by Jill Cooper
“It’s nepotism,” Merrill says and rises to his feet, “that’s what this is. Plain and simple. Crane has always been Delilah’s pet project.”
My eyes narrow. “She was my friend and collaborator. I’m no one’s pet.”
“Sit back down, Merrill. Everyone understands where you’re coming from,” Marcus says. “We’ll take it to a vote.”
Mom opens her mouth to say something but I shake my head to warn her off. I don’t need her to fuel Merrill any further.
“The board will support you,” Franklin says, “If you choose to stay in that seat for now, I will give you whatever guidance you need.”
“We won’t let you fall,” Tracy nods.
Marcus puffs up his chest as I nod, but I can’t look him in the eye. Part of me doesn’t like how he’s grandstanded and given such a persuasive speech. Just like a politician, and I had thought we were above those tactics. “Then we’ll take it to an official vote.”
“Just a second,” a knock at the door stops the train barreling down the track. A man in a classy business suit enters and hands Marcus an official legal brief. “Delilah Chase named a successor and filed it with the TTPA several months ago.”
Oh God, is it me? My stomach churns and sweat gathers on my brow. I wipe it away as Marcus’s face goes red. “This is preposterous! I’ve never heard of this individual!”
“It’s no lie, I assure you.”
That voice.
I grip the table and stand. The hairs on the back of my neck rise and my hands go clammy. The man who enters the room is young, with a strong bone structure, green eyes and wavy, black hair. His face has changed, but that British accent…the arrogance with which he speaks…
I’ll never forget that voice.
It’s Rex.
Chapter Seven
I had killed Uncle Rex six years ago, so how is he standing in front of me? He is dead, and I’d rolled all the timelines into one; it’s not possible for him to be alive. Or is it?
Plus, his face…it’s not the same. So how had he pulled that off? Plastic surgery? Something. I don’t know how he did it, but he is here, in the flesh. “Well,” he drones on, “you must be the Miss Montgomery that Delilah has spoken so highly of.” He offers me his hand. In friendship?
Never.
But the British accent is gone. Now he sounds as Bostonian as I do. There’s a slight twitch on his face as I leave him hanging. The tension in the room thickens as I stare him down.
Did I imagine it? Was the stress of it all just getting to me?
“I will vet you,” my jaw won’t relax, “personally.”
He smiles at me. “Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way, Lara.”
The way he says my name makes my blood curdle. “And what was it you said your name was?”
“Cameron Kincaid. The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Montgomery. You’ll see that I own the controlling shares of stock in this company. My vote counts for more than all yours combined, and I vote for me.” He hands another legal brief over to Marcus and I hope to God it’s a lie.
A mistake.
This stranger can’t undo everything that Delilah had done.
Marcus fumes as he reads the pages of the legal brief. I hold out hope that he can do something about this that I can’t. “He now controls stock in the TTPA and…Delilah’s. Her will gave him everything.”
Merrill, Tracy, and Franklin start shouting all at once. More at each other than anything, but Merrill is the one who pushes his chair back from the table. “Delilah wouldn’t do that. She trusts me. I mean us. Mr. Kincaid, none of us have ever even heard of you.”
Cameron smiles. “I am something of an enigma, but I was a friend to Delilah. A good friend. You’ll find that everything is in order. Your lawyers will confirm that. Go ahead, let them go over every word of her will and our contracts. I have time.”
Despair hangs around me, but I can’t let it devour the group. My mom’s expression is withdrawn and Jax looks so far off, he might as well be in outer space. I guess I’m on my own.
“Then let me be the first to congratulate you.” I offer Cameron Kincaid my hand.
He pumps it briefly, but with a firm grasp. “My experience is in business, but Delilah trusted me. I know this is a tough time. Horrible, but I’d love to appoint you as my personal adviser, Lara. Together we can make sure the world is a safe place. For everyone.”
My spine tingles at the idea of spending any time alone with this man. Whoever he is, I don’t trust him. If he is Rex, then whatever game he is playing is just beginning.
