It made him think of Jessie's stone. His hand pressed against his chest and felt it under his shirt. For a moment he thought about telling Susan about the stone. Not yet. It wasn't time.
"That stone is a good choice." A pleased, almost joyful look passed over Susan's face. "A very, very good choice. Do you know where I found it?" She spoke as if talking directly to the stone. "Right here. In Three Peaks. I've never seen another like it."
She nodded twice and stood. Cameron took his cue and walked toward her porch steps. "So will you tell more about the book?"
Susan smiled and patted his arm. "You're a good man, Cameron. Keep hope, always hold on to hope."
Cameron jammed his notepad into his back pocket, clomped down Susan's stairs and toward his car. He did have hope mixed in with a full helping of discouragement. Cryptic answers was all he was getting. He didn't have time for Three Peaks' version of Where's Waldo. He needed answers before his mind went on permanent hiatus.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
A man clipped along the sidewalk directly across from Susan's house.
Who? . . . Gillum, it was Kirk Gillum.
"Hey, Kirk." Cameron gave a quick flick of his hand in greeting. "As you've probably guessed, I just met with Susan. Thanks again for the introduction."
Gillum nodded in return and kept walking.
A little more of that mayoral warmth to brighten Cameron's day.
It didn't matter. Tomorrow he'd employ an old-fashioned method of discovering what he needed to know. And he would find answers.
CHAPTER 8
On Wednesday morning Cameron headed for the Three Peaks Public Library determined to find answers. Looking in books and old newspaper articles might tell him something the Internet and the people of Three Peaks hadn't relinquished.
Five and a half hours later, after pouring over every history book housed on the sagging shelves and every article available, all he'd achieved was exhaustion. And a neck that felt like guitar strings tuned three octaves too high.
Cameron slammed a book on the history of early Oregon shut and squeezed his temples. Why couldn't he find anything? Why was this town such a vault when it came to this mysterious book?
He looked at his notes spread out on one of the library's tables in front of a huge picture window and watched a shadow creep across them as the sun started to set.
It was pointless.
"You're not getting anywhere, are you?"
Cameron turned at the sound of the voice behind him.
A young man with sky-gray eyes, a Caterpillar baseball hat and a thick black goatee sat in a corner of the library, worn cowboy boots propped up on a chair in front of him. A decades old copy of Life magazine rested on his chest. Jimi Hendrix was on the cover.
"No one is tossing out straight answers, are they?"
"About?" Cameron raised his eyebrows.
"Don't insult me." The man laughed. "News travels in a small town even faster than Twitter."
Cameron rubbed his chin and studied the man. His eyes were mischievous. "You really want to find out about this Book of Days nonsense?"
Cameron frowned. "Book of Days?"
"Yeah, that's the official title. What have you been calling it?"
How much should he tell Cowboy Bob? At least enough to keep him talking. "My dad said 'book of all the days.'"
The man set his boots on the ground and sat up. "Your dad?"
"That's what he called it."
"Close enough. Some people call it the 'Book of Memories.'"
He leaned in. Finally someone who didn't talk in circles. "Book of Memories?"
"Sure, supposedly it's the book where everyone's life is recorded. All their memories."
His dad's memories. Jessie's. His own.
"I need to find that book." Cameron looked directly at the man. "I have to find that book."
"Take a number."
"What do you mean?"
The man took off his hat and leaned forward. "I've wondered about the legend myself for years."
"Can you tell me the legend?"
"I just did." The man flicked his hat. "It's Native American. At least that's where they say it started. But some people in town get pretty private about it. The New Agers mostly. I don't know why. It's not that big a deal. The few outsiders who dig around and figure out what it is, come to the conclusion it's a joke and they wander off."
"So where do I go from here?"
"Talk to Jason. He's the expert on the Book of Days." The man closed his Life magazine and tossed it onto the end table next to his chair.
"Where do I find . . . ?"
"Jason Judah. Three Peaks' most prominent self-appointed spiritual leader."
"Self-appointed?"
"You answer every question with a question? You some kind of Socrates fan-boy?" The man broke a toothpick in two and started cleaning his teeth. "Just a little small-town humor for you."
Or small-town strangeness. "I see."
"My name is Johnny. People around here call me Johnny."
"You should have stopped with the first joke."
"I like you, Cameron." Johnny chuckled.
"Thanks." Cameron rose to his feet. "Where can I find Jason?"
Johnny pointed out the window in front of Cameron to a building on the corner across the street.
"See that tiny door between the two windows? The white one with the dark blue trim? That's where the faithful gather."
Cameron stared at the dark blue door hoping that stepping through it would change his life forever.
The door said Future Current.
Future Current? That sounded familiar. Cameron looked at his notes. Right. It was the New Age group Ann told him about. Yes. Finally he would get answers. Cameron stepped into the room, slid a few feet along the flaxen-colored back wall, and leaned against it. Jazz-rock—Joe Satriani maybe—played just loud enough for the melodic bass line and an occasional guitar riff to be heard.
