Kaleidoscope Eyes Page 3

  LUKE 1:78-79

  “Step within His light and keep following.”

  ELSI DODGE

  SEPTEMBER 8

  Time had lost all meaning.

  Torture had a way of making that happen. And if standing here being badgered by these two women wasn’t torture, Dan Justice didn’t know what was.

  “I can’t believe I let you two talk me into this. Do you know what time it is?” He lifted the phone from its base, ready to dial.

  “Your sister won’t mind, Sheriff. I just know she won’t.”

  Dan’s fingers tightened on the phone. “Aggie, how long have we known each other?”

  Agatha Hunter pursed her lined lips. “Sheriff, do you really think now is the time to reminisce?”

  “Agatha, how long?”

  “Howl on?” Doris Kleffer, Agatha’s best friend and constant companion, tugged at the taller woman’s sleeve. “What’s the sheriff talking about? Did you howl? I didn’t hear you howl.”

  Aggie batted at Doris’s veined hand. “How long, Doris. He wants to know how long we’ve known him.”

  “Well!” Doris huffed. “This is hardly the time to discuss that!”

  “That’s what I said, but he wants to know.”

  “Wants to go? Go where?”

  “Know, Doris. He wants to know! Turn up your hearing aid!”

  His head was going to explode. Dan was sure of it. Just blow, right then and there, into a million throbbing pieces. He knew he should have taken two weeks for a honeymoon instead of one.

  He gripped the phone so hard his hand ached. “Ladies! Please!”

  The two elderly women nearly jumped out of their skin at Dan’s bellowed exasperation, but he didn’t really care that he’d startled them. “All I’m saying is we’ve known each other long enough for you to remember that I. Am. Not. A. Sheriff!” He ground out each word with precise—and increasing—emphasis and volume. “Got it?”

  “Well, fine, Sher—Deputy” Aggie amended at Dan’s murderous glare. “Why didn’t you just say so before?”

  “Why didn’t …?” No point saying he’d been telling them that from the day they met over two years ago. They wouldn’t listen. Yup. His head was definitely going to explode.

  Sighing his surrender, Dan punched in Annie’s pager number.

  Sorry; Sis. But I need reinforcements.

  SEPTEMBER 8—A CATTAIL DAY (AUBURN)

  Annie was dreaming.

  It was a nice dream too. No, make that a great one.

  She’d had the same dream off and on since she was a teen. A tall, handsome man riding a white horse. The breeze ruffled his short brown hair. Approval twinkled in those Belgian chocolate eyes as he studied her. The faintest tinge of raspberry shimmered around him as he reached down from the height of the horse’s back and held out his hand. Annie laid her palm in his—the fit was perfect—and his fingers closed, nestling her hand in warmth and strength. He was just about to lift her to the saddle behind him, and Annie was poised and ready …

  Her dream self frowned.

  What was that noise? Something sharp and piercing …

  Someone needed to make that noise stop.

  Her knight’s face lifted in a warm smile—a smile as familiar to Annie as her own. He pulled her onto the horse, and as she settled against him, he looked back over his shoulder. “Will you …?”

  She strained to hear the rest of his question. Longed to hear it. But that noise tugged at her.

  Ringing. Something was ringing.

  “Will I?” She laid her cheek against the back of his shoulder, so at home.

  His fingers brushed her face. “Will you …?”

  What was that ringing!?

  She gritted her teeth, ignoring the annoyance. “Yes? Go on.”

  He blinked. Then turned around and frowned. “Will you answer that darned pager?”

  Annie jerked awake, sitting bolt upright, heart pounding. She blinked as her knight’s image faded, then tried to focus on the bright red numbers of the clock on her bedside table.

  2:00 a.m.

  Not that that bothered her. Annie was used to pages or phone calls in the wee hours of the morning. Nor was it Kodi’s sudden restless pacing next to the bed, as though the dog knew before Annie answered who was on the line. Because she probably did.

  Calls at this hour usually meant one thing.

  Someone was lost.

