Kaleidoscope Eyes Page 4

  She knew better than to interrupt one of his rants, so she stood there, waiting. Killian knew how to show any medium to its best advantage and delighted in taking virtual unknowns and introducing them to the art world. No, he did more than introduce them.

  Killian made stars.

  But the very creativity that made him a master in his chosen vocation made him mercurial at best, explosive at worst. Do or say the wrong thing, and Killian proved that he came by that red hair naturally. The man was painfully adept at exhibiting the ugly side of creativity.

  Good thing she knew how to handle him.

  When he finally paused his tirade long enough to draw a breath, Annie broke in. “Killian, calm down. Yes, there’s been a callout. And yes, Kodi and I are going. But I’ll be at Expressions right on time. The showing doesn’t start until three this afternoon, and you know how hot it’s been.”

  Killian’s sniff did his disdain—and his outrage—proud. “Hot? What does the heat have to do with anything?”

  “It’s too hot to work Kodi after eleven. So if we haven’t found the woman by then, I’ll pack Kodi up and head home.”

  There was a moment’s silence. “By eleven? Then you’d be at the gallery by two, which should give us time to prep before the showing. I’ll have Ryan get everything ready so all you need to do is clean up and show up.”

  Oh dear. Sounded as though Killian’s poor assistant was going to bear the brunt of this change in plans.

  “Swear you’ll be on the road back to town no later than eleven?”

  Annie’s lips lifted at the grudging mollification in his tone. “Scout’s honor.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. That might sway me were you ever a Scout. But we both know you weren’t.”

  “Yes, well, and whose fault was that?”

  “Oh, please. Haven’t you guilted me about that for long enough?”

  “Your mother was the Scout leader. You told her I hated the Scouts and only wanted to join, how did you put it, to ‘foment rebellion.’”

  “You’ve got to admit I was precocious as a kid.”

  “Precocious? Is that another word for lying pinhead?”

  Killian’s teasing drifted over the phone lines, easing the tension between Annie’s shoulder blades. “Look, Killie, you know I’ll do my best to be there today—”

  “Do your best?” The amusement vanished from his voice as quickly as it had appeared. “Not good enough. You have to be there, Annie. This is important.”

  Enough was enough. She matched her tone to his. “So is a woman’s life.”

  Silence. Then a weighted sigh. “You’re right, and I’m a worthless pile of humanity.”

  “Well—” Annie allowed a hint of humor to soften her response—“not entirely worthless.”

  “And so I’m condemned with faint praise. Go on, then. You and your beast—”

  “Dog, Killie. Kodi is a dog.”

  “—go and find the poor, lost soul. I’ll send good thoughts your way”

  “Thanks.”

  “And expect to see you no later than 2:00 p.m.”

  Annie eased the receiver back into the cradle. Killian tried to be understanding. He really did. And Ryan helped a lot. He kept reminding Killian that Annie had never missed a deadline or a showing. But Killian had always taken her art more seriously than she did. Even in high school he’d been the one to submit her work for contests and awards, not Annie. When she won every one, he all but glowed with delight. For her. No doubt about it, Killian believed in her and her stained glass art before anyone.

  Even herself.

  He was so certain she belonged in the art world. That art was her home. Annie wanted to believe him, but she knew better. She didn’t fit in the art world. Any more than she fit anyplace else …

  She pushed the thoughts away, going to the closet and pulling out her search and rescue clothes.

  Okay, Annie girl knock it off. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Besides, what have you got to be all morose about?

  It was true. She really did have the best of all worlds. She loved working in stained glass. Killian was spot on about that. And yes, people paid her very good money for what she created. But she was more than an artist.

  Search and rescue was as much a calling as her art.

  And, for the moment, that calling was considerably louder.

  She jerked on her boots and fastened the gators snug. From what Dan had told her, she would be walking through a good deal of brush, so the gators would protect her ankles and calves.

  “Let’s go, Kode.”

  She didn’t have to speak twice. Kodi was out the bedroom door and waiting at the front door, her tail thumping a steady beat on the hardwood floor. Annie grabbed her keys and Kodi’s leash off the hook. The dog watched her every move, ears perked, brown eyes wide and expectant.

  “You ready, girl?”

  Kodi’s excited bark split the night, and Annie opened the front door. “Okay then, let’s go to work.”

  THREE

  “The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am

  the chosen child of God, precious in God’s eyes, called the Beloved from

  all eternity and held safe in an everlasting embrace.”

  HENRI J. M. NOUWEN

  “Even in darkness I cannot hide from you.”

  PSALM 139:12

  SEPTEMBER 8

  3:00 a.m.

  Get to work, Andy! Move it!”

  Jediah Curry pressed a hand into his cameraman’s back. “We’re losin’ ’em!”

  “Are you nuts? I am not following those guys up ther—”

  “Look out!”

  Jed didn’t have time to respond. One minute he was standing there, directing Andy to follow the firefighters up the stairs of the burning two-story home; the next he was grabbed by powerful hands, jerked backward, and dragged from building. The excruciating heat that chased them out the door told him just how close he’d come to being fried.