“Good. Maybe we can grab breakfast tomorrow and I can pick your brain?” The way he smirks as he says it, makes my stomach roll over. I can’t even say anything as the color drains from my face.
If Marcus knows what I’m feeling, he doesn’t tip his hand. “Why don’t I show you around?” Marcus asks. “Delilah’s office is being combed over by the police right now, but I can get you setup in a temporary office for now.”
As Marcus leads him away, my strength returns, but just barely. “Oh yes,” Cameron says, “and I’d love a tour of the time travel monitoring room,” he laughs with his palms up, “I promise not to touch a thing.”
I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe what I suspect and I hope I’m wrong. Can this Cameron guy really be Rex?
Is he the one who had killed Delilah to grab control of the TTPA?
Mom and Jax stand. The way Jax shoves his hands into his pockets depicts his uneasiness. Mom puts her hand on my shoulder. “Did she ever mention him to you?”
My mouth dries. “No.” I need a glass of water badly. Vomit is making its way into my throat as it hits me that this might be my fault. Maybe this guy had been manipulating her and I didn’t know simply because I hadn’t been around. I’d pulled away from the TTPA because it represented the Rewind Agency and everything it stands for. Everything I hate.
Now look where we were.
“It’ll all work out,” Mom’s hopeful eyes widen into circular pools, “I’m sure of it.” She smiles tepidly at us and leaves to give us a moment.
Jax looks sheepish. If his dead brother is back somehow, I suspect he knows. I suppose that’s why he wants to talk. After all this time, hadn’t he learned his lesson about protecting his brother?
“I’ll take that coffee now, Jax.”
I think I’m prepared for what he’s about to tell me, but I’m not.
****
The walk to his office was short and silent. He pours us a cup of rich, dark coffee and the way he paces back and forth puts me on edge. It’s unlike him to be so nervous about something. Hell, he had kept the secret of my dad’s innocence to himself for ten years. Meanwhile, he had raised me, loved me as his own, and he had never batted an eyelash. He’s going to tell me something big and I don’t feel like sitting.
“You want to tell me what this is all about?”
Jax sips his coffee. Sliding behind his desk, he slips a key into the middle drawer. He pulls out a nondescript manila folder and slides it across the desk for me. “I didn’t want you to find out this way, but he….” Jax rolls his eyes up and sighs, “You need to know. It’s not my place, I know that, but if you’re left in the dark, I’m afraid you’ll make a horrible mistake.”
“I know he’s Rex. So, you can stop beating around the bush.” My cheeks flush with anger.
Jax’s face contorts with confusion. “What? Rex is dead, Lara. Are you feeling all right? You…he’s dead.”
“Then what are you…” I flip the manila folder open and my breath catches deep in my throat. It’s a surveillance photo taken outside the TTPA.
Donovan. Meeting with Delilah?
My face flushes and anger wells inside my chest. What is Jax trying to say? Does he think Donovan killed Delilah? “I don’t know what I’m looking at, but you’ve had Donovan under surveillance? Jax…” I take a deep breath and can’t go on. I need more support, not less, and I won’t have us Montgomerys fightin
g amongst ourselves.
Jax holds up his hand. “Pace yourself, please. Someone needed to do this and since I’m at the TTPA more than you, I hear things. I see things the others don’t. Lara, you must listen. With an open mind. Please.”
I don’t want my mind to be open to the possibility that Donovan is doing something he shouldn’t. That Jax can be so distrustful, that he’d allow suspicions to enter his brain, is extremely upsetting, but family is important to me. I won’t storm out on Jax even if he’s being deplorable. So, I cross my arms and struggle with my words. “Talk.”
Jax takes a deep breath. “If you flip through those records, you’ll see the data has holes in it. Dates and times where the time-travel monitoring system just…went offline. Was it just not working or did someone delete a spike here and there? Nobody knew, but there was talk. Delilah wasn’t perfect.”
My brow creases. “What’re you saying?”
