Free Shadow of Perception by Kristine Mason Page A

blinked let alone answered or moved.  
    Swallowing hard, Dorothy held out a shaky hand. “Pudge? Honey, you okay? You’re scaring me.”
    When she received no response, she slapped both hands together and screamed as loud as she could.  
    Pudge jumped. The juice glass shattered on the floor. Pudge looked to the mess, then to Dorothy. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’m such a klutz. I’ll get you another glass of juice. Then we’ll take care of your bag and gauze. How did you say you wanted your eggs?”  
    Confused, Dorothy continued to stare at her child. The dark defiance in Pudge’s gaze had disappeared. Eyes that had seemed unearthly moments ago now sparkled blue. The resemblance to Rick had also vanished.  
    But for Dorothy, the fear remained.  
    Something was wrong with her Pudge.

Chapter 5
    Hudson kept pace with Eden as she led him through the corridors of WBDJ-TV’s offices.  
    “Hurry,” she said and grabbed his arm. “I need to find David.”
    “Who?”
    “My cameraman. I want to catch him before he goes to lunch.”
    Hudson’s stomach grumbled, a reminder he hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening. When he’d raided Eden’s fridge and cabinets this morning, he’d come up empty. Brown, squishy bananas, yogurt and protein bars did not constitute food in his opinion. “Lunch isn’t a bad idea,” he said, hoping she’d take the hint.
    “No time. I need to finish this last segment for the Sunday evening news. And I hate having to rush or be crunched for time.” She stopped and asked a security guard if he’d seen the cameraman. The guard pointed to the left and she took off again. “Besides,” she began, “I thought you wanted to review my beauty pageant series that’s been airing over the past few weeks.”
    He did, but while eating a Big Mac and fries. Before he could respond, though, she stopped dead.
    “Oh good, you’re still here,” she said to the large Asian man approaching them. Wearing a long, leather duster, boots, flannel shirt and carrying a cowboy hat, he looked as if he’d stepped off the set of an old spaghetti western film.  
    “And a good afternoon to you too,” the man replied with a thick Southern drawl.  
    Hudson suppressed a smile. He’d met all sorts of people in his life. An Asian man dressed as a cowboy, and sporting a deep, baritone twang that rivaled Johnny Cash’s, was a first.  
    “Sorry,” Eden said, then looked to the ceiling. “Hello, David. How are you today?”
    “Fine, ma’am.” David smiled. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
    She turned to Hudson. “David’s been trying to turn me into a Southern Belle.”
    “Just ‘cause you were born a Yankee doesn’t mean you hafta act like one,” David responded and offered Hudson his hand. “David Ito. Cameraman extraordinaire and Eden’s personal lackey.”
    “Professional consultant,” she corrected. “This is Hudson Patterson.”
    “Nice to meetcha,” David said, then turned to Eden. “Now, why are you so happy to see me?”
    “I was hoping you’d work with me on the last segment for my series.”
    “You don’t need me. You’re better off with Rusty.”
    “No. I mean, Rusty is good, but you’ve been with me on every interview and had taken every shot. It’s your opinion I need. You’re the reason this series has been so successful.”
    David looked at him and shook his head. “Does she get all sweet and lay on the sugar when she wants something from you, too?”
    Sweet wasn’t a word he’d ever use to describe Eden. Stubborn. Yes. Sexy. Hell yes. He cleared his throat before his thoughts jumped on the train to depravity.
    “Well?” Eden asked before Hudson could form a response. “Are you free this afternoon?”
    “He’s taken.” A tall, leggy blond said as she rounded the corner and placed a hand on David’s arm. “Sorry, Eden. You can’t keep him to yourself all of the time.”
    “Tabitha,” Eden said, and from her pinched expression Hudson suspected she was