Kaleidoscope Eyes (3 page)

“Annie.”

“I
have
tried it.” She lowered a hand to scratch Kodi’s head. “Remember Frank?”

Kyla had the grace to bite her lip. “That really was a disaster, wasn’t it?”

“How you could ever think I’d be interested in a man like that?”

“Frank is a nice man.”

“He hates animals.” ’Nuff said. But Annie went on anyway
“Especially
big dogs.”

“But I didn’t know tha—”

“And then there was Bruce. I believe he was another one of your setups.”

“What on earth was wrong with Bruce? He loved animals—”

“Sure, if their heads were mounted on the wall of his den. Besides which, he had no sense of humor, was barely an inch taller than I am, and was just this side of bald—unless you count that oh-so-manly comb-over.” Annie held her hand out to her sister. “Would you care to bless this feast, or shall I?”

Kyla took Annie’s hand and closed her eyes. “Father, thank You for the blessing of food and shelter and for the blessing of
family: Let our time together please You.”

“Ame—”

“And show Annot she’s being far too picky about men. Amen.”

Annie’s glare went unnoticed as Kyla focused on stirring the perfect amount of cream into her coffee.

“You know I only hound you because I care about you, Annot.”

“I know.”

“I look at you and see someone with so much love to share, so much talent and passion … ”

Annie set her fork down. “You know what I see when I look at me? A warm marigold. Know what I see when I look at you? A rich rose. And Dan?”

Kyla leaned back in her chair. “Marigold.” She sighed. “I’m your sister. Heavens, I helped you plant your garden with flowers and plants that have your colors. I know about your condition.”

“You know about it, but you don’t really understand it. You don’t understand what it’s like to see shadows of a person’s color when you look at or think of him. That even though I’m not always conscious of it, I see pink whenever I look at you.”

“Well … ” Kyla cupped her hands around her coffee mug. “No, I guess not.”

“Don’t you see? That’s the point. I’m different.” Annie looked down at the food that had seemed so mouthwatering moments ago.

“Just because you have synesthesia … ”

“No. That’s only part of it.” Annie crossed her arms, hugging herself. “Yes, I have synesthesia. Yes, I perceive things others don’t—”

Kyla rested her chin in her hand as she chewed. “Colors in numbers and letters. I’d really like to see that.”

“Don’t be so sure. It’s not always fun, Kylie. Remember grade school, when the teachers thought I was just this side of crazy because I told them I didn’t like the number one?”

Kyla’s lips twitched. “Oh, right. It was too arrogant.”

“A total snot, to be exact. Thinking it was all that just because it’s first—” Annie caught herself, then offered a sheepish grin.
“Okay, so I still don’t like the number one much. And therein lies my problem. I see things others don’t.
I feel
things others don’t. And it’s not just the synesthesia. I’m thirty-six and I still cry when I see an animal dead on the side of the road.”

“A tender heart isn’t a bad thing.”

“Maybe not, but people think you’re weird when you see a squashed cat or raccoon—”

“Or possum. Or squirrel. Oh, and there was that snake once.” Kyla’s brows drew together. “At least I think it was a snake. I couldn’t really be sure.”

“—and the tears start flowing.”

Her sister speared a mouthful of cake. “I still can’t believe you cry over possums.”

“See?”
Annie waved her fork in the air. “You’re my sister and even you think I’m odd.”

Kyla caught Annie’s wrist and lowered the fork back to the plate. “Well, of course I do. It’s in my contract as big sister.”

“Be serious.”

“You think I’m not?”

“And then there’s my art. And my search and rescue work with Kodi—I mean, it’s like I live in two totally different worlds, and yet I need them both. How schizo is that?”

Kyla laid her hand on Annie’s arm. “It isn’t. Annot, you do both because you excel at both. You’re a wonderful artist, and you’ve helped so many people through search and rescue. It would be a loss, for you and for others, if you quit either.”

Annie swallowed hard and her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “I know that. But sometimes … I wish I could just settle into one world and stay there. Belong.” She brushed at her eyes. “There has to be someplace I fit in, Kylie.” She looked away, staring at nothing, fighting the longing that snaked through her, coiling around her heart, squeezing …

“You belong with us, Annot. With me and Dan. Our family.”

Annie lifted her coffee, let the hot liquid sear her tongue and
throat as she took a gulp. Kyla believed what she was saying, but the sad truth was that Annie didn’t fit there either. Not really Dan and Kyla thrived on being in crowds; Annie found more than two or three people suffocating. She far preferred the company of animals and silence. Kyla and Dan were so organized, so logical and in control. Annie? All her life she’d been called the flighty one. Miss Emotional.

“This is my sister,” Dan loved to say about her. “The woman who’s never met an emotion she didn’t express.”

Her siblings loved her. Annie knew that. But understand her? Hardly. And if her own family didn’t, what made Annie believe some stranger out there would be able to? In all her life she’d found only one person who seemed to get her. And though she loved him, he wasn’t… well, “the one.”

Oh, grow up, Annie! There is no knight in shining armor. And even if there was, he’s not going to ride up and sweep you off your feet.