  He struggled free of what he now realized was a firefighter’s grip, wiped at his still hot face, and stared with stinging eyes into the smoke billowing from the open doorway. “Andy!”

  Dread sliced through Jed’s gut. He’d done it now. He’d really done it. He’d gotten Andy killed! His best friend. And for what? TV ratings?

  Jed passed a hand over his eyes. How was he going to live with thi—?

  “I oughta knock you flat.”

  He spun, and relief so strong it made his knees weak swept through him. Not even the furious glare under the black smudges on Andy’s face tempered Jed’s joy “Oh man!” He threw his arms around his friend.

  “Whoa, you big jerk! Look out for the camera.”

  Jed stepped back. “You’re alive.”

  “No thanks to you.” Andy gave a rasping cough.

  “But how?”

  Andy shrugged. “You said you picked the guys from this station for the show because they’re good. Well, you were right. One minute I’m standing there; next minute a couple guys grab me and haul me out. My feet hardly touched the floor.” He patted the camera on his shoulder. “Good thing I had a solid grip on this baby, or it woulda gone flyin’.”

  “They must have taken you out another door.”

  “No way were we going out the way you did.” His voice grew rough. “I’ve never seen fire like that before.” His gaze narrowed and fixed on Jed. “You know you almost got us both killed.”

  Jed nodded, turning to look at the house. “‘Who’s more foolish: the fool, or the fool who follows him?’”

  “Now?” Andy’s outrage sent his voice up an octave. “You’re quoting Shakespeare now? What did I tell you about that? Huh? No more Shakesp—”

  Jed held out his hands. Most people got a kick out of his propensity for the bard’s words. But Andy? He’d hated it from the minute they met, a few months after Jed hit LA. “Hey, it’s not Shakespeare.”

  Doubt settled on Andy’s brow “Yeah? Then who?”

  “One
of your heroes, ol’ buddy Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not getting around me on this by quoting someone who actually makes sense.”

  Now that was too much. “Shakespeare makes perfect sense—”

  “Nah, man. I’m not getting into this with you. No rabbit trails. We’re gonna talk about this. Right here, right now.” Andy squared off. “What happened just now? It’s exactly what I’ve been saying, Jed. You’re taking way too many risks. The captain told us to stay outside. But no, you gotta get the action shots. Well, we got ’em. I just hope it was worth it.”

  Jed kept nodding, even as he studied the still burning house. The alarm roused the firehouse just after midnight, setting the well-orchestrated team into action. It never ceased to amaze Jed how quick and efficient these men were, even in the face of such pressure. Within fifteen minutes they were on-site, and the battle with the blaze had begun. Now, two hours later, the fire was finally showing signs of surrender.

  The building was an old warehouse, a portion of which had small apartments in it. Smack-dab in the nastiest part of the city, the place had been a pit. Reports circulated that the police had just been there a few days earlier, investigating a possible meth lab. And the people congregating beyond the fire trucks watching the place burn weren’t exactly your high-society brand of folks. In fact, Jed was glad he was on the fire side of the police barricade.

  So yeah, Andy was right. Being here was risky But Jed hadn’t made Everyday Heroes one of the top-rated new shows of the season by playing it safe.

  “I mean, I know you’re about to make it big, Jed. There’s no denying this new series of yours is a hit, and the network execs are taking notice, but it’s a little hard to enjoy success when you’re dead.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jed frowned. What was that?

  “Of course—” Andy’s sarcasm intensified—“knowing you, if we got killed, you’d just have me film our trip to the other side.”

  “Right.” Jed squinted, staring hard at a window on the ground floor. Was that what he thought it was?

  “I, of course, would go to heaven. You, on the other hand, would need some seriously heat-resistant equipment to shoot your little journey beyond.”

  It was!

  “Curry, are you listening to m—”

  Jed spun toward the firefighters working by the truck. He gestured to the window. “Hey, guys! Someone’s still inside!”

  The firefighters jerked to follow Jed’s pointing finger, then jumped into action. Jed grabbed Andy’s arm. “Come on!”

  For a second he thought Andy would refuse, but then years of working together must have kicked in, because he fell into step beside Jed. They ran, feet pounding the ground as they followed the firefighters racing toward the window. As they drew closer, Jed almost did something he’d sworn never to do again.

  Pray.

  Almost, but not quite. Because that part of his life was gone, buried so deep inside him that not even the heat of the fire reaching out to chafe his face could touch it.

  No, prayer would stay where it belonged.

  In his childhood, with the rest of the fairy tales.

  FOUR

  “Don’t waste life in doubts and fears;

  spend yourself on the work before you,

  well assured that the right performance of this hour’s duties

  will be the best preparation for the hours and ages that will follow it”

  RALPH WALDO EMERSON

  “‘Who makes people so they can … see or not see?

  Is it not I, the Lord?

  Now go, and do as I have told you. I will help you … ’”

  EXODUS 4:11-12

  SEPTEMBER 8

  3:30 a.m.

  “You know, once upon a time I had a doggy just like you.”

  “Just like …? For heaven’s sake, Doris, don’t be a nit. Your dog was about as big as that dog’s head, and you know it.”

