Book of Days: A Novel (46 page)

Taylor stopped talking for so long Cameron thought he'd fallen asleep standing upright. When he spoke again, his voice was like smoke in sunlight, and he could barely make out the words.

"The morning after I'd finished it, I had to go somewhere and Annie asked if she could take the car for a drive. Of course I agreed; I'd restored the car for her."

He sat next to Cameron and rubbed his face. "A 1970 Ford station wagon with three high school juniors inside ran a stop sign going like a whirly-wind and T-boned Annie. They say she probably died instantly."

Cameron shook his head.

"Are you all right?"

"Remember me telling you I restored a '65 Mustang and gave it to Jessie for Christmas one year?"

"I do."

"She only drove it once." He breathed deep and imagined he smelled the water, a pure crystal smell with no imperfections. "On the way to the airstrip. On the day she died."

Taylor put his arm around Cameron's shoulder. "Life is funny the way it puts certain people together, isn't it?"

Taylor stood and waded into the river, the water swirling around his waders. He cast in perfect rhythm, nothing moving except for his right arm.

He was a good man, a friend even, but he'd hidden the truth. It was time to confront the lie. It was time to find out exactly what Taylor knew.

"I want to talk to you about why you created a Book of Days."

"I suppose it's time, isn't it?"

"We found the hidden door."

"I thought you might." Taylor continued casting.

"Why go to all the trouble to create that elaborate set of clues and a false book? Why did you do it?"

"I had to. It was the only way to convince anyone searching for a real book that the Book of Days was only an idea." Taylor glanced back at Cameron. "I expected they would follow the clues I'd laid out, find the symbolic book, and prove to themselves the book didn't really exist. It wouldn't be a good thing for most people to find the real book."

He gathered up his rod and smiled at Cameron. "And then you came along out of nowhere, knocking over apple carts every which way, and tracked the thing down. Well done."

Cameron stared at him. "What did you just say?"

"Yes, I did say 'real book.'"

"Are you telling me—?"

"But as smart as you were, you must extend a great deal of credit to Ann, don't you think? I don't believe you would have gotten where you did without her."

"The book is real?"

"She was an interesting twist to the puzzle." Taylor shook his head. "Having a niece show up after all these years is a definite mind bender."

Taylor turned and sloshed out of the river till he reached a boulder the size of a small ottoman and sat on it. "That stone around your neck, can I see it?"

Strange. Someone else asked to see it recently, hadn't they? "Sure." He lifted it from around his neck and handed the stone to Taylor.

Taylor studied it. "I'd lay odds these markings are Native American."

Suddenly the memory of his climb two days before surged into his mind. "Grange!"

The image of Grange studying the stone just as Taylor had filled his head. The questions about why Cameron wanted to go to the place of stories. The directions . . . He'd told Cameron exactly how to find the place. What was it called? Time Stories? The Stories of Time?

"He told me how to find it." His heart beat picked up.

"He must have liked you. And trusted you. He's probably been watching you since you got here." Taylor nodded. "Grange is a good man."

"You know, don't you? You know what they are. The Stories of Time and the Book of Days are the same thing, aren't they?"

"Yes." Taylor handed the stone back to Cameron.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"I'm sorry, Cameron, forgive me. I had no choice."

"We always have a choice."

"What did Grange tell you?"

"He said few are chosen to see the stories."

"True."

"And you were one of the chosen." Cameron tossed a rock into the swirling water.

"Yes, to my eternal regret."

"Do you care to explain that?"

"After I found the book, I used it." Taylor slid his reel down to the river rock at his feet. "I used what I saw."

"You're telling me the Stories of Time truly do tell the future?"

Taylor nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"I wanted to tell you. I did." Taylor rubbed his face and sighed. "I did try to tell you in my own way."

"When?"

"In the park, when I showed you the arrowhead shadow pointing the way to the book. I've wanted you to find it for a while now."

Oh, wow. The memory swished through his mind. That's right. Taylor had tried to show him.

"But I couldn't go any further than that. I swore I wouldn't ever put someone in the position to go through the regret I've lived with for thirty-three years."

"It all comes back to Annie, doesn't it?"

