Not the expected hobby of a middle-aged empty nester, and friends teased her about it. Some called her Robin Hood, at least none of them called her Friar Tuck. Taylor never teased her. He even encouraged her practice, but then he had his own target practice: fly-fishing.
Here she knew the answers, or if she didn't, it's where she could find them and fix the flaws.
As the pop can rotated slowly to the left, the sun hit it and flashed into her eyes. She blinked, then closed her eyes and saw the can in her mind.
Breathe in. Now hold it. Focus. See the can. Trust your instinct. Right there. Focus deeper. Release.
The arrow sang through the air, and Tricia didn't open her eyes till she heard the tip of the arrow rupture the can with a screech.
"Impressive shot."
Tricia whirled around to see who had spoken. There was no one. Wait. Over to the left, halfway behind a large pine. Jason Judah. "Thanks for sneaking up on me."
"No, I didn't do that." He rose from the boulder he'd been sitting on and ambled toward her. "I found you right as you started your routine. I didn't want to disturb."
Tricia glared at him trying to convey that's exactly what he'd done.
He didn't pick up on the hint. Or more likely he did and ignored it. "Mind if I join you for a few minutes?"
"Yes."
"We haven't talked just the two of us for years have we now? Hmm?"
Tricia half walked, half jogged to the can she'd just lanced to get her arrow. She didn't trust Jason. She'd never trusted him. And given his erratic history with Taylor, her heart pounded with the thought that they were miles from anyone.
Before she was halfway back, Jason called out, "What does Taylor know about the book?"
"What do you want?"
"To know what Taylor knows. Do you think he'd be willing to lead me to it?"
"That's a ridiculous question, Judah." She shuffled back up to her shooting spot and started packing her bow and arrows into a forest green bag.
"You know you're the only one who still calls me by my last name?" Jason laughed. "Did you know that?" He paused and leaned back against one of the pines surrounding them.
Tricia didn't answer. She wanted to leave, much sooner than later.
"Why is my question ridiculous?"
"Even if I knew what Taylor knows, I wouldn't tell you."
"Ah, so he does know more than he's letting on."
"Judah, I have no idea what my husband knows, if anything. But if you're so convinced he knows something, then ask him yourself." Tricia threw the last of her pop cans into her bag, yanked it onto her shoulder, and started striding the sixty yards back to her Jeep Cherokee.
"I did."
"And what did he say?"
"The truth about him will come out at some point."
"What truth is that?" She didn't look back.
"About his covering up the accident."
Tricia spun and glared at Jason. "For thirty years you've been hinting and hemming and hawing about Taylor. If you have something on him, why not just tell me. If you don't, simply keep that obnoxious maw of yours shut."
"Whoooweee!" Jason slapped his leg. "A little bit of fire coming out of the belly there. I'm impressed."
"I'm serious."
"Oh, I know you are." He narrowed his eyes. "But then again, so am I. Taylor knows more about the accident than he's ever let on. How do I know this?" Jason leaned forward. "He told me. In a moment of weakness, when for a moment he thought we were still friends, he told me. He said, 'I did it to her. I did it.' And I'm convinced whatever it is he did, is tied to the book. I'd bet my life on it." Jason rubbed his chin. "Did you know he told me that?"
Tricia's face flushed. The possibility that Jason knew more about Taylor's past than she did melted her heart. "The past is the past. What happened then is over."
"You're a believing woman, in God Almighty above. Aren't you? And you believe eternity is real? That there is a realm outside of time? A place where the past, the present, and the future can exist together?" Jason smirked. "So don't try to tell me the past is over. The past is right now."
"Are you finished?" Tricia pulled her keys out of her pocket.
"What does Taylor know about the book?"
She opened the back door of the Jeep, tossed her gear inside, and slammed it shut. "You might fool your followers, Judah, but not me. I see who you are. And it isn't about truth."