  Annie glanced over her shoulder to where Doris was lavishing hugs on Kodi, ignoring Aggie’s outrage. She leaned toward her brother. “They almost sound like they don’t like each other.”

  “I wish.”

  Annie started. “You do?”

  Her brother snorted. “Sure. Because then they wouldn’t talk to each other.” He tossed a glance their direction. “No such luck though. Just pretend they’re not there.”

  “Does that work?”

  “Not yet.” Dan’s pained look was almost as comical as the two women. “But I’m willing to work at it till it does.”

  Annie turned back to the map in front of her. She’d reached Sanctuary about ten minutes ago and found Dan ready for her, a topographic map rolled out on his desk. Within minutes he was giving her a quick rundown of the situation, highlighting where the searchers had looked so far.

  Doris piped up again. “I wish I’d brought Half-Pint with us. You two would have had such fun together. Don’t you think so, Aggie?”

  “What I think is that that huge beast would think your silly little Chihuahua was a walking hors d’oeuvre.” Ignoring Doris’s wide eyes at such a horrific thought, Aggie went to peer over Dan’s shoulder. She’d listened to his briefing, adding tidbits here and there and driving Dan to distraction. Now she reached an arm around Dan to point at a spot on the map, then glared at him when he swatted her hand away.

  Annie covered her smile under the guise of a cough. The two women had to be at least in their seventies, maybe older. But something about them, a kind of gleaming mischief in those time-worn eyes, made them seem more like teenagers than senior citizens.

  It was fascinating to Annie that the two shared the same color. A and d both shimmered in happy marigold yellow. A color that fit these ladies to a T.

  The same color as Dan.

  Annie’s eyes widened, and she almost laughed out loud. How had she missed that? No wonder the three of them always seemed to blend together so well.

  Of course, she knew better than to say such a thing to her brother.

  As though sensing Annie’s thoughts, Doris looked at Annie from where she hugged Kodi, and there was no denying the concern in her clear eyes. “Where are you going to look for dear Bertha now?”

  “I wish I knew.” Dan rolled his shoulders, and as he stared down at the map, Annie took in the sag of his shoulders and the stubble on his face. Unless she missed her guess, he hadn’t slept much the last few nights. This kind of situation was stressful on anyone who understood the implications.

  But with most people who were lost, you could count on patterns of behavior, things that helped in formulating a search plan. Most people, when lost, tended to travel in a straight line. If they found any kind of path, they’d stick to it, no matter what. Often they climbed to the top of the closest hill to get a better view—though the trees on top of hills could obstruct any view. Lost people seldom reversed direction on a trail and tended to travel downhill or downstream. But most helpful of all was the fact that lost people seldom moved around randomly. They usually moved with conviction, with a dogged hope that they were heading in the right direction—whether they were or not.

  Then there were the unpredictable victims. Children didn’t have any concept of being lost. They just walked and wandered, their attention caught by whatever they encountered. Fortunately they tired easily and couldn’t roam as far afield as an adult. Older children were a little better. But people like Bertha, who suffered from a mental condition such as Alzheimer’s?

  That could be a searcher’s nightmare.

  It was bad enough that people with dementia didn’t follow any of the usual patterns—in fact, they didn’t follow any pattern period. But an added complication was the fact that so often they were caught in the past, and they might not even know what was happening or where they were. If someone was in fairly good physical shape, she could wander a long way … miles, even.

  A soft hand on her arm drew Annie’s attention from her increasingly depressing thoughts. Doris was beside her, her lip tre
mbling slightly. “You will find her, won’t you?”

  Annie laid her hand over Doris’s thin fingers. “I’ll do my best.”

  Of course, with each passing hour, Bertha’s chances dropped. The odds of finding someone alive were best in the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours. They’d been looking for Bertha for nearly thirty-six hours. But no reason to point that out to Doris. Annie focused on her brother, listening as he indicated areas on the map where she and Kodi could start. She frowned, catching his hand as he pointed at one particular spot.

  His brows drew together. “What?”

  “You’ve come back to this spot at least four times in the few minutes we’ve been standing here.” She tilted her head, studying the coordinates. “That’s actually in the ravine, right?”

  Dan ran his hand through his hair. “Yes. The search teams looked there a number of times, but the trees and brush are so dense. I don’t know … ” He lifted one shoulder. “They did grid searches and were thorough. They always are.”

  That her usually unruffled brother was troubled could not be denied. In fact, his vexation was so pronounced that it moved over Annie, seeping into her, setting her nerves on edge as well. “But?”

  “But something keeps pulling me back there.” He traced a finger across the map. “Maybe if you work the ravine edge, just in case? I don’t know … I just can’t shake the feeling that she’s there somewhere.”

  Annie didn’t argue. She’d learned a long time ago to trust her brother’s hunches. “You got it. We’ll start there.” She started to signal to Kodi to follow her when Dan caught her arm. She turned back to him.

  “About that e-mail you forwarded to me.”

  She’d waited until a few days after he got home from his honeymoon before finally telling him about the e-mails. He had her do two things: send the posts to him and set up a new e-mail address without letting anyone else know about it. He’d monitored her old account so he could deal with anything that looked suspicious.