The Third Eye (19 page)

He opened the door and got out of the car, and Karen, too upset to acknowledge the apology, got out also and followed him in silence into the restaurant. Once they were seated opposite each other in a booth, however, there was no place to look except straight into his face. The worry and exhaustion she saw reflected there extinguished her anger as quickly as his words had ignited it.

“I really did try,” she said.

“I know. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I know you can’t control it. I can see now why the chief took me off this case. It’s too close, too personal. I can’t be objective and keep my cool; not when one of the missing kids is Steve and Susie’s.”

“I thought you resented your brother,” Karen said. “Isn’t he the family favorite, the one with the ‘golden touch’?”

“Did I tell you that?” Rob regarded her incredulously. Then he gave a short, mirthless laugh. “I can’t believe I actually said that. It’s something I haven’t wanted to admit even to myself.”

“It’s true, though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s true enough. There have been times when I’ve resented Steve so much that I’ve come close to hating him. Steve’s the reason I joined the police force.”

“What do you mean?” Karen asked. “Did you always want to be a police officer?”

“Nope, never. I planned on being a lawyer. My dad’s an attorney who specializes in criminal law, and ever since I was a kid I’ve wanted to be just like him. That was the one area where I felt I could one-up Steve; I knew what I was going to do with my life, and he didn’t. Steve had so many talents, he didn’t know what to do with them all. One day he was going to be a surgeon; the next, an engineer; the next, an astronaut. There was never any doubt that he’d make it big at anything he went into. He got straight As in high school—the star of the football team—student body president. He had all the qualifications for anything.”

“And he decided on law?”

“Bang! Out of the blue, without even thinking about it. That’s how it seemed, anyway. We were both in college; Steve was a senior and I was a sophomore. Steve was majoring in political science or something. Whatever it was, he had a 4.0 GPA. The family was sitting at dinner one night, and suddenly Steve announced to us that he’d registered to take the exam for law school.”

“How did your parents react?” Karen asked.

“Dad lit up like the sun. He got so excited he couldn’t even eat. He told Steve he’d always prayed that might happen, that his older boy would want to follow in his footsteps. He started talking right then about an eventual partnership. There wasn’t a question in anybody’s mind, of course, that Steve would get accepted anywhere he applied. It was just a matter of where he wanted to go.”

“And he decided on the state university?”

“That’s where his girlfriend was going. He could probably have gotten a scholarship to one of the big East Coast colleges if he’d wanted one, but he and Susie were pretty tight by then. They were even talking about getting married. He didn’t want to leave her. So Steve entered law school at the University of New Mexico, and I dropped out and entered the Police Academy.”

“But… why?” Karen asked in bewilderment. “If you’d always wanted to be a lawyer, why should Steve becoming one make any difference?”

“You don’t know my brother, or you wouldn’t ask that. I’ve spent my whole life trailing behind him like a second-class also-ran. I knew how he’d do in law school; he’d graduate first in class. And in practice, he’d be a second Clarence Darrow. And in Dad’s law firm.”

“But why should that affect
you
? I mean, so Steve’s brilliant, so he shines at whatever he sets out to do—
so what
? Why should that matter if you really want—?”

She broke off her sentence as a plump, dark-haired waitress came bustling over to the table.

“How are you this evening?” she asked, flipping open her order pad. “Do you know what you want, or would you like to see a menu?”

“A hamburger and fries, please,” Rob said.

“That’s fine with me, too.” Karen glanced around the room. “Which way is the ladies’ room?”

“In the back, next to the postcard rack,” the waitress told her. “Would you like something to drink?”

“A Coke,” Rob said, and Karen nodded in agreement. He turned to her. “Are you going to call your parents?”

“I have to,” said Karen. “In the note I left, I said I’d call them tonight.”

“What else did you say?”

“That I was going with you to search for the children. Then I turned off my cell phone. Knowing Mom, she probably has the police out looking for me by this time.”

“You’re
with
the police,” Rob reminded her.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. It’s hard to think of you that way when you’re not in uniform. I don’t want to make this call. My mother is going to be so mad.”