  As much as Annie hated to think of someone wandering in the darkness, frightened, possibly injured, that didn’t really bother her either. Because she and Kodi were good at what they did. The best, some said.

  And what they did was find people. Bring them home.

  But what did bother Annie as another ring split the silence was one simple thought: Killian’s gonna kill me.

  She pushed clear of the last vestiges of her dream—though she really didn’t want to—and freed her legs from the bedsheets. Perching on the edge of the bed, she grabbed her pager and read the callback number.

  It wasn’t search and rescue. Well, then who on earth was it?

  She considered ignoring it, but something about the number looked familiar. She grabbed the phone and dialed. Someone answered on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, this is Annie Justice. Someone paged me—”

  “Annie? It’s Dan.”

  She frowned. Why was he paging her at this time of morning? She grabbed the clock and peered at it again. Yep. She’d read it right. 2:00 a.m. “Dan, you’re my brother and I love you, but you woke me out of a dead sleep—”

  “Is she there? Will she come?”

  Who was talking in the background? Annie set down the clock and rubbed a hand over her eyes. It sounded like … but no. No way she’d be awake this time of morning—

  “Hush!” This from Dan, kind of muffled, as though he’d turned away from the phone. Then he came back on the line. “Look, sis, I know this is unusual. But—”

  The background voice broke in again. “Ask her if she’ll help us, Sheriff.”

  “I’m not the sheriff!” Dan’s terse reply sounded like it forced itself through gritted teeth. Only one person could make Annie’s brother this crazy.

  “Ask her if she’s jealous?” A second voice chimed in. “Why on earth would she be jealous?”

  “Help us, you twit. Not jealous!”

  Annie held back a laugh. Okay make that two people. No mistaking those voices—Agatha Hunter and Doris Kleffer were not only awake, but in rare form.

  Her brother groaned. “Annie, I need your help.”

  “Obviously.” Kodi pawed at Annie’s arm, begging a scratch, but she shooed the dog away. “What’s up?”

  “Have you heard about the Alzheimer’s patient who wandered off up here?”

  She stifled a yawn just as Kodi lifted that huge paw to whap her arm again. She held the receiver away “Fine, you monster.” She patted the bed beside her, and Kodi gave one powerful leap. Annie braced herself for impact, but the bed barely moved under the dog’s gentle landing. Amazing how such a large animal could move with such grace. Always made Annie think of a linebacker doing ballet. She leaned against Kodi as the shepherd snuggled close and settled down.

  Right on Annie’s pillow

  Over her shoulder Annie eyed the dog; Kodi turned her head to stare at the wall.

  Coward.

  “Annie? Did you hear me?”

  “Sure. It’s been all over the news.”

  Just after dinner several nights ago, an eighty-five-year-old woman with Alzheimer’s had apparently walked out of the senior foster home where she lived. The home was situated on the outskirts of town, backed by a clearing, a stand of woods, and a ravine.

  Not a brilliant place for a foster home, but options were limited in Sanctuary, Oregon.

  Since Dan lived in Sanctuary, she’d known he’d be involved in the search. Shelby was getting a taste of being a deputy’s wife right off the bat. But as much as Annie felt bad for Shelby, she also knew
Dan would be an invaluable resource for the search teams.

  “In fact, I figured that’s what this was, a callout for me and Kodi to come join the search.” She slid her feet back under the covers, pushing back against Kodi. The dog didn’t budge. “But I can’t say I’m sorry it’s not. I could use the slee—”

  “Actually—” there was a cringe in Dan’s tone—“it is.”

  Annie lay against her dog for a second, then pulled her feet free of the sheets and sat on the edge of the bed again. What was going on? Dan didn’t issue callouts for K-9 search and rescue. She glanced over at Kodi. The dog was still sprawled on her pillow, but her brown gaze was fixed on Annie, and those giant bat ears were perked.

  Yeah, you can tell something’s up, can’t you, girl? “Oh?”

  Dan released a heavy sigh. “Look, sis, I know this isn’t following protocol—”

  “Not even close.”

