Kaleidoscope Eyes (21 page)

Silence fell between them for a moment, and they stood there, staring at each other.

The laughter started with Annie. It was just a ripple at first, a giggle triggered by her frayed nerves and the images that flitted through her mind as she pictured what they must have looked like as they hotfooted it over the bridge, poor protective Kodi in tow. When Jed’s deep chuckle chimed in, the ripple expanded into full-blown laughter.

They leaned against Annie’s Jeep, laughing until they were weak. Kodi paced back and forth between them, and the worry puckering her black brow—probably that her mistress had gone right ’round the bend—just made Annie laugh even harder.

When she could finally breathe again, Annie laid a hand on Jed’s arm. “Thanks, Jed. I needed that.”

Gold lights twinkled in those laughing brown eyes. “You needed someone practically hauling you off your feet and dragging you and your dog across a bridge?”

Annie giggled again. “Well, that too. But no, the laugh. I needed the laugh.”

“Yeah.” Jed leaned his head against the Jeep. “So did I.” He stared at the sky then closed his eyes. “It’s been a tough couple weeks.”

The rough emotion in those simple words tugged at her heart, and before she could stop herself, she put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at her, and it was as though a cloud drifted across his features. Something was troubling him, and Annie wanted to help. More than she’d ever wanted to help anyone before.

“Jed, what can I do?”

Raw emotion flickered in the depth of his eyes, and his jaw tensed.

She’d offended him. Or upset him. Oh, why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shu—

He stilled her inner recriminations when he took her hand in his. “‘Lady you bereft me of all words.’”

The ragged edge to those soft words tore at her, confusing her even more. Who was this man? And what was going on inside him?

He squeezed her hand, then released her, but the warmth of his smile echoed in his voice. “Thanks, Annie. This was great. Really I mean, I know you don’t know me from Adam, but I enjoyed spending time with you and Kodi.”

She didn’t even try to hide her agreement. “Me too.” She tipped her head. “I mean, I enjoyed spending time with you.”

He straightened, his expression sobering. “So, what do you say we don’t let it end here?”

“I’d like that.”

They shared a smile. “Great. How about coffee?” Hesitation puckered his brow. “You do drink coffee, don’t you?”

“More like mainline it.”

“Perfect. So how about we meet for coffee tomorrow? You name the place and time.”

“Melello’s. Behind Costco. Twelve-thirty”

Approval shone in his eyes at her ready reply “It’s a date.”

She unlocked the Jeep, letting Kodi jump in and settle down. Jed held the driver’s door open for her, waiting as she buckled her seat belt and lowered the window before closing the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Amazing what a wonderful word that was. Annie hadn’t ever realized it before.

She started the Jeep, backed out of the parking spot, and waved out the window as she pulled onto the street. As she turned the corner on the main drag, she took one last look in the
rearview mirror—and felt her heart jump.

Jed stood there, hands in his pockets, watching her. And even from this distance she could tell that his face bore a broad, goofy grin.

The very same grin peeking back from her reflection.

“I gotta admit it, you’re one smooth dude.”

Jed swiveled. “Andy! What the
heck
did you think you were doing back there?”

He held his hands up. “Hey, it’s not my fault. If I’d known you were going to play Mr. Frisbee Coach for an hour, I would have snuck out and gone back to the car. But I had no idea how long you’d be or if it was safe to come out, so I stayed there. And you know how late we got in last night. And how early we got up … ”

Jed eyed him. “You fell asleep.”

“I fell asleep.” Andy hunched his shoulders. “So when you hollered like that, it scared the bo-diddly outta me. I jumped up so fast I got dizzy, but I knew you guys were comin’ so I tried to get outta sight.”

Jed fished in his pocket for the car keys. “And stumbled right in front of us.”

“What can I say. I’m a master of timing.” He gazed after Annie’s Jeep. “So you’re meeting her again tomorrow, eh?”

Jed wasn’t so sure he liked Andy’s tone. Like he thought Jed was doing something wrong. “Yeah. I’m meeting her. That’s the plan, remember?” He punched the remote, unlocking the car doors.

“So we’re still working the plan?” Andy pulled the door open and slid inside the car.

Jed followed suit, glancing at his friend sideways as he started the engine. “What else would we be doing?”

Andy rested an elbow on the glass of the passenger side window. “I dunno, man. You just seemed kind of … involved out there. I mean, if you coulda seen the look on your face when you watched that woman drive away.”

“It was an act.”

Doubt lifted Andy’s brows. “Pretty convincing act.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it? To be convincing? To get her trust so I can convince her to do the show?”

Andy propped his feet on the dashboard. “Whatever it takes, huh?”

Jed clenched his teeth. “That’s right.”

“No matter who it hurts.”

He shoved the car into gear. “Nobody’s gonna get hurt, Andy”

“Uh-huh.” He slumped down in the seat, closing his eyes. “I’ll bet you even tell yourself you believe that.”

“I
do
believe it.”

Though slow in coming, Andy’s reply was succinct. “And that, my friend, is the most disturbing fact of all.”

TWENTY        

O
CTOBER
6—A-D
AFFODIL
D
AY
(Y
ELLOW
)

He should be asleep. Why wasn’t he asleep?

The grating sound of a buzz saw with a sinus infection reverberated through the room, and Jed cast a baleful glance at Andy’s sleeping form. The fact that he’d forgotten to buy earplugs didn’t help. But if he was fair—which he really didn’t feel like being at this point—he’d have to admit that Andy’s snoring wasn’t the problem.