“He’s out there, Annie.”

She almost choked on her coffee. “What? Who is?”

“The right man for you.”

Annie set her mug down. Was her sister reading her mind?

“He’s out there. I know it. I feel it, deep inside.”

What was this? Miss Practical getting sentimental? Annie couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Kyla get emotional.

Oh. Yes, she could. When they stood beside their brother as first his wife, then his two children, were buried.

But since then? Not even close. Kyla was as stoic as a woman could be. But there she sat, eyes actually glistening with unshed tears as she patted Annie’s arm. “When the time is right, God will bring him to you. You just can’t give up.”

“I. won’t.”

Annie squeezed her sister’s hand, asking God to forgive her for the lie. Because what she hadn’t told Kyla—couldn’t bring herself to admit out loud—was that she’d already done so.

A long, long time ago.

By the time Annie got back to her computer, she was so tired her eyes would hardly stay open. Good thing she only had one more e-mail to check. She just couldn’t decide whether to open it. It seemed to be from her nephew, but it wasn’t Jayce’s usual address.

It was probably nothing. Jayce was forever opening new accounts. No reason to think it was another …

She shook her head. Enough. The more she thought about it, the more tense she became. She steadied her fingers on the mouse and clicked.
Just open the stupid thing and be done with it—

Shock. Dread. Revulsion.

They coursed through Annie as she read the ugly block letters in the post. The message was short and anything but sweet:

Shivers tripped along Annie’s skin as she studied the words.

Not again.

She’d received two others like it last week. But something about this e-mail stood out. This time there was a picture.

Of her and Kodi.

That fact alone was disturbing enough, but there was something more. Something that made Annie’s stomach clench.

A big red X slashed across the picture.

Annie’s fingers trembled as she slid the cursor to
Delete.
One click, and it would be gone. Just one click …

She let go of the mouse and pushed her chair back. As though sensing her mistress’s alarm, Kodi stood from where she was lying next to the desk and used her long snout to nudge Annie’s hand onto her head.

Annie scratched her worried dog’s ears. “It’s okay, girl.”

Pity she didn’t sound too convincing, even to her own ears. She stood and paced to the window, peering out at the street, studying the parked cars. But she couldn’t tell if anyone was inside them.

“Knock it off, Annie!” She grabbed the cord to the blind and jerked on it; the blind dropped like a guillotine, blocking the window. “Nobody’s out there. You’re being paranoid.”

Yeah, well just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean someone’s not out to get me.

Kodi’s whine cut through the silence, and Annie settled back into her chair, leaning over to bury her face in the shepherd’s soft black fur.

Okay, fine. The e-mails gave her the creepy crawlies. Who on earth would send such things to her?

A
crazy person.

Well … yes. But where did said crazy get her private e-mail address?
AJnK
, for Annie Justice and Kodi. She reserved that e-mail address for her family and closest friends. They knew better than to share it with anyone, which meant this address never got spammed.

Which was why although she hadn’t recognized the return address on the first e-mail—
[email protected]
—she’d opened it without a second thought. She figured her brother had gotten a new e-mail address and was letting her know about it.

The second the large, bold letters had appeared on her screen, she knew she’d figured wrong. That message had been equally short—and equally chilling.

Her brother would never send something like that, not even as a joke. She had configured her account to block the person’s address, then deleted the e-mail, figuring it was a tasteless prank from someone who had too much time on his hands. Nothing to worry about.

Then the second e-mail showed up.

This one was from
[email protected]
. Again, not an address she recognized, but she only hesitated for a moment. No stranger could know that
Kylie
was her nickname for her older sister. It had to be okay.

Wrong again.

Annie considered forwarding it to her brother. After all, one of the perks of having a sheriffs deputy for a brother was that he was there when things got weird.

Or frightening.

But she didn’t want to get him all worked up just because of some anonymous twit. Better to just save it and then wait to see if any more messages showed up.

Well, apparently the old saying is true: Third time’s a charm.

When she’d opened her e-mail account a few minutes ago, she saw the suspect message right away At the sight of Jayce’s misspelled name in the address, an increasingly familiar dread skittered through her. She grabbed the mouse. She’d just forward the message to Dan with an explanation. Let him deal with it …

Yeah, nice welcome-home-from-your-honeymoon gift.

Right. Well, then, she’d just keep it in her mailbox and talk with him when he got home. That decided, she peered at the picture again. It looked like the one the local paper had used for an article on search and rescue several years ago. Anyone could have found that, made the
X
with a marker, then scanned it in.

But why? Why would someone want to do this?

It’s Dan’s job to figure that out. Just leave it alone until you talk with him.

Good idea. She clicked the
close
button, then just about jumped out of her skin when a hard rap sounded at her door.

“Annot! Turn off that stupid computer, and go to bed.”

Annie gritted her teeth and powered down her computer. She loved her siblings. She really did. But as she slipped the laptop into its case, she thought she’d had about all the sisterly mothering she could take.

And then some.

TWO        

S
EPTEMBER
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.”