  Kodi’s large paw reached out and batted at her. She batted back, giving the dog an exaggerated frown. This was no time to beg for attention.

  “—and that I should let you wait for an official request to join the search—”

  Another paw. Another frown. “But?”

  “But I’m a deputy, so you could consider this official.” Dan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And these two women are driving me absolutely bonkers!”

  Annie couldn’t restrain a laugh, and Kodi jumped up, pacing behind her on the bed. Annie looped an arm around the dog’s neck.

  “Friend of theirs, I take it?”

  “Not just a friend. A ‘bosom buddy,’ as Aggie says. Woman’s name is Bertha Norris.”

  “She lives at the adult foster home with Aggie and Doris?”

  “She does.”

  “The search teams haven’t had any luck finding her?”

  “No. They haven’t found any sign of Bertha yet. Doris and Aggie have been all but glued to my side since Bertha wandered off.”

  “Lucky yo—”

  “Day and night.”

  “I get the pict—”

  “Right here. With me.”

  Annie swallowed another laugh. Clearly now was not the time to tease her beloved brother. “Do Doris or Agatha have any idea where she might have gone?”

  Silence met her question, then another heavy sigh. “They think she’s been abducted.”

  “Let me guess, by aliens?”

  He snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past them to think that. But no, they think she’s been nabbed by—”

  “Did you tell her about the reprobate who was hanging around the home, talking with Bertha?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Doris, you’re standing practically on top of the sheriff. Did you hear him tell his sister about that?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Hear him. Did you hear him tell—”

  “Knock it off!” Dan’s voice barked over the phone lines with such force that Kodi yelped and jumped away even as Annie jerked the receiver from her ear. A second passed, then, “Annie? You still there?”

  She nestled the receiver close again. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Sorry about that. I’m just at the end of my rope. I mean, I know you’ve got a big showing today—”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be there.”

  “Killian’s gonna take my head off.”

  Yeah. Dan really sounded worried. Not.

  Little wonder. Killian was matchless when it came to dealing in contemporary art. And his gallery, Expressions, was arguably the most respected in the region. As evidenced by the fact that he was rapidly becoming the darling of home makeover shows, being flown hither and yon as a consultant.

  But take Dan’s head?

  He couldn’t even reach Dan’s head.

  Annie stood. “Let me worry about Killian.”

  “Better you than me, that’s for sure. I don’t think I could be nearly as patien—”

  “Well?” Agatha’s voice was so clear that it had to be right in Dan’s ear. “Is she coming?”

  “Humming? Who cares if she’s humming? Is she coming?”

  “Oh, for—! That’s what I said, Doris. I said coming. Didn’t I say coming, Sheriff?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you two—” good thing the ladies were hard of hearing, or Dan’s furious growl would surely send them scampering for cover—“I’m not the sheriff! I’m a deputy!”

  Agatha was having none of it. “Oh, piddly-poof! You’re as good as any sheriff in our book.”

  “Better!” Pure glee overflowed with Doris’s agreement. “Sheriffs make you do things their way, like they’re the law or some silly thing.”

  “The nerve!”

  “Indeed!”

  Annie was almost choking on laughter when Dan’s hoarse whisper came back on the line. “Annie, for the love of heaven—hurry!”

  She stretched. “Kodi and I will be at your office within the hour.”

  “Thanks, sis, I owe you.”

  “Yes, you most certainly do.”

  Annie hung up, fingers tapping out a mindless rhythm on the phone as she gathered her thoughts.

  Killian loved her, quirks and all. She knew that without a doubt. He’d found out about her condition in high school, when they teamed together for a world history report. Killian wanted to do the Revolutionary War, but Annie preferred the history of the Eiffel Tower because, she told him, the colors were better.

  At Killian’s stare, she explained. “I see colors, okay? It’s called synesthesia, a condition where actual physical perceptions get crossed. Letters and numbers have their own colors. And when you combine them, the shades mix, even change a little depending on the color of their neighbors. Whatever letter or number comes first has the most impact … kind of shades everything else. So some dates, some words, they’re nicer than others.”

