Kaleidoscope by Gail Bowen Page B

revealing her privateself. Yet from the moment they met, Taylor and Isobel had been fast friends.
    Not wanting to disturb the sweetness of the moment, neither Zack nor I moved, but the dogs loped ahead and the girls turned. Their young faces were anxious.
    “How bad is the house?” Taylor asked.
    “It’s bad,” I said.
    “Were the paintings wrecked?”
    “We don’t know,” I said. “The police wouldn’t let us go inside. It wasn’t safe.”
    Taylor lowered her eyes and began scuffing the dirt with her toe. Isobel was a girl quick to sense the moods of others. She jumped off the swing and touched Taylor’s shoulder. “I think maybe you and your parents need to be alone to talk about this.”
    Zack smiled at her. “Thanks, Izzie. We’ll see you later.”
    When Isobel left, Taylor looked at her father and me. There were tears in her eyes. “Will we ever be able to move back?” she asked.
    “It’ll be a while,” Zack said. “But it will happen. Until the house is back to normal, we’ve got the lake and we’ve found a place to stay during the week. It’s not far from your school.”
    “Where?” Taylor asked.
    “Leland Hunter’s condo on Halifax Street.”
    “But the bedroom is upstairs,” Taylor said.
    “You’ve seen it?” I said.
    “Declan left his jacket there one weekend and we went to pick it up.” Her face pinched with worry, she turned to Zack. “You’re coming with us, aren’t you?”
    “To the ends of the earth,” Zack said. “But in this case, just as far as the main floor. You’ll have the big bedroom on the second floor. There are a couple of other bedrooms downstairs. Joanne and I will take one of those.”
    “I knew there were bedrooms downstairs, and I knew Jo and I would never move without you. What’s the matter with me?”
    “The same thing that’s the matter with all of us,” I said. “There’s just too much to absorb. And, Taylor, there’s something else. We’re not going to tell anyone where we’re living. Declan and his dad and Margot will know, of course, and the police have been told, but that’s it.”
    Taylor’s dark eyes widened. “Not even Gracie and Isobel?”
    Zack’s voice was even. “I’ve known those girls since the day they were born. I love and trust them, but we can’t afford a slip. I honestly don’t think we’re going to hear anything more from those apes who blew up our house, but until the cops get them, we can’t tell anybody where we’re living.”
    Taylor got off the swing. “Okay,” she said, and her voice was small. She started up the slope towards the house, and we followed. I could see Zack’s weariness as he pushed uphill. My own legs felt like lead.
    We had a sandwich and when I suggested a nap, Zack didn’t fight me. Two hours later, I woke feeling if not reborn at least ready to face what lay ahead. I turned so I could look at my husband’s face. The creases that bracketed his mouth were deep. His paraplegia affected every area of his life. Routine made it manageable, but in the next month, there would be no routine. We’d be adapting to a new house, a new schedule, and Zack would be carrying the burden of convincing a jury that his client, a slumlord with unsavoury connections, hadn’t murdered his girlfriend. I went into the bathroom, picked up my nail polish, and came back to bed. When Zack awakened, he stretched lazily. “So any new crises while we slept?”
    “Nothing major,” I said. “But I seem to have smudged the polish on my baby toe.” I handed him the bottle ofMochaccino Mama. “How about a quick repair job before we go to Magoo’s?”
    When Margot, Leland, and Declan arrived, Margot, a dog lover without a dog, dropped to her knees and began crooning endearments to Willie and Pantera. Leland’s stitches still looked angry, but he wasn’t the only member of his family among the walking wounded. Declan had a line of stitches along his cheekbone, and the area around his right eye was an ugly