Kaleidoscope Eyes (9 page)

“Hang on a minute, girl.”

Kodi turned those soft brown eyes up to her. Was anything more soulful than a German shepherd’s gaze? Annie knelt, draped an arm around that powerful neck, closed her eyes.

Breathed in the fragrance of the woods, the heady scent of dirt and pine.

Be still.

Listened to the whisper of life around them. The chorus of chirruping insects. The song of birds greeting the day …

Be still

Kodi leaned against Annie, resting her chin on her mistress’s shoulder. Annie stroked the dog’s long ears.
Help us, Lord. Help us to see …

A breeze kicked up, brushing Annie’s face and lifting her hair with invisible fingers. A tremor shuddered down her spine, but not because of the breeze. Annie opened her eyes.

The sun was coming up.

Rays of light slipped through the clouds, spilling onto the trees, the bushes, the grasses. Colors and light shifted, blended, reflecting all around them like diamonds in the dew. All around them … except …

There.

About twenty feet away, near the bottom of the ravine. Something about the grass, the bushes, was different.

Annie’s heart tripped and she stood, walking with slow, careful steps, keeping her eyes on the subtle difference in sheen. When she reached the spot, she knelt and studied it more closely.

Yes. Someone had walked here. And not that long ago. The grass was bent, pressed down. Dew was wiped away from a section of branches on the bush, as though someone had brushed against it as she hurried past.

Annie glanced at Kodi. The dog had straightened, ears perked, her eyes flitting from Annie to the area beyond them, then back to Annie. She felt it too. She had to. That sudden quickening inside, the feeling she needed to catch her breath.

Standing, Annie gripped Kodi’s collar. “Bertha’s out there, Kodi.
Find
her, girl!”

Kodi was off like a shot. Annie followed, heart pounding. They were going to find Bertha. She knew it as surely as she knew daylight was coming.

She watched Kodi range back and forth, and even the jingling of her bell sounded more assured.

Doris was right. Kodi was beautiful. Annie never tired of watching her work. Growing daylight filtered through the trees around them, sending rays of gold and rose across the ravine, making Kodi’s black fur shine as she zigzagged with that easy, comfortable gait, her nose lifted to the air then lowered to the ground as she sought the elusive scent cone. Those strong legs and immense feet moved with determined grace. She was in her element, on task, and loving every minute of it.

As the shepherd headed farther down into the ravine, Annie followed, eyes and ears alert. She was so absorbed in studying the area that the crackle of the radio startled her. She lifted it from the chest pack, talking as she walked.

“This is Annie.”

“Everything going okay?”

She could hear the doubt in Dan’s voice. Time was running out. “We’re still looking, bro.”

“And we’re still praying. Keep me posted, sis.”

“Will do.”

She was about to sign off when a sound caught her attention. She turned her head, and her pulse rate jumped. “Dan, hold on!”

“Annie, say again?”

She didn’t reply Instead she waited, listening, then burst into a grin. Kodi’s bell was jingling like a Salvation Army bell ringer gone wild. That could only mean one thing.

Kodi was running!

“Dan, I’ll be right back. I think Kodi’s got something.”

No sooner had she slipped the radio back into the chest holster than the dog burst out of the woods. Annie braced herself as Kodi ran to her, then lifted both front paws off the ground midgallop and planted them on Annie’s thighs.

An alert!

“Good
girl
, Kodi! Show me. Thatta girl, show me!”

Annie scrambled through the woods, on the heels of her excited dog. Kodi disappeared around a large fallen tree. Her exuberant barks filled the air—then fell silent.

Normally when Kodi found a victim, she almost wore herself out with the excitement of it, jumping and barking, letting her celebration fill the air. Alarmed at the silence, Annie ran after the dog, rounded the tree—and jerked to a halt.

Kodi sat there, her rapid panting and thumping tail the only external signs of her jubilation.

Beside her, seated on large stump like a queen on her throne, was an elderly woman. Her disheveled snow white hair bore a crown of twigs sticking out this way and that, and her wrinkled face, though smudged and scratched, held no fear or anxiety.

She seemed … peaceful. Almost as if she belonged out here, in the middle of the wilderness. A bemused smile touched those pale lips, and she directed an adoring look down at Kodi as one veined hand scratched the shepherd’s ears.

Annie took a step forward. “Hello, Bertha.”

The woman looked up, and a beautiful smile blossomed on her face. “Do you like my wolf?” Her eyes were wide and innocent.

Annie smiled back. “Yes, Bertha. I like her very much.”

Kodi turned her head to give Bertha a quick swipe of her tongue, then stood and nudged at the tennis ball hanging in a net
bag from Annie’s belt. The payoff. In the dog’s mind, the search was always a game. And the payoff for finding the subject? A dog’s favorite thing: play!

Annie slipped the ball free from the bag and handed it to Bertha. “How would you like to throw out the first pitch?”

Bertha clapped her hands, then took the tennis ball and threw it. Barking out her joy, Kodi bounded after it.

As Bertha and Kodi played, Annie pulled her radio free and keyed the mic. Dan must have been waiting because his response was immediate.

“You found her.”

What beautiful words, spoken with such confidence. But then, her brother knew they weren’t out here on their own. “We found her. And she’s fine. A little disoriented, but fine.”

She gave Dan the coordinates from her GPS, then knelt beside Bertha and checked her out. The old woman was weak from hunger and dehydration, but other than that she was no worse for the wear.

God must have held the dear lady in His pocket.

Annie gave Bertha water, and they settled in to wait for the cavalry.

Two hours later, Bertha was safely ensconced back at the adult home. Much to Annie’s dismay, reporters were waiting for them when they emerged from the ravine. Even a few TV cameras. She shot a look at her brother, but he denied culpability.