“Tell her to relax,” Rob said. “The adventure’s over. We’ll be heading back home as soon as we’re done eating.”

Karen slid out of the booth and went to the front of the room. After using the restroom, she opened her cell, turned it on, and punched in the house number.

Her mother must have been waiting next to the telephone, for the receiver was snatched up before the second ring.

“Karen?” Mrs. Connors said sharply, without hesitation. “Where are you? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Karen told her. “We’re in Colorado.”

“How could you have done this?” her mother demanded. “How could you have run off this way the moment my back
was turned? Your father and I have been out of our minds with worry. Especially when you didn’t answer your cell phone.”

“You shouldn’t have been worried,” Karen said. “I left you a note.”

“A note that told us nothing, not where you were going, or why, or what you were planning to do when you got there. Where in Colorado are you?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Karen said. “We’re out on the highway somewhere. I think we’re short of Colorado Springs by a hundred miles or so. It doesn’t really matter, Mom, because we’re coming right back. This was a wild-goose chase.”

“How could you
do
this?” her mother asked again accusingly. “We had our plans all made. You were in full agreement. You knew I was picking up our tickets and that we were going to leave this afternoon.”

“I did know, and I
was
in agreement, but then Rob called. Anne Summers’s doctor won’t let her take part in the investigation. Rob asked if I’d ride north with him on the interstate the way the kidnappers might have gone. He thought maybe I’d sense something about the missing children.”

“And of course you told him ‘yes,’ ” her mother said. “Just the way you told him ‘yes’ the last time he wanted you to go somewhere with him. What will it take, Karen, for you to start learning from your mistakes? We discussed it all this morning, the problems and the dangers. Do you want to end up like Mrs. Summers?”

“That won’t happen,” Karen assured her. “I told you,
Mom, we’re coming back tonight. You and I can fly to San Francisco tomorrow. What difference does one day make?”

“You really will go? You’re not going to back out?”

“We’ll go tomorrow, I promise.”

“And you’re leaving to drive back now? That means it will be morning before you get here. You’re going to be exhausted.”

“I’ll sleep in the car,” Karen said.

“Make that young man drive carefully,” her mother said. “A police officer can have an accident just as easily as anyone else, especially driving at night on mountain roads.”

“I’ll tell him to be careful,” Karen said. “Please, Mom, you and Dad stop worrying. Pretend it’s prom night and I’m going to be out till dawn. Go to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

To eliminate further controversy, she turned off her phone. Glancing over at the booth, she saw that the food had arrived and Rob had already begun to spread mustard onto his hamburger. As she turned to head back to the table, her shoulder bumped against the postcard rack, and a shower of cards came tumbling out.

“Oh, perfect!” Karen muttered irritably.

She bent to pick up the cards and then stopped suddenly, her right hand suspended six inches above the topmost one. For an unbelieving moment she stood there, frozen. On the floor at her feet, there lay a picture of rose-colored rock formations. In the background, there towered a snowcapped mountain.

Drawing a shaky breath, Karen forced herself to move again. Hastily, she gathered up the other cards and stuffed them back into the rack.

The card that pictured the scene from her vision she carried over to the table.

“Here,” she said quietly, placing it next to Rob’s plate. “That’s the place.”

Rob set down the mustard jar and stared at the photograph.

“I don’t believe it!” Slowly, he reached for the postcard, lifting it carefully by its edges as though he were afraid that the image might smear with the touch of his fingers. “Pink rocks, just like you said. Anne’s mountain. Of course there would be snow on the top—it’s Pikes Peak.”

“And the rocks? Do you know what they are?”

“There’s sure to be something here to tell us.” He turned the card over and read from the print at the top left corner. “ ‘The Garden of the Gods is a part of the city park system in Colorado Springs. It’s noted for its strange rock formations of vivid red sandstone.’ ”

“Colorado Springs!” Karen regarded him breathlessly. “Can we go there now?”

“We’ll get back on the road as soon as we’ve eaten.”

“I’m too excited to eat,” Karen protested. “I want to get started.”