“Two of these spikes,” Jax flips through the papers in the folder until he gets to a graph. He ticks off the empty spaces with a red pen. “Those spikes correlate to two of Don’s biggest investments. Big gambles that paid off. One three years ago and that one? Just last winter.”
My mouth falls open. “You…Don isn’t a time traveler. He hates time travel. He wouldn’t do it.” I stand up and slam the folder shut. “I expected more from you, Jax.” My cheeks flame.
“Don isn’t a time traveler. Of course he isn’t, but someone is.”
I grab my purse. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Donovan could’ve met Delilah for any number of reasons. “This is crazy.”
“I know what happened last night in the office, Lara.” Jax places a rolled-up towel on the desk. The shape is long, like a cylinder. I know what it is before he even unwraps it.
The assassin’s electrical stick.
“I took it out before the police could find it, but why Lara? Why would you hide this from everyone? If someone is traveling in time and the TTPA can’t track it, we’re all in big trouble. Big trouble.”
Snatching the electrical baton off the desk, I cradle it in my hand. “You think Donovan killed Delilah?”
Jax frowns. “Of course I don’t, but I think he knows more. Ask him yourself. Find out who he bought that information from. I guarantee he didn’t become a millionaire overnight without some strings attached. Maybe he can tell you who murdered Delilah Chase.”
Our wedding is just weeks away. It can’t be true that our life is built on a lie, a time-traveling building block about to crumble. Donovan wouldn’t do that to me. I’ll get to the bottom of the truth, one way or another.
But if I come out and ask him and it isn’t true…I might be ruining the very trust that has saved me all these years.
Jax’s face twists into a deep scowl. “What was that you were saying about Rex?”
“Nothing.” I’m breathless and give a shake of my head. “Forget it. Just been a stressful day.”
“I don’t buy that, Lara. You were white as a sheet when you brought him up. You think he’s here, don’t you?”
“Jax…” I can’t convince him he’s wrong. I’ve seen that look in his eye enough times to know what it means. “Don’t ask me anything else, please. Just stick close to Mom. Keep your head down and let me figure this out.”
Jax laughs with bitterness and sits on the edge of his desk. “Are you ever going to stop fixing all our problems?”
“If it’s Rex…if I’m right, he is my problem. Has been for a long time.”
His eyes sadden as he puts his hand on my shoulder. I feel his support and love stronger than ever. “I’ll have your back. Just be careful, Lara. Be careful.”
Chapter Eight
Donovan cooks us a gourmet meal. Lemon risotto and seared scallops with a side of wedge salad covered in crispy bacon and smooth blue cheese. He knows the way to my heart and this is it. We eat by the window and the view of the city takes my breath away. Everything shimmers in the moonlight glowing on the harbor, but my mind won’t rest.
It spins, out of control. I watch him take a bite, the way his hair falls over his forehead, just begging me to stroke it back, the crease line that deepens around his mouth while he chews his food with that trademark Donovan thoughtfulness. When he gazes up at me, he grabs his napkin and gives me a playful smile.
My heart aches. No…it’s as if my soul aches.
“Something on your mind, Lar?”
I shake my head but gaze out at the water. Where do I start? Do I tell him I suspect that tomorrow I’m having breakfast with Rex—my supposed dead uncle? Or do I start with Jax’s suspicions? If Jax is wrong, how do I explain why Jax is so suspicious of Donovan? We’re about to become family and once they had been friends. Once my step-dad had pushed me to date Donovan.
Now, suddenly everything is so different.
I stab at my salad. A river of blue cheese dressing runs down the wedge of iceberg lettuce as I slowly munch on it. I let the acidic flavor take over my senses. At least that’s something good I can focus on. Life had been going so great, but now I’m afraid I’m one train derailment away from my life ending up in the pits.
Donovan reaches across the table and takes my hand. “You can tell me whatever it is. Did something happen at the meeting today? Is that what you don’t want to talk about?”
I soak in his eyes and see everything I’ve always seen. Kindness, compassion, love. My walls come tumbling down and I trust him just as I always have. “They tried to appoint me to take Delilah’s place, temporarily.”
