Book Of Days_ A Novel Part 10

What was the name he'd written down after he'd talked to Arnold? "Taylor Stone."

"Have you talked to him?"

"I'm intending to."

"Good. We should chat again after you do." Jason stood and dropped fifteen dollars on the table. "That should take care of breakfast and provide a healthy tip for our waitress. Pay it forward can work wonders, don't you think?"

A short time later Cameron stood on the sidewalk outside the Outland Cafe and stared at the mountains looming over the town like a guardian. Apparently all roads led to Taylor Stone.

It was time to find the man and get him to talk.

CHAPTER 11.

Have you read the online version of the Post Post today?" Tricia Stone asked on Thursday afternoon as she leaned back from her computer screen and looked at her husband. today?" Tricia Stone asked on Thursday afternoon as she leaned back from her computer screen and looked at her husband.

It was a rhetorical question. Taylor had run the Three Peaks Post Three Peaks Post for eighteen years, and when it arrived each week, he scoured every story, brainstorming out loud how it might have been improved if he were still there. And wis.h.i.+ng they'd never developed an online version. for eighteen years, and when it arrived each week, he scoured every story, brainstorming out loud how it might have been improved if he were still there. And wis.h.i.+ng they'd never developed an online version.

Tricia tapped her monitor. "Jason Judah just posted an op-ed piece about this video producer from Seattle, Cameron Vaux, coming here to search for the Book of Days. He ends it by inviting people to a town hall meeting tomorrow night. Jason says he has an astounding announcement to make."

Taylor didn't respond except to s.h.i.+ft in his dark brown leather chair and turn a page of his fly-fis.h.i.+ng magazine.

Tricia took off her slipper and tossed it at Taylor. It smacked him in the belly. She crossed her arms and waited till he looked up. "Are you talking to me today?"

"I'm sorry, hon. I'm more than a little wrapped up in this article. It talks about a way to create makes.h.i.+ft flies from things in the woods."

It was a lame attempt at covering up. Even though they'd married later in life-three years after her first husband had died-she'd known Taylor since third grade. And after five years of marriage, she knew when he was hiding something.

"You've never liked talking about Jason's Book of Days religion. Why?"

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Anything written about the Book of Days should be on the Weekly World News' Weekly World News' Web site, not the Web site, not the Post' Post's. I can't believe what's happened to that paper since I retired." Taylor took off his wire-rimmed gla.s.ses and cleaned them on his 501 Levis. "I should have stayed on till I hit sixty-five."

"Maybe they truly are tapping into some mystical knowledge, some spiritual plane we don't know about that shows the past and the future. A lot of Jason's followers believe in the idea, and they're not bad people."

"A lot of nice people believe in Bigfoot too, and they can show you a great deal more evidence than anyone can show for a book with the past, present, and future recorded between its covers." Taylor put his gla.s.ses back on. "It doesn't make Bigfoot real or a book that exists only in the spiritual realm real either."

Tricia got up from her chair, padded across their hardwood floor to Taylor, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He patted her forearm and picked up his magazine, blocking his face from view.

Later that night, toward eleven o'clock, just before sleep took her, Tricia felt Taylor slide out from under their goose-down comforter. A floorboard squealed and he stopped. A few moments later their bedroom door opened and closed.

She eased out of bed, put on her lavender robe, and opened the door a crack. Taylor sat in front of their kitchen computer, his face bathed in the stark light from the monitor.

She eased across the floor till she saw what he was reading. The online version of the Post. Post. She squinted. No surprise. Taylor was reading Jason's post about the Book of Days. She squinted. No surprise. Taylor was reading Jason's post about the Book of Days.

Taylor rubbed his face three times, then pressed his knuckles into his lips.

He'd carried whatever it was for so long. If only he'd tell her.

The man stared at himself in the mirror, at the lines under his eyes, at the softness of his flesh. Where had the years gone? The late fifties weren't middle age. If they were, he'd live to 120. Life was running out.

He strode out of the bathroom and onto his deck overlooking Three Peaks. A breeze kissed his hair and he allowed himself a grim smile.

So close, he was so close to finding the book. He felt it. With it he would set things right. Expose the lies. And then protect it for the rest of his days. And he wouldn't let some punk kid from Seattle sweep in and find the tome while he stood screaming on the sidelines.

He would watch Cameron. Where he went. Who he talked to. What people would or wouldn't tell him. He would use whatever Cameron discovered to find the Book of Days.

And then do whatever was necessary.

CHAPTER 12.