Jason Judah stood in front of a polished steel podium, looking like an aged and heavier version of the Norse god Thor with curly hair, his thick dirty blond locks hanging down just below his ears.
His sixty-plus disciples leaned forward in their chairs, taking copious notes as their leader's voice rose and fell in a gentle cadence.
Two of Jason's followers he recognized: Arnold Peasley and his buddy Kirk Gillum.
"We are looking for answers. The answers are out there. We are looking for direction. The path is right in front of us. We are looking for meaning. The meaning of our lives is calling to us in every moment. We are looking for our bliss. Our bliss is waiting for us to take action.
"What do you want? You don't have because you don't ask. You can make what you want reality. We must understand that the power of the mind is limited." Jason smiled and waited, probably for the questioning looks that appeared a few seconds later.
"You expected me to say unlimited, yes? But the mind is indeed limited; by fear, by worry, by doubt. It is time to put fear aside. To push through the doubts to the other side. To give anxiety no place in your heart ever again." Jason motioned with his hands as if beckoning his followers.
"Come now, come. Believe. Believe you can create the reality you've always dreamed of. Believe you can use the Book of Days to make everything you've ever wanted come true. Believe you can tap into its vast knowledge of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. The book is here. And if we believe, we can move mountains with its power."
Jason closed his eyes and tilted his head back.
"The book is our guide." Jason paused, then opened his eyes and grinned. "And with it we will become unstoppable."
A rush of adrenaline coursed through Cameron. Either the man was a nut case or this was the
breakthrough he'd hoped for.
Jason's gaze swept slowly back and forth over the faction in front of him. On his second pass he locked on to Cameron. One by one, Jason's group followed his gaze till all eyes were riveted on Cameron.
"Are you a seeker or a believer?" Jason asked.
"Neither."
"An honest man." Jason held out his hand, palm up. "That is refreshing." He strode over to Cameron. "If you are neither a seeker nor a believer, tell us what brings you here and what we might do to help make your life more full."
Cameron couldn't tell if Jason was kidding or not. Did he make up a line like that or read it in some self-help guru's book? Neither the man nor the smile on his face moved. Jason must be serious.
"My name is Cameron Vaux."
"Welcome, Cameron."
"I'd like to talk to you about the Book of Days."
"Excellent. You've come to the right place. Let's step outside for a moment." Jason led Cameron back through the door he'd come in. After they'd walked five yards Jason said, "The book, why do you seek it?"
"My—" He glanced at Jason. A hunger in the man's eyes made him stop. "Some friends of mine mentioned it before they died. They said it was important that I find it. I promised them I would. So I'm honoring their request."
"Wise friends. And I respect your honoring their desire." Jason smiled. "I think having a discussion about the book can be arranged. Breakfast tomorrow morning, perhaps? Say seven thirty at the Outland Café?"
"I'd like to talk to you about it right now."
"Not now. Tomorrow morning."
Cameron nodded. Jason didn't seem the type to be coerced into anything he didn't want to do.
"Our journey together begins, Cameron. I believe you will find it an extremely fascinating one."
CHAPTER 9
Ann sat in her room on Wednesday morning holding a cup of bad hotel coffee as she tried to ignore the cloud of doubt that hung over her head, sending drops of anxiety into her heart.
You're supposed to be here . . . you're supposed to be here.
Repeating the phrases like a mantra didn't help.
She'd slept late, went for a run, and showered, thinking it would help her figure out if she should call Cameron. He wasn't expecting her till Saturday. Part of her wanted to announce her early arrival, and part said wait.
She decided to check in with Drew, then grab an early lunch. Getting out among people would help clear her head.
"How was the drive down?" Drew asked.
"Fine." Ann took a sip of coffee and grimaced.
"You're still feeling this is the perfect path for you to be on?"
"No, but I'm successfully ignoring all those negative thoughts." She paused. "At least I wish I were."
"Are you thinking of heading back?"
"No, I need to do this, Drew."
"Hey, do me a favor. If you have it in your laptop, could you look up the e-mail address of that photographer who came by the office last month? I want to have him take some new head shots of you and the rest of the crew."
"[email protected]." Ann grabbed her keys and slipped out her door into the hotel hallway.
He chuckled. "It amazes me every time you do something like that."
"There are some advantages of having a photographic memory."
"What, there are disadvantages?"
"Remind me to tell you about them sometime."
"So have you figured out what you're going to say to Cameron when you see him?"
"I'm thinking about hello for starters." Ann reached her car, opened it, and slid behind the wheel.
"Hah."
"Hey, I worked on it the whole trip down."
"Seriously, what are you going to say?"
"I'm not thinking about it." Not at the moment. But she'd been debating what to say since that first disconcerting phone call four days ago. Ann jammed her keys into the ignition, started her Prius, and yanked the gearshift into Reverse.
"In other words, you have no clue how you'll greet him."
"I have nothing."
"I think you should take the blunt approach and tell him the reason you haven't had a relationship last more than nine months ever since you met him."
"I already told you, those feelings vanished years and years ago." A grocery store slid by on her left. Lunch. She needed some.