“So do I,” Rob said, “but we’re going to have to get some food down. You may not feel hungry, but you’re going to need
energy. Once the driving is over, my job is done. You’re the one who’s going to have to find the kids.”

“What if I can’t?” Karen asked nervously. “This afternoon, I didn’t sense anything, even the fact that we were on the right road. What if I’ve lost the ability, or the talent, or whatever it is? What if it never works again?”

“You haven’t lost it,” Rob said with certainty. “You aren’t practiced yet in controlling it, that’s all. As soon as we’re back in the car and out on the road again, it’s going to come back to you.”

“You sound so sure.” Karen longed to believe him.

“I believe in omens. Your finding this picture was a good one.”

It was the first time since she had met him that Karen could remember seeing him smile.

By the time they had paid for their meal and left the restaurant, twilight had faded into darkness. The cloudless sky arched high above them, pinpricked by stars and slashed by a sharp, pale sliver of moon.

When they pulled out onto the highway, Karen knew immediately that Rob had been right. She had not lost the power; it was still there inside her. She could feel its pressure at her temples and behind her eyes. Her head was beginning to throb in a manner that could have been the introduction to a headache, but was, in fact, something quite different. There was no pain involved, only a feeling of increasing tension, and
when she closed her eyes, the insides of her lids seemed ready for illumination.

She kept her eyes closed and her mind standing open. Rob rolled down the window beside him, and the sweet night air whipped through the car and filled it with the rich pine breath of mountain summer. Karen’s heart was pounding in rhythm with the car wheels as they drummed the road, and out past the windows she could feel the trees rushing by, and the hills and streams and mountains, and beyond those, houses and people, and the twinkling lights of towns and a distant city.

Time slid past, unpunctuated by conversation. Up ahead of them, the reality of the sandstone rocks loomed larger. Karen’s sense of their existence was growing stronger with each passing mile. Now that she had seen them in a photograph, she did not require a vision to be able to picture them towering high and jagged over a valley of coarse, pink sand.

But the children.
Where were the babies?
They had been there once; of that she was certain. She did not sense them now, though, and she could not call up their images. No matter how hard she tried to force it open, the third eye remained tightly and stubbornly sealed. Rob was slowing the car, evidently planning to stop there.

“Rob?” The sound of her voice was jarring after the long silence. “The kids aren’t here, Rob. This isn’t where they took them.”

“You must have been dozing,” Rob said as though he hadn’t heard her statement. “We’re into the park now.” He pulled the
car off the road and brought it to a stop, though he left the engine running. “You can’t see the rocks, but they’re here, they’re all around us. This
has
to be the place, Karen. The description fits too perfectly for it not to be.”

“It
is
the place in my vision,” Karen agreed. “They did drive through here with the children. They stopped close to this very spot, and the man got out. The woman slid over into the driver’s seat.” For one shining moment she almost thought she had it; though jerky and out of focus, the picture was materializing.

“This is where they changed drivers. The man was angry about the noise the kids were making. He told the woman to do something about it, and she shook her head and told him—”

Abruptly, Karen fell silent.

“She told him what?” Rob prodded.

“It’s gone,” Karen said. “I’ve lost it.” To her disgust, she found herself blinking back tears.

“You’re tired,” Rob said gently. “You’ll get a hold on it in the morning. The thing to do now is to try to get some sleep.”

“Here?” Karen asked. “Do you mean in the car?”

“We’re in a state park,” Rob reminded her. “This is a designated camping area. I’ve got sleeping bags in the trunk. My friend Chris and I do a lot of impulse camping in the summer.”

He shut off the ignition and got out of the car. Karen heard the sound of the trunk being opened and slammed shut again. Then Rob came around to the passenger’s side and opened the door.

“The sky’s clear,” he said. “I don’t think we’ll have any problem. We’ll start driving again in the morning when we’re fresher.”

Too worn out to argue, even if she had wanted to, Karen got out of the car and fell into step behind him. When they had walked a short distance, Rob stopped and laid out the sleeping bags.