She got in, fired up the Jeep, and mashed the gas pedal to the floor, kicking up a curtain of dust that blocked Jason from sight in her rearview mirror.
If only making him disappear for good was that easy.
Ann had just finished forty-five minutes on a treadmill at the Three Peaks Women's Gym—which did wonders in erasing the fear of yesterday's climb—when a voice behind her said, "Excuse me, you're Ann Banister, aren't you?"
Ann turned to see a woman probably in her late fifties, with wavy shoulder-length brown hair and a face that looked familiar.
"I am, and you are?"
"Tricia Stone, Taylor's wife."
The wife of the mysterious Taylor Stone. Interesting. "Good to meet you."
"I feel the same way. I've been hoping to bump into you ever since you arrived."
"Really?"
"Yes, and—I don't mean to pry—but speaking of bumps, that's a doozy you have on your forehead there."
"It looks much worse than it feels. I battled a cliff yesterday. The cliff won." Ann touched her forehead. "It's a little tender but that's all."
"That's good to hear." Tricia handed her a small card with an address on it. "I'm sure a home-cooked meal would do wonders for your recovery."
"You're inviting me over for dinner?"
Tricia nodded.
Ann smiled as she wiped the sweat off her forehead with a hand towel. This could be providential. It might be a chance to discover a few of the mysteries Taylor knew about the Book of Days and find out about his reaction to her at Jason's gathering. "This might sound rude, Tricia, and I hope it doesn't come across that way, but why do you want to invite me into your home?"
She smiled. "Good for you. Don't worry; I appreciate people who are straightforward, so I'll be the same." She took Ann's arm and led her away from the row of treadmills out of range of the three other women doing an early morning workout on the machines.
"When you got up on stage during Jason's little shindig the other day, Taylor's face turned the color of freshly fallen snow. He wouldn't talk about it, but I know something about you crumbled his Oreos."
"I heard about that."
Tricia's eyes widened.
"Cameron Vaux told me."
"Ah." Tricia nodded. "When I asked Taylor why seeing you made him go all goofy, he clammed up like a Mafia boss on the witness stand." She grabbed a heartbeat monitor off a stand next to a row of elliptical trainers and strapped it to her wrist.
Ann smiled. "I see. So your plan is to ambush him when I step through that door where he's trapped and has to give some kind of explanation about me?"
"Oh no, I would never do that. Of course not." Tricia patted her on the shoulder. "I plan on giving him a full ten minutes of warning before you arrive."
Ann shook her head and smiled again.
"Can you make it tonight, say around six thirty?"
"I'll be there."
"Wonderful. I'm so looking forward to it."
Ann would be there, along with a certain picture from her mom's childhood. Something told her the Stones needed to be asked about that photo.
As Ann left the gym, her eyes locked on to a man with a baseball hat sitting directly across the street on a dark brown bench. She glanced away, then back to the man. He was watching her.
She reached into her purse to grab her keys, and when she looked up again, his gaze was still fixed on her. She glanced up and down the street for cars, then jogged across Main Street directly toward him.
"Hello. My name is Ann. What's yours?"
The man looked Native
American. He smiled, and his dark brown eyes danced. "I hope I didn't frighten you just now."
"You didn't, but why were you staring at me?"
"It is important I see you. Meet you."
"Why?"
"To see."
"See what?"
"I'm sorry. I'm not able to explain that to you right now." The man stood, put on gold-rimmed sunglasses, and gave a slight nod. "It was a pleasure to meet you. And again, I regret the possibility of having disturbed you."
"Who are you? What's your name?"
"Good day, Ms. Banister. I wish much life on you."
Great. Another creeper to add to her collection.
CHAPTER 28
It's a Wonderful Life played though Cameron's head as he drove toward Taylor Stone's house late Friday morning. "I want to live! Clarence, I want to live!" Cameron smiled at his abysmal imitation of Jimmy Stewart.
What was that overused line from Dead Poets Society? Carpe diem. "Seize the day." He wanted to carpe liber. "Seize the book."
