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 would 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."

"I can't say I blame him for that."

"Unforgiveness is like taking a daily poison tablet, expecting it to hurt the other person."

"Jessie used to say something like that." Cameron thought of Ann. Hadn't he just talked to her about forgiveness? "You're saying he needs to forgive him."

"He must. He has to."

"Do you think Jason can ever forgive Taylor?"

Tricia looked up at Cameron with storm clouds in her eyes. "I'm not talking about Jason. I'm talking about Taylor."

Cameron bent down and pulled up a few strands of grass. "Tell me about Taylor's wife, Annie. Who was she? How did she die?"

"I should let Taylor tell you that part of the story." Tricia stood and brushed the dirt off her knees. "Not that he'll tell the tale easily."

"Did her death have anything to do with—?"

"Don't you think we've talked enough for one day? I do."

No, he didn't. He wouldn't feel that way till he stood in front of the Book of Days reading its pages. But he followed her lead, thanked her for the time, and walked to his car.

Onions, Cameron thought as he drove toward Arnold Peasley's house. Ogres might be like onions, but people were too—always another layer underneath the last one.

Taylor was turning out to have more layers than most.

He had to find a way to peel back every one of them.