kodi’s head steady as Dr. Matthew Harding aimed the light from his otoscope to peer down an ear canal.

  “Kodi found the woman, Matt. You know that.”

  He clicked off the scope, then gave Kodi’s ear a scratch. “Indeed I do. You’ve got a regular star here, you know.”

  “Hmm … ” As the vet made notes in Kodi’s chart, Annie lifted the dog from the exam table down to the floor. “She certainly knows it, with all the attention she’s been getting lately. I swear, this dog must have gained five pounds, what with all the extra biscuits she’s been getting from people we see.”

  “Well—” the vet turned—“you were in the paper. Not just our paper, mind you, but the Oregonian and LA Times. Big stuff, Annie. That makes you a bit of a celebrity.”

  “Goody gumdrops.”

  Dr. Harding chuckled. “Look at it this way, it’s good PR for your search and rescue group.”

  That it was. And for that reason alone, Annie had tried not to get frustrated with all the attention the last few days—her phone ringing day and night with people wanting interviews.

  Annie wasn’t sure why this particular rescue had caught the media’s attention—though she suspected it was Bertha coming to give her “wolf” a hug that did it. Two pictures had run with the story in the papers: one of Bertha delivering a kiss to Kodi’s snout and one of Annie and Kodi. Annie loved the first, tolerated the second—and could only hope interest waned sooner rather than later. “So did our girl here girl pass her six-month checkup?”

  “With flying colors, as usual.” Dr. Harding fished a doggy treat out of the jar on the counter, then held it out to Kodi, who lady that she was, took it with gentle care—then snarfed it down. They both laughed.

  Kodi padding along beside her, Annie headed out to the reception area to pay for the visit. “Hey, Bree.”

  Brianna Heller, one of Annie’s closest friends, looked up, her blue eyes twinkling. “Hey there, Miss Celebrity.”

  Annie groaned. “Please, not you too.”

  “Are you kidding? We put the article up on the wall!”

  Annie followed Bree’s pointing finger, and there it was. Tacked to the corkboard, where pictures of staff members’ family shared space with shots of the clinic’s four-legged patients.

  “I understand you’re leaving Kodi with us for a grooming session?”

  “Shh!” Annie covered Kodi’s ears. “She doesn’t know she’s staying.”

  Bree knew as well as Annie how Kodi carried on when she was left at the clinic. Annie had yet to hand the dog off without Kodi leaning against her, whining as though she were being tortured. Not because they treated her badly. Quite the contrary, t
hey loved Kodi and treated her like royalty. But, as with most German shepherds, Kodi was, plain and simple, a big baby.

  Annie handed her debit card to Bree, then stepped closer to the pictures on the corkboard. Most of the pictures were typical photos, but there were two—stunning shots of a beautiful towheaded girl—that Annie recognized right away as quality photography.

  “You’re getting better with that camera all the time.”

  Bree ran Annie’s payment, then held out a pen for her signature on the receipt. “High praise coming from a real artist.”

  Annie took the pen. “Hmm. Of course, you have a beautiful subject. I swear, Amberly just keeps getting prettier.” She scrawled her name, then tucked the receipt in her pocket.

  “She was just asking me this morning when she gets to see Kodi again.”

  Annie’s lips twitched. “Kodi, huh? Not Auntie Annie?”

  “What can I say? My daughter loves animals more than people.” She waggled her brows. “Takes after her mother.”

  Annie leaned her elbows on the desk. “So did you talk with Mark about taking a break?”

  She and Bree had gone to lunch last week, and after listening to Bree relate all she’d been dealing with at the clinic lately, Annie told the woman to run, not walk, home and tell her husband she needed a vacation.

  “Actually, I did. We’re going camping for a week with the Conrads up around Diamond Lake.”

  “Oh, you’ll all have a blast.”

  Bree grinned. “I’ll get my exercise keeping up with the kid, that’s for sure. By the way, how’s the window for that sweet old lady coming?”