The climb yesterday had made him want to live and, at the same time, freed him from worrying about the future. Death could come in any moment, why not live it to the full in the moment he was in? His brain could short out tomorrow, so why not rip the envelope into pieces while he still had the chance? That meant planting his feet in front of Taylor Stone and finding a way to get him to reveal his secrets about the Book of Days.
Cameron pulled up to the curb in front of Taylor's house and tried to formulate a plan. After five minutes he still didn't have one. It didn't matter. He'd know what to say when he got there.
After ringing the doorbell three times and getting no response, he eased around the side of the house into the backyard.
In the southeast corner, Tricia set paving stones in an undulating pattern as she worked toward a wishing well that looked brand new.
"Hi, Tricia."
She turned and stood. "Hello, Cameron." She shook off her gardening gloves and grasped his hand tightly. "You're looking for him?"
He looked back at the house and nodded.
"He's fishing."
"I should have known."
"But I'll answer any question I can." Tricia did a faux curtsy.
Not a bad idea. He might learn something new.
She led Cameron over to a well-worn maple bench framed by a trellis covered with lavender wisteria. She brushed the bench with the tips of her fingers. "My thinking, talking, and kibitzing bench. All ready for you."
"Thanks." Cameron sat. "Is Taylor acting differently these days?"
She smiled. "Video directors are observers, aren't they? He's been acting strange ever since you showed up. But it was nothing compared to the reaction when Ann Banister stepped onstage."
"No kidding. That, I'll remember. Any idea what that was all about?"
"I don't know. Yet."
"You're on a mission to find out?"
Resolve shone in her eyes. "Most definitely. Ann's coming over for dinner tonight."
"My Ann? I mean, Ann Banister?"
"No, Anne Frank." She flicked his leg. "Of course Ann Banister."
Cameron smiled.
"Her visit should be interesting. I'll give you a full report."
"I'd appreciate that."
"I like her." Tricia took off her shoes and knocked them together to get rid of the dirt that clung to them. "I can see you like her too."
"Hmm."
She turned on the bench toward Cameron. "Are you going to do anything about it?"
He'd come to ask the questions but ended up with the Three Peaks version of Barbara Walters sitting next to him. "No."
"Why?"
"I wouldn't do that to Jessie."
"If you knew you were dying and Jessie would live many years beyond you, would you want her to live her life alone, hanging on to the cloud of your death and your memory? Or would you want her to be happy?"
"Point taken."
Tricia tossed her shoes onto the lawn. "I need to stop shoving myself into areas that are none of my concern. I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
She patted Cameron's leg. "Good man."
Time to bring the subject back to Taylor. "So Ann's appearance at Jason's—"
"I doubt Taylor would've been any more shocked if Elvis had stepped up to that microphone. He tried to tell me it was a sudden bout of stomach cramps, but of course I didn't believe him. He hasn't had a stomach cramp since, well, I don't know if he's ever had one since we were married."
"Five years ago."
Tricia nodded. "Yes."
"You haven't been married that long."
"Well, I didn't want to be a widow the rest of my life, and Taylor and I have been friends for eons, at least since second grade. So after I'd grieved for far longer than I should have, we started having coffee together, and dinners at Kokanee Café, and hikes up to Whychus Creek Falls . . . and before long he slipped a ring on my finger, and here we are."
"Do you still think about your first husband?"
"All the time." Tricia patted Cameron's hand. "But the pain is muted."
Mute his pain? Sounded wonderful. But how long would it take to get there? So far the pain of losing Jessie still screamed in his ear every day.
"What about Taylor? Ever married before you?"
"Yes."
She paused so long Cameron thought that was all she would say.
"He was married at twenty-three. They were perfect for each other. It only lasted two years."
"Why?"
"He was widowed as well." Tricia looked up toward the ivy crawling over the redwood trellis and covered her mouth. "Whew, I don't think about the accident too much anymore." She blinked rapidly.