“I didn’t call ’em. I know better.”

Indeed he did. He was well acquainted with his younger sister’s dislike for the spotlight. Unfortunately, there was no avoiding the hordes as she and Kodi and Dan walked outside. And since she was a member of the K-9 SAR unit, she had to behave.

So, one hand on her dog’s collar, Annie stood next to Dan,
listening as he answered a barrage of questions. He knew she wasn’t allowed to deal with media; that was his responsibility. But Annie couldn’t escape the flashing cameras.

She endured it as long as she could, then looked at her watch. “We have to go, Dan.”

“Sheriff?”

Dan turned to look at Agatha, and she signaled him inside the house, then held a hand up to Annie. “Would you please wait just a moment?”

Annie nodded, fidgeting as Dan went back inside. When he came out Bertha was with him, leaning on his arm. He shrugged. “She wanted to say good-bye to her wolf.”

When Dan and Bertha reached Annie, the old woman patted Dan’s arm, and he helped her lean over to hug Kodi.

Bertha looked at Annie, then reached out to wrap her soft, wrinkled fingers around Annie’s hand. “Will you bring my wolf to see me again?”

Annie squeezed her hand. “Of course.”

Dan led Bertha away, and Annie slipped Kodi’s shabrack off her, opening the Jeep door. Kodi jumped in, circled twice on the seat, then settled down, uttering a contented groan. Annie put a hand on Kodi’s head, loving the way her colors blended with Kodi’s—marigold and pink, shifting and mixing to create a combined shade of warm peach.

“You done good, girl.” She touched her forehead to Kodi’s. “I’ll bet you liked being a wolf, huh?”

“Arrooow-roow-rooo!”

Annie chuckled. Not exactly a wolf howl, but that was okay. It was the sound of pure contentment. And that was music to Annie’s ears.

She glanced around at the crisp Oregon morning. It was going to be a beautiful day. She’d much rather spend it outside.

Kodi lifted one of her paws to bat at Annie’s arm, and Annie sighed. “I know, I know. I promised Killian I’d be there.”

She shut the passenger door and climbed into the driver’s seat, then glanced at Kodi. “You can’t blame a girl for just thinking about ducking out, can you?”

The dog’s ears perked and she tilted her head, eyes wide and focused. Annie got the message.

Kodi wouldn’t blame her, but Killian certainly would. No escaping it.

Time to face her fears.

EIGHT        

S
EPTEMBER
8

3:30 p.m
.

You can do this
.

Annie peered through the branches of a potted ficus tree almost as tall as her at the people milling about Killian’s art gallery. This was her showing, for heaven’s sake. She should be out there. Mixing it up with the crowd. And she would be. In just a minute.

Or two.

Or twenty …

Lord, Kylie said You’d send my knight when I needed him, right? Well, now would be a good time. Really Couldn’t you just send him along to carry me away from all of this … this …

“Now
this
is what I call a party.”

Annie drew in a gulp of oxygen before answering her older brother. “Funny, I was just thinking
torture
was a better descriptor.”

He joined Annie in leaning against the wall, not looking at her but fully aware of what she was feeling. He’d talked her
through being in crowds ever since they were kids.

“Too many people for your taste, huh, sis?”

“Where did they all come from?”

He slid his arm around her shoulders. “All over the place. You’re quite the sensation, or didn’t you know?”

She wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad.

“So … how are you doing?”

Annie faced Dan. “Other than the obvious, I’m fine. Why?”

“I just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t … you know, worry about the e-mails.”

Ah yes, the e-mails. Annie turned back to the crowd, even more uneasy than before. “Any more show up?”

“Not a one.”

So why didn’t he sound happy about that?

“Any luck finding out who sent them?”

“Not a bit. I’m hoping my buddy from the cybercrime unit will be able to figure something out soon.” He leaned over and nudged her with his elbow. “Annie?”

She sighed. “Yes, I’m being careful.”

“Locking the gate to your property? Securing the house at night?”

“Filling the moat with alligators and piranhas.”

At his pointed silence, she turned to meet his gaze—and hesitated. Her brother actually looked worried. “Dan, just this morning we talked about all this. I know you think I forget things, but I promise. I’m being careful.”

“Where
is
the artist? I thought we were going to get a chance to talk with her?”

At the stringent voice right in front of them, Annie peeked around the leaves of the ficus and saw a well-dressed woman, crystal glass of iced tea in hand, scanning the room. Just as she was about to turn Annie’s way, Ryan Evans stepped in, taking the woman’s arm and turning her so her back was to Annie’s hiding place. He caught Annie’s eyes for a moment, then focused on the woman.

“Miss Justice will be available soon, I assure you.”

“Well! I should certainly hope so. I’ve purchased one of her pieces—not an inexpensive one—and I should think that entitles me to speak with her.” She snatched her arm away from Ryan. “Not the hired help.”

Despite the woman’s increasingly rude demeanor, Ryan’s tone stayed calm and unruffled. “Of course. But I wonder—” he leaned in close to the woman—“have you seen the room with Miss Justice’s more … exclusive works?”

Dan and Annie exchanged a glance.

“More exclusive works?”

Annie shrugged. She didn’t know what Ryan was talking about. But it made an impact on the overbearing woman. She immediately lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “No. Where is it?”

“Just come with me. I’ll show you.”

Annie released a breath as Ryan led the woman away.

“You gotta admit it: The guy’s good at what he does.”

“Definitely.”

Within minutes Ryan was on his way back across the room, heading for Annie and Dan. She touched his arm when he joined them. “Thanks for that, Ryan.”

“No reason you should have to deal with some pushy woman who’ fancies herself an art expert.” He ducked past the low-hanging leaves of the ficus. “Irritating creature.”