His eyes darken and he pulls his hand back. He straightens the collar of his shirt and the air between us cools. “You didn’t want that, did you?”
Did I? I know he didn’t.
Shaking my head, I lift my wine glass to my lips and take a slow, deliberate sip. “No, I didn’t, but I was willing to. Until Delilah’s lawyer showed up. She appointed someone to take her place. No one has heard of him, but now he’s our boss. I’m supposed to have breakfast with him tomorrow, so he can pick my brain.”
As if my mind hasn’t been picked enough.
“If Delilah trusted him, maybe that means you can trust him too.” Donovan smiles, but his eyes don’t crinkle. Is he holding something back? Or is he as uneasy about this as I am? It’s hard to guess someone’s motivations when you can’t jump backwards and forwards in time to double check everything all the time.
“Had you seen her recently?” I keep my voice level and rub my arms for warmth. I pick my fork back up and peer over at Donovan casually. Or at least I try to appear casual.
Don frowns and scrunches his eyebrows severely. “Just as much as you have.” He gathers up our plates and takes them into the kitchen.
When he leaves, my heart sinks. It's unlike him to leave a room in the middle of a conversation. That’s something the old Lara would have done.
Not Donovan.
I swallow some white wine before I follow him into the kitchen. The dishwasher is humming and Donovan fills the sink with soapy water. My heart is in my throat and the growing dread in my gut consumes me. “Does the name Cameron Kincaid mean anything to you?”
His hand that grips the sponge pauses. “No. Should it?”
I bite my lip and study his back as he hunches over the sink. For someone who supposedly has nothing to hide, he is sure acting as if he does. “Don’t give me a reason to doubt you, Don.”
He straightens up as he puts the plate in the drip-dry rack. “For some reason you think I know him, but I don’t. What has you so suspicious? You know me.”
Leaning forward, I turn the faucet off and as I stretch across him, I get a strong whiff of his aftershave. It slays me that—for whatever reason—Donovan would turn to deceit and lies. “Level with me.” My eyes fall into his and I see they are flecked with fear.
He doesn’t want to have this conversation, but he has no choice.
It has to come out. All of it. No matter what ‘it’ is.
“I’ve heard the name. I me
t him, sure. At an event, but it wasn’t a big conspiracy, Lar.” Donovan turns around and leans against the counter. He fidgets with the green tea towel in his hand, as if, somehow, it’s going to give him the strength to move on. “Six months ago, we met. He was friendly. Seemed nice.”
“And that’s it?” My heart lifts with hope, but my stomach claws with grief. He’s lying. I know it.
Donovan wipes his hands before he takes mine. “Look, you’ve been through a lot since last night. It’s no wonder your mind is spinning. If you’re looking for a smoking gun, a bad guy, you’re not going to find it in me.” He nuzzles my cheek and gives me a kiss.
I should trust him, but I can’t let it go. He’d seen Delilah last week; why not bring it up? Why not mention it?
“Didn’t you see Delilah last week? Didn’t you meet her outside of Rewind?” My stomach sinks just to have to ask those questions. I don’t want to rip us apart. I don’t.
But I need to know.
For an all-too-brief moment, Donovan’s eyes narrow. When they open back up and a relaxed smile spreads across his face. “Who told you that?”
My eyes moisten, but I don’t give into the rush of pain welling in my chest. “Why didn’t you just tell me? She died yesterday and you had seen her…was she okay? Did she call you?”
Donovan sighs and gazes away. “It wasn’t like that, okay?”
“Then what was it like?”
He blinks and I feel like he’s drifting further away. He’s pulling away from shore and I’m left standing on the beach, longing for the truth—for him. “I didn’t want you to find out, all right? Let’s just leave it at that.”
Donovan moves past me and I grab his hand. “You can’t just walk away. We can’t leave it like this. I thought we learned our lesson about secrets.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be a secret.” Donovan squeezes his eyes and sighs. The worry lines on his face increase tenfold. He’s struggling with something. Struggling. “Lara, I love you. I love you. So please…” His lips quiver, “Please. Let this go.”