"Accident?"
She stood, pulled the lavender scarf off her head, and moved over to the rosebushes next to the trellis. "Taylor blames himself for her death. He's never come right out and said that, but I can tell that he does. I can tell." She plucked at the roses that were encroaching on her side of the bench. "He's never told me why he feels that way. I stopped asking a few years ago."
"What was her name?"
"Annie."
Window-crank Annie. One mystery solved, three thousand to go.
"He changed after Annie died. There was a big group of us that hung out together. Kirk and Arnold, and Annie and me, and at least ten others. Taylor was our leader and had a spontaneous streak that kept us all in trouble most of the time. After two or three months, the playful part came back but the thoughtful Taylor was gone. At least on the outside. We all tried to talk to him about Annie's death, but he wouldn't speak about it. Ever.
"We'd see him sometimes, sitting in the field where he proposed to Annie, weeping. But around us it was only jokes. He worked so hard at covering up his pain, at some point he couldn't even get past the veneer himself." She smiled. "And now God has brought you and Ann into his life to stir it all up again."
"That's a good thing?"
"It's wonderful. You have to clean out a wound before it can heal properly."
Cameron waited for her to finish deadheading the roses and sit back down before he spoke. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Yes, of course."
"Does it bother you that Taylor keeps so many secrets from you?"
Tricia's smile was sad as she shook her head. "No. Because I believe it is a divine plan that I am in Taylor's life the way I am. And I also know beyond a shadow of doubt that he loves me. Deeply." She patted Cameron's hand again. "And I love him back the same way. Some day all secrets will be revealed."
"Does Taylor know something about the Book of Days he's not saying?"
"If I were in Las Vegas with millions to burn—which I don't have—and I were a betting woman—which I'm not—I would have to put my money on the answer being yes."
"What does he know?"
"I haven't a clue." She shook her head.
Cameron hadn't planned on interviewing Tricia about the Book of Days. He assumed Taylor w
ould block any attempt, so he'd put little hope in the idea. But now that he was here, and she answered every question so openly, he'd begun to think he would get an insight or a clue or at least an indication about the true depth of Taylor's knowledge of the book. Now that it was apparent Cameron would get nothing, frustration swirled around him.
But Tricia could help with another mystery tied to the book.
"Can you tell me about Jason and Taylor? Taylor says Jason's been trying to one-up him since high school."
"Since their junior year." Tricia sighed. "But before that they were best friends. All through grade school and junior high, and through the first two years of high school. The best of pals."
"You've got to be kidding." Cameron snorted out a laugh.
Tricia arched an eyebrow. "That amuses you?"
"These days they'd be the last pair cast in a buddy movie." Cameron took out his notepad and scribbled in it. "There must have been a radical turn somewhere along the road."
"Yes." Tricia sighed again. "Over a woman. They both loved the same one." She reached down and pulled two straggling weeds poking up out of a crack in the circle of stones on which the bench sat.
"Annie."
Tricia nodded. "Taylor won her heart over Jason. Up till then, it had been okay that Taylor was the better athlete and more popular, better at school . . . But after Jason's heart was broken, Taylor became the villain, and no matter how hard he tried, Jason wouldn't let go of his bitterness. He was drafted after high school and went to Vietnam. Taylor hoped he'd be different when he came back but he was worse.
"Taylor married Annie right after college, hoping Jason would be his best man, a way to mend the wound, a way to put the pain behind them and move on, but Jason refused.
"Two years later she died, and Jason blamed Taylor for her death. He tried to prove it in all sorts of ways, but of course it was simply a horrible accident. A month or so later, Jason vanished. Nobody heard a whisper about him till twelve years ago when he moved back fully immersed in the New Age movement and determined to see the future and create a new world. He's been looking for ways to humiliate Taylor from the moment he returned. He hasn't succeeded, but it's made Taylor bitter toward Jason."
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