Jed rubbed his gritty eyes, then went back to the vigil he’d been keeping for the last four nights: staring out the hotel window at the darkness, the weight of exhaustion pressing him down, totally—infuriatingly—wide awake.

He lay his head back and closed his eyes. Willed himself to fall asleep. Instead, images and sounds filled his head. As if a miniscule movie projector were tucked at the back of his cerebellum, a scene jumped to life on the screen of his closed eyes. The same scene he’d been seeing for weeks.

Fire. The house. Ken’s triumphant smile. Never
lets me down …

Jed pushed himself out of the chair, going to the bathroom sink. He turned the faucet and scooped water over his face, letting the cold slap him, shocking the last remnants of the images from his mind.

He had to get a grip. So what happened was bad. Fine. It was over and done with. It wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just was.

All he had to do was convince himself of that.

Yeah. Right.

Wiping an arm over his dripping face, he made his way back to his bed. Sitting on the edge, he leaned down, reaching under the bed and pulling out the book he’d slid there the first night they arrived.

Ken’s Bible.

With those words
“Don’t let Kenny down”
embedded deep in his soul, Jed hadn’t been able to leave the Bible anywhere. He’d thought about it. A lot. Maybe he’d give it to someone who’d actually read it.

But every time he considered the options, the conclusion was the same. Ken gave him the Bible.

So though he’d held true to his word and hadn’t cracked the cover again, Jed carried it with him wherever he went. Of course, he was careful to keep it out of sight.

Last thing he needed was Andy seeing him with this thing. Jed squinted through the darkness, making sure his friend was still asleep. Even if he hadn’t been able to see the rise and fall of Andy’s breathing, the buzz saw would have been evidence enough.

The guy was dead to the world.

Envy slithered through Jed, and he pushed it aside. He’d be able to sleep again soon. Shoot, a few more nights like this, and he’d flat pass out. That’d get him a little rest.

He looked down at the book in his hands. The feel of it was so familiar. When he was a kid, how many nights had he spent poring over these pages, reading, pleading, seeking the magic
words that would make his world right again?

But there were no such words. And when Jed had finally accepted that, he thought the disappointment would kill him.

He slid the book back under the bed, then sat there, staring at the floor. And he knew. The time had come. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

He stood, tempted to launch the last of his pillows at Andy’s head. Jed had spent half the night throwing pillows at Andy, trying to get him to turn over. They lay scattered, some on top of Andy, some on the bed, some on the floor. They’d done the job for a short while, but the rat always ended up back where he started: on his back, mouth hanging open, doing his level best to shake the plaster from the walls.

Nah, no more pillow bombs. He’d let Andy sleep.

Better that than having to answer his questions when he saw Jed leaving without him. But no way was he taking Andy along.

No, this part of the trip he had to do alone.

A quick shower later, he was on his way out the door, jacket in hand, when Andy’s croaky voice stopped him. “Where you sneakin’ off to?”

Jed leaned his forehead against the door. He’d almost made it. “Out.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” Andy pushed himself to a sitting position. “Out where?”

“Just … out.” He looked over his shoulder. “There’s something I have to do.”

Andy studied him, curiosity—and just a tinge of suspicion—in his features. Then he shrugged. “Okay Whatever. I’m gonna go get some breakfast. Guess I’ll meet you back here.”

Relief infused Jed’s tone. “I’ll see you in an hour. No more.” It better not be more. He wasn’t even sure he could stand an hour.

He pulled the door open, but Andy’s voice halted him again.

“Jed?”

He glanced back.

“Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Too late.

He stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him.

Why do I do this to myself?

Jed leaned his arms on the steering wheel of the rental car, staring straight ahead. He didn’t need to look at the house beside his car. He knew it—the layout, the colors of the walls, every stick of furniture, the location of every door, every creaking board and cracked window. If he closed his eyes, he could picture her there, smell the eggs and bacon as she cooked breakfast, hear her hummin—

“So are you going to just keep sitting out here sulking, or are you going to come inside?”

He spun to the passenger side window and broke into a huge grin. “Mom!” In a flash, Jed was out of the car and had her wrapped in his arms, hugging her close.

“You’re squashing me, dear. Dear? Dear!”

Laughing, he set her free, and she swatted his arm as she stepped back. “I couldn’t quite believe my eyes when I looked out the front window and saw you sitting there. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to town, you horrid boy? And how long can you stay?”

He draped an arm around her shoulders as they walked toward the house. “It was a last-minute decision. As for how long, I don’t know. Another week, maybe.”

It better not take much longer than that. He was running out of time.

His mother pulled the front door open, and Jed tensed. “Don’t worry, dear. Amos is at work.”

Well, he’d set a new record. It had only taken him five minutes to be a jerk this time. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She waved his apology away. “Never mind. I’m just happy to see you. It’s been too long.” She linked her arm in his and led him to the living room. At least … he thought it was the living room.

“Wow.” He looked around, taking it all in. “You’ve remodeled.”

That was an understatement. What used to be a small living room adjacent to an equal sized dining room was now one spacious, open room. The back wall was no longer a wall, but more of a frame for huge plate glass windows looking out on—

“Is that a deck?” He turned to his mother. “Since when do we have a deck?”

His mom laughed. “Since last year, which you’d know if you came around more often. Amos and I decided it was time to make some changes.” She sank onto the stylish new couch and patted the cushion beside her. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah—” he nodded as he sat beside her—“I do. It fits you better.”

Pleasure suffused her smile. “Change can be a good thing.”