  Annie grimaced. “Don’t ask. That’s why I was lost in my gardening when you called. I was trying to find some kind of inspiration.”

  “Tell you what, I’m taking my camera with me. How about I take some shots for you? I’ve been playing with perspective and depth of field, and it would be fun to watch for shots that are something … different.”

  Annie tipped her head. “You mean, something where you see things in a new way?”

  “Exactly”

  A tinge of excitement stirred in Annie’s chest. “That’d be great, Bree. You sure you don’t mind?”

  “Hey, you know me. I’m happiest when I’m with my family and I’ve got my camera in my hands.”

  “Well, you’ll get both! And take some shots of Amberly for me too. You’ve got a real little beauty there.”

  “And so have you.” Bree leaned over the counter and offered Kodi a doggy biscuit.

  “She’s already had—”

  Too late. Casting her mistress a triumphant sideways glance, Kodi plucked the cookie from Bree’s fingers and all but inhaled it.

  “Pig dog,” Annie muttered under her breath as she handed Kodi’s leash to Bree. “You’re gonna weigh a ton if you keep this up.”

  Kodi’s tail wagged in happy agreement.

  “I get to go for my own checkup today, Bree, so Killian’s assistant, Ryan, is going to pick up the beast for me. I tried to get Killian to do it, but you know what he thinks of Kodi.”

  “Let’s see, what was it he said last time? A walking fur ball?”

  “Besides, he does have an excuse. Kind of. He’s just getting back to town from Hollywood.”

  “You mean Hollyweird, right?”

  Annie grinned. “He was off doing another consultation with some home makeover show.”

  “Must be nice to be so popular.” Bree held another cookie in front of Kodi’s suddenly attentive nose. “Now quick, slip out the door while I distract her.”

  Annie did as she was told, opening the door and slipping out. Nary a whine nor whimper followed.

  No wonder she liked bringing Kodi here. Even the receptionists were geniuses!

  The sun was just starting to dip behind the mountains when Annie finally made it home. She’d waited more than an hour and a half for her doctor’s appointment. By the time she’d seen the doctor, her normally low blood pressure was nowhere to be found.

  Robin, the nurse, who knew Annie’s blood pressure history as well as anyone, angled a look at Annie as she removed the cuff. “Still hate waiting, huh, Annie?”

  Fortunately, the rest of the checkup went well. But then Annie had a number of errands to run, so by the time she got home, she was tired and frazzled and ready to collapse on the couch. Arms loaded with grocery bags, she’d just slipped the key into the front door when she heard the phone ringing.

  “Great. Just great.”

  Juggling the keys and the bags of groceries, she shoved the door open—and was accosted by an even more exuberant than usual Kodi. Nothing got her worked up like a grooming session.

  “Yes, yes, you’re beautiful.”

  But Kodi was not to be placated. The dog circled around Annie’s legs, wagging that massive black head back and forth and talking up a storm with that throaty, deep-chested rumble of hers: “Aroww-row-row!”

  Translation: “How could you leave me! And how could you let that awful man pick me up!”

  Annie knew even without the shepherd’s accusatory glare that she’d committed a canine cardinal sin: she’d left Kodi at the vet. And she’d almost compounded the sin by asking Killian to pick the dog up to bring her home.

  Kodi did not—emphasis on not—like Killian. Nothing Annie did or said made a difference. Killian showed up, and Kodi immediately went into sulk mode. Which, when it came down to it, was only fair, because Killian was about as fond of Kodi as the dog was of him.

  Annie didn’t understand—or like—the mutual abhorrence. Fortunately, Kodi didn’t frequent art galleries, so it wasn’t hard to keep the two far apart. And equally fortunate, Killian had Ryan to turn to when Annie asked him to come anywhere near the dog.