"I think the lady doth protest too much."
"Leave it alone, Drew." She didn't need him needling her about it. Especially when his needles were hitting such tender spots.
"Does anyone in Three Peaks know you're coming?"
"Who would even care if I'm coming?"
"Small towns make big stars like you even bigger."
"I'm not a star. I hate that."
"It's true."
"Fine. I'll get my pen prepared."
"I caught that alliteration. Nicely done."
"Thanks, I'll be in touch." Ann hung up and her stomach took advantage of the pause in the action to shout, Food! Now!
The Darn Good Deli caught her eye and she slammed on the brakes and turned hard to the right. Behind her a horn screamed at her.
"Yeah, sorry, my fault." She squeezed into a parking spot on the far side of the lot and grabbed her purse. As she stood in line trying to decide between the barbecue chicken sandwich and the turkey melt, the mumbling behind her grew in volume.
"It is!"
"Here? Nah. It is not."
"Is!"
Ann turned. Two women, one blonde, one brunette, both in short-sleeve blouses squirmed behind her. They looked to be in their midforties, carrying a few extra pounds, but their features were striking. Take twenty years and twenty pounds off and they could have been models. Who did they remind her of? Some old comic book with a blonde and brunette in it. Bingo. Archie. Betty and Veronica hit middle age.
The brunette spoke first. "Hi, sorry to bother you. We're not exactly the outdoorsy types, but we love reading and watching shows about it. And, well, there's this national TV show we're hooked on called Adventure Northwest. They do shows on white-water rafting, and paintball, and hot-air ballooning, and kayaking, and skiing, you know, that kind of stuff. Well, we think you look just like the host, Ann Brewster."
"Banister!" Betty whacked Veronica on the arm.
"A lot of people tell me I look like her." Ann nodded toward the sandwich menu on the wall. "What do you recommend?"
"I always get the turkey melt; it's never let me down," the brunette said.
"I'll take that one," Ann said to the man behind the counter. She winked at Veronica. "Thanks."
After giving him details on how she wanted it—mayo, mustard, no pickles, olives, lettuce, and tomatoes—she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Are you sure you're not Ann Banister?"
"I'm pretty sure. But it's difficult to be absolutely one-hundred percent positive."
"I think you're her. She's my favorite person on TV."
Ann smiled. "Okay," she whispered. "I'm me. I mean, I'm her. I'm Ann. But it's not a big deal. Really."
She paused to watch the absurdity of fame engulf the women.
"Ahh! I knew it was you!" The brunette drilled her finger into the blonde's shoulder like a woodpecker trying to get at a beetle. "See! See! I was right."
"Ouch! Stop it!"
"Can I let you in on a little secret?" Ann said.
Both women leaned in, their mouths twittering with nervous grins.
"I'm no more special than you two, just a bit better known. Really." Ann might as well have mentioned aliens just landed in town square for all the effect her words had. The ladies nodded and kept grinning.
By the time Ann paid for her sandwich, the women had calmed down. Thankfully the two workers be
hind the counter had obviously never seen her show.
After creating a mix of Diet Mountain Dew, Cherry Coke, and raspberry iced tea, Ann waited for her two new friends to pick up their sandwiches.
"Can I ask you a favor?"
"Hi," the blonde said. "I mean, yes, of course."
"I'm visiting in town for a few days and haven't connected yet with the person I'm meeting here. Do you mind if we eat together? I would love to find out a little bit more about your town."
After almost dropping their drinks the two women agreed, and the three found a table in the back.
"We'll introduce you to Jason Judah, absolutely for sure we will," Betty said. "He's the most spiritual man you'll ever meet and knows just about everyone in town. In fact, he's having a get-together tonight at the town hall. It's an open invitation and you'd get to meet everyone. You know what I mean? You should come."
Veronica gave her the address and time.
"Okay, I will." Ann noted them on her cell phone. "But for the moment, all I want to know is if there are any good swimming holes around here where the kids hang out during the summer."
"You came all the way from Portland to find out where the local kids go for a swim?" Betty tilted her head and frowned.
"It's pretty important to me to find out the answer." Ann reached into her purse and pulled out the picture of her mom.
"Oh my." Veronica stared at the picture, then slid it over to Betty. A few seconds later they both scooped up their sandwiches and grabbed their drinks. "We're so sorry, Ms. Banister. We just remembered something. There's somewhere we have to be right now. Gotta go."
Ann stared at them as they scampered out the door without looking back. Interesting. There were obviously some dark rabbit holes in Three Peaks. She looked forward to seeing how deep they went.
CHAPTER 10
As Cameron trudged down Main Street on his way to breakfast with Jason on Thursday morning, he stared at a sign in the window of Step on the Field Sports that reminded him of Jessie. It said, "You gotta believe! The Outlaws will take State this fall!"
Three months after they'd started dating, Jessie had stood on the top of Mount Si thirty miles east of Seattle, gazing at the miles of trees laid out in front of them like a patchwork green carpet.
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