"I found the book when we'd been married for two years. We had the same type of relationship you and Jessie had." Taylor shook his head. "Perfect. Even after we were married, I loved backpacking through the mountains around here by myself for days at a time. A part of me has always been built for solitude.

"One early morning in July over thirty years ago, I explored an area of the mountains I'd never been to. I came to an opening in the rocks and somehow I stumbled through them to the prettiest slice of earth you'll ever find.

"There it was lying out in front of me like a mirror. As I gazed at it I saw the past, saw the present, then I saw the future. A future where my dad would lose his legs in a logging accident the next afternoon.

"Annie was out of town and I couldn't reach her so I came home and told my sister-in-law about what I'd seen and she never doubted me."

"Ann's mom?"

"Yes."

"She told me I had to save my dad. I agreed." Taylor rubbed his face with both hands. "I was supposed to wait for Annie to get home the next afternoon, but I left her a note saying I'd gone to see my dad.

"So I tried to stop the accident. And I did; my dad never lost his legs. People wondered for years how I knew that tree would fall the wrong way. But what I set in motion . . ."

Taylor stopped and swallowed as tears seeped onto his cheeks. "What I did caused Annie's death in the moments after my father lived."

"Because she didn't go to Bend with you."

Taylor nodded.

"So you made a book and created a series of clues—"

"I realized if I could create something that people would have to work to find, I could end it right there. In the case of Jason, it worked. I don't think he'll ever figure out . . . But you, it seems you're one of the chosen."

Cameron didn't know what to believe. Was it real? Was it another part of Taylor's game?

Taylor turned to him. "You didn't tell me your wife asked you to use the stone to find the book."

Cameron frowned at him.

"You're wondering how I knew?" Taylor said. "Grange told me."

Taylor tossed a rock into the river. "Don't you think it's time to come clean?"

"About what?"

"About why you're forgetting pieces of conversations. About why you didn't start your search for the book right after Jessie died. About why you didn't think her story was more than the jumbled thoughts of a dying woman until three weeks ago."

"Because . . ." There was no spin he could put on an answer that would satisfy Taylor.

"Why didn't you remember what Grange told you?"

Cameron watched the river rush around and over the rocks, as if it knew exactly where it wanted to go. Where it needed to go.

"I'm losing my mind. My memories flit in and out of my brain like sparrows. Eight years ago my dad died of the disease, and the last thing he asked me to do was to find the book for him. His dying wish. I thought he was talking nonsense.

"Then two years ago I started noticing my memory wasn't as sharp as it had been. Little things like reading notes I'd just written and reading them as if for the first time. Not remembering if I'd brushed my teeth or not. Telling my partner the same thing three times in one morning.

"Then I started losing memories of Jessie. What we'd done, where we'd gone, important conversations we'd had."

"I'm sorry." Taylor looked at the sky. "Okay, God, I get it."

He turned and stared at Cameron for a long time before nodding twice. "I am going to do something I swore I would never do for the rest of my life."

"Return to the Book of Days?"

"Yes." Taylor massaged the back of his neck. "And take you with me. But I should warn you. You might not like what you see."

CHAPTER 43

I'm taking him to see it." Taylor sat in front of his workbench and stared at a map of the Three Peak wilderness as he spoke into his cell phone.

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Do you feel at peace with that choice?"

"Yes." Taylor paused. "Your counsel helped."

"I'm glad. Is there anything else I can do?"

"I need you to be ready for Jason if he tries to follow us." Taylor ran his finger along the route Cameron and he would take.

"You believe he'll try?"

"I'd be surprised if he didn't. His skills with knives and guns are far greater than mine. And I have little doubt he would kill to possess the book."

"I agree. Do not worry. I will look out for you and Cameron."

"Thanks, Grange."

"Yes, my friend. Yes."

Cameron didn't speak as Taylor drove up the rutted logging road, only a hint of gray dawn painted across the sky toward what he said was the genuine Book of Days.

Cameron hadn't set his alarm the night before. He'd never gone to sleep. He'd considered telling Ann about his conversation with Taylor and his claim that the book was genuine, but what if it wasn't? What if it was another one of Taylor's games? Or nothing more than a beautiful spot in the mountains where Taylor felt God gave him impressions that seemed real?