  She’d waited for him to laugh, to make fun of her. Instead, he cocked his head. “What color am I?”

  No one had ever responded with such acceptance.

  “Well, the letters in your name are a mixture of colors, but k is a bright pink, so that kind of overshadows the rest.”

  He blinked. “So you’re telling me I’m … pink?”

  Annie laughed. “I know, not too masculine, huh? But it’s a very nice color. Friendly and warm.” She touched his arm. “Just like you.”

  She didn’t mention that his pink clashed a bit with his red hair. It would only upset him. Besides, Killian was a smorgasbord of conflicts—caring and demanding, supportive and sarcastic, understanding and impatient. So the clash fit.

  From that point on, Killian delighted in hearing about her condition. And any time she whined about being different, he’d shake his head. “Annie, your ability to see colors where others don’t? It’s a gift.” He peered at her over those round, wire rim glasses that made him look so wise. “I’d love to see life the way you do.”

  Even her own family hadn’t made her feel as comfortable with herself, her differences, as Killian.

  Lately, though, Killian was stressed to the max. He’d been working long and hard to get ready for today’s showing. Of course, that was only right since the whole thing was his idea. One he hatched the moment he saw her most recent completed window.

  “A grand unveiling, that’s what this calls for. We’ll feature this window and your other works. It will be huge! Now—” he’d pulled his large desk calendar toward her—“what day in September has the best colors for a showing?”

  When she chose the eighth, he fingered the date on the page. “Why that one in particular?”

  “It’s an auburn green day.”

  “An auburn green day … ” Killian took a green marker from his desk drawer and circled the date. “That’s good. Green Auburn is rich and alive, earthy. A good day for creativity.”

  “Exactly.”

  Killian snapped the cap back on the marker. “Perfect choice.”

  Too bad he wasn’t as enthusiastic about her involvement with search and rescue.

&nbs
p; He’d never liked the idea of her spending time away from her art. When she and Kodi earned a reputation for finding people when others couldn’t and the demand for them increased, Killian hadn’t said a word. He didn’t need to. Annie could tell he didn’t like it.

  Not even a little.

  But it wasn’t until her stained glass art started gaining notice that Killian actually suggested she give up search and rescue. The first time he did, Annie just patted her flamboyant friend on the head.

  “Don’t be silly, Killie.”

  “Oh. Fine. Now you think you’re a poet.”

  The last few months, though, any good humor on his part had faded. He’d brought it up again just a few days ago. “Annie, please, this search and rescue thing is too disruptive. You never know when you’re going to get one of those call ups—”

  “Callout, Killie. You get called up in the military”

  “Whatever. And they’re almost always in the middle of the night.”

  “Because people don’t call for help until they’ve spent hours trying to find the lost person themselves. Then it gets dark and they get scared.”

  Killian brushed imaginary lint from his sleeve. Like lint would dare land on his immaculate clothing. Killian was as GQ as it got—stylish to a fault. Always had been.

  “All I know,” he went on, “is that it’s time away from your art. And that’s not good for you.”

  “It’s about balance, Killian. Not one involvement taking over another.”

  Unfortunately, Killian and balance weren’t terribly well acquainted. Which made her that much more hesitant to risk upsetting him. After all, this showing was featuring her art. He’d expect her to be there.

  On time.

  Ah well … no point putting off the inevitable. She lifted the phone, punched in the number, and listened as the phone rang once, twice—

  “Good morning.”

  Annie smiled. Leave it to Killian to sound wide-awake at almost two-thirty in the morning. “Killie, it’s Annie.”

  “No. Don’t you dare.”

  She bit her lip. “Now Killie … ”

  “Annot Christine Justice—”

  Ouch. Her full name. He really was peeved.

  “—don’t you dare tell me you’re going to miss your own showing and reception! Not after all I’ve put into this event. Good grief, woman, I’ve practically sweat blood for you, and if you think … ”