Cameron sat in his hotel room Thursday night chewing on espres...o...b..ans, studying his notes of Jessie's words from when she lay dying in the plane.

"The book is real. I know it is. I saw it."

But did she mean physically or with what she always called her spiritual eye?

That was the hard place between the rock. He had no way now of knowing what she meant.

Peasley, Susan Hillman, the mayor-what was his name?-none of them had said anything that would indicate the book was real, had they?

But his dad said the book was physical: "I saw it once ... I even touched it, when I was a kid. Did you know that?" "I saw it once ... I even touched it, when I was a kid. Did you know that?"

Think. Come on. Of course his dad wasn't lucid. His brain was gone. Spinning make-believe. Cameron had no way of knowing if his dad's words were fact or fiction. So his story happened to match up with Jessie's dying visions. So what? Of course his dad wasn't lucid. His brain was gone. Spinning make-believe. Cameron had no way of knowing if his dad's words were fact or fiction. So his story happened to match up with Jessie's dying visions. So what?

Cameron walked back to the oak veneer desk and slammed his laptop shut. Then he went down the hall to get a Mountain Dew. "Will this Stone guy give me the answer, Jessie?"

Cold drink in hand, Cameron trudged back into his room and slumped into the chair next to his window.

Was his dad thinking straight when he talked about some book he'd seen as a kid? That was the hard place between the rock. He had no way of knowing if his dad's words were fact or fiction. So his story happened to match up with Jessie's dying visions. So what?

But maybe the book was real. It was possible, wasn't it? Peasley, Susan Hillman...

Cameron bolted upright. Didn't he just have this conversation with himself? A surge of heat pulsed through his body. Stop it. Stop it. He couldn't let himself go there. "You are not losing it, Cameron. Your mind is fine." He couldn't let himself go there. "You are not losing it, Cameron. Your mind is fine."

Cameron stood at the window and recited long pa.s.sages of Henry David Th.o.r.eau he had memorized in college. After reeling off the top-ten grossing concerts of the last year, he launched into naming the places Jessie and he had gone on their first five hiking trips together. He made it to number two.

Cameron raked his fingernails across his head, as if he could dig the memories out of some hidden chamber in his mind. A groan escaped his lips as he pressed his head against the gla.s.s and gritted his teeth. Think! Think!

Just after midnight he gave up and wiped the cold sweat off his forehead. He'd tossed on a rocklike mattress every night since getting to Three Peaks. He'd read that lack of REM sleep could have a devastating effect on memory. That had to be it. Had to.

He flopped down on his bed, yanked the covers over his body, and let exhaustion carry him away.

The dream started almost immediately.

Three Years, Two Month EarlierA hint of barbecued salmon lingered in the air long after Jessie and Cameron had cooked and eaten their dinner in Wilmot Park on the north sh.o.r.e of Lake Chelan. The lake turned from gray to black as the last light of day faded from the sky, light ripples the only movement on the water. The first star broke out of the dusky twilight and neither of them spoke till three more had appeared.Cameron pulled Jessie against his chest. "It seems ridiculous to believe we're the only beings in this universe, don't you think?""Does it matter?"Cameron frowned. "What do you mean?""Does it matter if we are or we aren't? Isn't the deeper question if we'll go on once this existence is over?""You're thinking it's time for a little G.o.d-talk?" Cameron stroked her hair. "Lay it on me."Jessie's breathing settled into a steady rhythm, and Cameron consciously caused his pace to join hers. It was a way to feel as one. Neither spoke.She finally turned her head slightly and broke the silence. "You know how you always said you couldn't live without me?"Cameron kissed her forehead. "True.""You can." She took two long breaths. "You will.""Uh-oh. This is where you tell me you've fallen in love with your old high school tennis coach and you're about to leave."Jessie didn't laugh. "You'll make it without me." She gazed up at him, eyes sad."I'm not going anywhere, sweetie, and neither are you.""Okay." Jessie buried her head in his chest. "I want to believe that.""Why wouldn't you?" He leaned over and looked into her eyes.She closed them and pressed her lips together. "It's just that sometimes I get scared.""Of what?""Being separated.""No fear, we're going to be together for a long, long time." He squeezed her tight. "That tennis coach isn't nearly as handsome as me."Again, Jessie didn't laugh. "It's still years away. I'm not going to think about it."What was she talking about? "What's years away?""Death."A heaviness fell on Cameron as if a backpack full of stones had been thrown on his shoulders. She was serious. Death? "What's going on with you?""I'm fine.""Then why are you talking like this?""I just want to be with you for a long, long time," Jessie said."It'll be decades at least.""Okay." She nuzzled in tighter.He stroked her hair again. "I love you, Jess.""Always, Cam-Ram. Always and forever."The melancholy tone in her voice echoed in his mind for the rest of their vacation.

