Kaleidoscope Eyes (5 page)

When she chose the eighth, he fingered the date on the page. “Why that one in particular?”

“It’s an auburn green day.”

“An auburn green day … ” Killian took a green marker from his desk drawer and circled the date. “That’s good. Green Auburn is rich and alive, earthy. A good day for creativity.”

“Exactly.”

Killian snapped the cap back on the marker. “Perfect choice.”

Too bad he wasn’t as enthusiastic about her involvement with search and rescue.

He’d never liked the idea of her spending time away from her art. When she and Kodi earned a reputation for finding people when
others couldn’t and the demand for them increased, Killian hadn’t said a word. He didn’t need to. Annie could tell he didn’t like it.

Not even a little.

But it wasn’t until her stained glass art started gaining notice that Killian actually suggested she give up search and rescue. The first time he did, Annie just patted her flamboyant friend on the head.

“Don’t be silly, Killie.”

“Oh. Fine. Now you think you’re a poet.”

The last few months, though, any good humor on his part had faded. He’d brought it up again just a few days ago. “Annie, please, this search and rescue thing is too disruptive. You never know when you’re going to get one of those call ups—”

“Callout, Killie. You get called up in the military”

“Whatever. And they’re almost always in the middle of the night.”

“Because people don’t call for help until they’ve spent hours trying to find the lost person themselves. Then it gets dark and they get scared.”

Killian brushed imaginary lint from his sleeve. Like lint would
dare
land on his immaculate clothing. Killian was as
GQ
as it got—stylish to a fault. Always had been.

“All I know,” he went on, “is that it’s time away from your art. And that’s not good for you.”

“It’s about balance, Killian. Not one involvement taking over another.”

Unfortunately, Killian and balance weren’t terribly well acquainted. Which made her that much more hesitant to risk upsetting him. After all, this showing was featuring her art. He’d expect her to be there.

On time.

Ah well … no point putting off the inevitable. She lifted the phone, punched in the number, and listened as the phone rang once, twice—

“Good morning.”

Annie smiled. Leave it to Killian to sound wide-awake at
almost two-thirty in the morning. “Killie, it’s Annie.”

“No. Don’t you dare.”

She bit her lip. “Now Killie … ”

“Annot Christine Justice—”

Ouch. Her full name. He really was peeved.

“—don’t you
dare
tell me you’re going to miss your own showing and reception! Not after all I’ve put into this event. Good grief, woman, I’ve practically sweat blood for you, and if you think … ”

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        

S
EPTEMBER
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!”