  “Kodi, come on, girl. Give me a break … ” Annie tried to dodge the dog and succeeded in nearly taking a header when Kodi zigged back in front of her and nudged her snout at Annie’s elbow.

  “I can’t pet you right now! I’m trying to answer the phone. Move, you big moose!” Annie angled a hip into Kodi, shoving her out of the way, then plopped the grocery bags on the counter and snatched the receiver, gasping out a hello.

  There was a pause, then, “Miss Justice?”

  Annie frowned. She didn’t recognize the voice. “Yes?”

  “This is E J Curry. I’m with Everyday Heroes, the reality show on television?”

  Great. She’d almost taken a nosedive over her dog for a sales call. “I’m sorry, I don’t watch much TV, so I’m not interested. Bye.”

  She set the phone back in the base, then turned to more important matters. Such as getting her ice cream into the freezer before it melted.

  The phone rang again.

  “What is this today? Grand Central Station?” She tossed the ice cream into the freezer, pushed the door shut, and reached for the phone. “Hello?”

  “Miss Justice, it’s E. J. Curry again.”

  Ooooh. A pushy one. Annie leaned back against the counter, lips pursed. Okay, fine. She had a little time to play. “So what does that stand for?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  She nudged Kodi out of the way The dog was practically standing on top of her for some reason. “E. J. I assume it stands for something?”

  He paused. “Ernest Jediah.”

  Oh my. Talk about a perfect setup. “Don’t you find it a bit of a disconnect?” She allowed herself a smile at the silence that met her question.

  Perfect. Objective accomplished. Maybe he’d give up and go away.

  “Excuse me? I’m not sure I understand.”

  Or not. Okay, she’d keep at it a little while longer. “A disconnect, Mr. Curry Being earnest. In your chosen occupation. Actually, in a couple aspects, being a salesman and working in reality television.”

  She wasn’t sure what response she expected. Maybe that he’d just hang up on her seeing as she was being such a brat. Still, she told him she wasn’t interested, and he called back, so really, who was to blame?


  But he didn’t hang up. Instead, he gave a deep, rich chuckle.

  And a whine. Not from the man, but from Kodi. She pawed at Annie, looking for all the world like she was trying to reach for the phone. Annie shooed the dog away.

  “No,” the man finally responded, “not at all. Because try as I might, I can’t help but be Ernest in pretty much everything I do.”

  Hmm. Clever guy. But then, he was a salesman.

  She turned to upend the grocery bag on the kitchen island, then grabbed at a can of orange juice as it tried to roll off the island, nearly tripping over Kodi in the process. What was wrong with that dog? “That’s fine, Mr. Curry, but as I said, I’m really not int—”

  “Miss Justice, I’m not a salesman.”

  “Oh?” This was a new one. She settled the OJ into the freezer beside the ice cream. “So what do they call you guys nowadays?”

  “The director.”

  This time it was she who fell silent. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m the director of Everyday Heroes. And I’m calling because I’d really love to feature you and your dog on the show.”

  Kodi barked. Annie frowned. “Feature us?”

  “Right. Are you familiar with the show at all?”

  She shook her head, then grimaced. Dummy. Head shakes don’t work over the phone.

  “Let me guess, you’re shaking your head.”

  Annie started. “How did you know that?”

  “Well, I could say I heard the rattle, but I was just guessing.”

  Before she could come up with a response caustic enough, he went on, explaining the show Annie had to admit it sounded interesting. She might even try to catch an episode to check it out. Still …

  Another paw came to rest on her leg. Annie brushed it away “Will you knock it off?”

  “I’m sorry, I meant that as a joke.”

  “No, not you, Mr. Curry. It’s my … oh, never mind. Look, what does your show have to do with me and Kodi?”

  “Everything!”

  Were all directors this dramatic?

  “You and your dog are news, Miss Justice. Folks loved that story about the woman you found. I can send you dozens of letters to the editor from papers across the country I mean, the way you found that poor woman—”