Cameron woke early on Friday with images of Jessie in his mind.

Had he dreamed about her? Yes. They'd been somewhere together. Near a lake? On vacation? The last images slipped from his mind like sand through his fingers. He gritted his teeth.

He had to find the book. See if it could- No.

Cameron threw on his biking shorts and ignored the thoughts galloping through his mind regarding the Book of Days. Not today. At least for a few hours.

Twenty minutes later he panted out a rhythm in concert with the spinning pedals of his Novara road bike up the McKenzie Highway. He glanced at his odometer, then his watch. Another hour and he'd reach the summit of McKenzie Pa.s.s. A perfect distance for pus.h.i.+ng his lungs and muscles to the breaking point.

Which is exactly the point his head was at.

When he reached the Dee Wright Observatory, he stopped and sucked in big gulps of air. The site offered a panoramic view of the Cascade Mountain Range as far north as Mount Hood.

Beautiful, but it didn't ease the squeezing feeling in his stomach.

Cameron got back on his bike and headed back, quads burning, lungs burning, mind burning, as he glanced at the cars rus.h.i.+ng past him in the right lane.

No one would guess.

It would be so easy to swerve in front of one of them. In seconds it would be over and he would be free. His heart rate kicked into another gear.

No way. Knock it off.

But what choices did he have?

Slowly lose his mind like his dad had? No thank you. No thank you. Keep digging for fantasies here in Three Peaks and continue to get nowhere? Keep digging for fantasies here in Three Peaks and continue to get nowhere? Sorry. Sorry. Follow Jason? A questionable plan at best. Follow Jason? A questionable plan at best. Option number four, please. Option number four, please.

Find out more about Taylor Stone? Definitely. Definitely.

As soon as he got back to his car, he pulled up Safari on his iPhone and went to www.whitepages.com.

She would know Taylor Stone.

Cameron dialed Susan Hillman's number as he sat at a red light at the north end of Three Peaks and stared out the window at a banner hanging over the street. "Meet You in the Park!"

The banner promoted the sixty-ninth annual Three Peaks Jazz Festival. It boasted itself as the Biggest Little Jazz Festival in the World. Might be worth going to.

Three rings. Four.

"Hi, Cameron. Nice to hear from you."

Cameron pulled his cell phone away from his ear and stared at it for a second. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Even out here in the sticks, we have this nifty little invention called caller ID."

Cameron smiled and thumped his head with two fingers. "You probably have microwaves and cable TV too."

"What can I do for you?"

The light turned green and he stomped on the gas a little too hard. Slow down. Slow down. He needed to relax. "I've had some intriguing conversations with someone named Jason Judah." He needed to relax. "I've had some intriguing conversations with someone named Jason Judah."

"Ah yes. Interesting man."

"You know him?"

"In a town our size you know everyone. I've known Jason since grade school, but my guess is you didn't call up to get a deeper understanding of the man."

"True." Cameron braced his yellow notepad against his steering wheel and scratched Susan Hillman Susan Hillman and the date at the top. No point in forgetting anything. and the date at the top. No point in forgetting anything.

"Jason says I should talk to a man named Taylor Stone who knows a lot about the Book of Days that he's not telling."

"That's Jason's opinion." Susan laughed.

"So you know him?"

"Taylor? Very well. He ran the Three Peaks Post Three Peaks Post for almost twenty years. I think it's an excellent idea that you meet him." for almost twenty years. I think it's an excellent idea that you meet him."

"Okay."

"I'm curious, have you figured out why this Book of Days is so important to you?"

Cameron hesitated. As much as trusting Jason seemed like foolishness, trusting Susan seemed like great wisdom. "Yeah. Because of ... I need to find it for my dad, and for my late wife, and also for me." He pulled into the parking lot of the Best Western and killed the engine.

The crackle of the connection was the only sound.

"And why is that? Why do you need to find it for yourself?"

Cameron paused a long time before saying, "Because I'm afraid I'm losing..." He didn't finish and didn't know what words to use to fill the silence.

"Did your dad say who wrote his book?"

"No, Jason says G.o.d did."

"What do you think?"

"I'm not sure if I believe in G.o.d."