by Chris Lange
He wore black, tight leather pants, a brown vest with golden embroidery over a white shirt, and a black tie. Around his waist, a leather gun belt with bullet holes held a Colt hanging from a holster on his hip.
She’d watched too many movies not to be impressed, and she instantly labeled him as a bad boy from the Wild West. Her amazement caused her to stare at him openly when Garrett presented him.
“Miss Richardson, allow me to introduce Mister Jake Cooper. A gunslinger and agent of the United States.”
The man working for the government deepened his smile while he bent over her extended hand.
“Well now, If His Highness starts throwing my titles around, we should spend a quite pleasant evening.”
The slightest hesitation stalled her as his tone verged on irony, but he looked so foxy that she let it go.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mister Cooper.”
She couldn’t believe she was meeting a real gunslinger from the Old West. If she hadn’t been so anxious about her dad, she’d have fully enjoyed all the fantastic things happening to her, from the noisy, muddy streets of 1899 San Francisco right down to this fabulous mansion and its guests.
“The pleasure is mine.”
He raised her hand to his mouth again, letting his sensual lips linger a little too long on her skin.
“My friends call me Jay, and I can already say without a doubt that you and I are going to be very good friends.”
Letting go of her hand, the bad boy winked at her before proffering a devilish smile. She felt a tightening in Garrett’s grip on her forearm. He didn’t appear to like this warm greeting in the least.
Or maybe being called His Highness by a cheeky cowboy wasn’t his idea of a good joke. Whatever, anyone in a one mile radius could have figured out the two men were at daggers drawn.
“Good God, Jake.”
Weedon’s exclamation interrupted the stare down. He set his glass down on the table and motioned at her.
“Tracy has just arrived. Don’t start on her.”
“Where are your manners, Welsh? A beautiful lady must be treated with the utmost respect. I wouldn’t dream of—how did you put it?—starting on her.”
The handsome gunslinger sounded offended, but she had a hard time telling if the tone was real or teasing.
“I take it you don’t think I’m beautiful? That isn’t very flattering.”
Startled, Tracy shifted her gaze to the young woman standing beside Jake who seemed displeased and pained by the gunslinger’s flirting behavior.
Jake Cooper pivoted toward the slighted lady, took her chin between his fingers, and raised it a little.
“Don’t be jealous, dearest. You know you’re the one and only.”
His words might have passed for romantic if not for the mocking tone that prompted the girl to stretch her neck. Garrett continued his shortened introductions, probably to lighten the bizarre atmosphere lingering in the room.
“Miss Richardson, this is Jessica Harring. She’s a private agent as well as daughter of the infamous vampire hunter Gabriel Harring.”
A vampire hunter? Did vampires really exist in this parallel world? Given that none of them seemed shocked at the mention of fictional creatures of the night, she finally understood her dad’s reference to unlikely characters.
“Will you stop teasing me, Garrett?” Jessica said. “I’m glad to meet you, Tracy.”
“Likewise.”
The girl’s direct gaze moved off her to settle on the men, with the exclusion of Jake Cooper.
“Father can’t be here tonight,” Jessica said, “so I’ll act as his representative. He sends his regards and wishes he could be with us, but he must remain in London for the time being. The last I heard, Count Dracula was on the move again, and Dad’s about to follow his trail.”
Count Dracula? Tracy mentally scoffed. Seriously? Her own father rightly assessed this universe, without doubt filled with extravagant and colorful characters. Adoring the idea of mingling with them, she paid attention to the hunter’s daughter.
Dressed in a similar fashion to herself, Jessica’s long, pink dress flowed in sparkling swathes around her, encrusted with tiny stones. She was a stunning young woman, although she oozed strength and harshness. Watching her speaking to Garrett, Tracy felt an alien pang of jealousy stab through her.
They all talked over dinner, the locals getting to know her while becoming reacquainted with each other. When Jake Cooper didn’t focus his increasingly annoying attention on her, small talk flowed, easy and relaxing after such an uncommon day. The meal proved first-class, delicious roast and vegetables followed by an outstanding cake.
But after a butler brought dessert, the bad boy began to drown her in flattery, making everyone uncomfortable again. A grim Jessica picked at her food while Garrett’s frown became deeper by the minute.
Attuned to the heavy atmosphere, Tracy leaned toward Weedon on her left, asking the question for his ears only. “What’s with Garrett and Jake?”
Weedon’s gaze fixed on the gunslinger’s face. He shrugged before bringing his lips a little closer to her ear. “They used to be good friends. Something went on between them recently, but I don’t know what, and I didn’t probe. That’s Garrett’s business, you know, but since then, they’ve been either avoiding each other or bickering over trifles. I don’t want to take sides, but I must admit Jake hasn’t been himself lately.”
“How so?”
“How can I put this? He’s always been charming with women, but never intrusive like he can be now. He met Jessica the year before last, and they fell in love right off. Mind you, I’d never seen Jake in love before. I was back in Yukon Territory when I got word that he’d proposed. When I returned from Canada last week, they weren’t married and they argued most of the time.”
When a troubling thought crossed her mind, she prayed Weedon would give her a negative answer. “So, is Jessica in love with Garrett now?”
A mischievous glint lighting his eyes, Weedon observed her for a long second before grinning. “No. They get on well but, if you want my opinion, she regards him as a big brother, nothing more. Besides, she’s not Garrett’s type.”
Relief washed over her. Her heart stuttered, urging her to wonder about the cause of this abrupt emotion that she pushed away. “Whose type is she?”
“Jess is a warrior, and she’s been raised to fight. As long as the job gets done, she gives no care to etiquette. High-and-mighty people shun her because she lives like a man, but I assure you she’s an extraordinary woman. It’s no surprise Jake fell for her. I have the impression they’re still together, but I can’t really say.”
She didn’t have time to ponder his words. Instead of taking care of Jessica, Jake put his hand over hers and gawked at her breasts. The man was exasperating.
Seeing this tactical maneuver, Garrett banged his plate on the table, breaking a glass in the process, his features taut with frustration and impatience.
Chapter 6
Tracy jumped up at the loud sound.
Heedless of his irritated reaction, Garrett observed his guests with intent before looking at her. “Miss Richardson, it’s high time we tell you about us. The hosts around this table are the members of a clandestine society founded by your father. He named it ‘The Circle’ after enlisting us. We have pledged to keep his work secret and to protect it at all costs. To protect it with our lives if need shall arise.”
His gaze swept the room while they all nodded, but her.
She shook her head. A clandestine society named The Circle? Wow, just wow. Trying not to look too obvious, she studied them one by one: the man she’d been told to trust, the companion from the north and his wolfdog, the dubious gunslinger, and the lovely daughter of a vampire hunter.
Watching them, a large
r picture formed in her mind. The importance of her father’s invention prompted him to shield it because this risky and unsafe device posed a threat in the wrong hands. Right now, she might be in the wrong hands herself, but looking at Garrett’s inscrutable face, she didn’t think so. He was abrupt, inflexible, but also reliable, and her dad hadn’t mistaken that trait in him.
“I bring new intelligence provided by Miss Richardson,” Garrett said. “The person responsible for William’s abduction wants the painting in exchange for his life. We must strike a deal.”
“What painting?” she asked.
Her question didn’t get an answer. Thanks, guys, am I invisible to you? She’d remember if they had discussed art earlier, and she didn’t recall providing any kind of intelligence either. Yet his words seemed crystal clear to everyone in the room, and the tacit complicity uniting its members began to get on her nerves.
Jake Cooper traced a faint straight line on the tablecloth with his knife, a grave expression tainting his features, and shook his head. “That’s impossible. The painting’s disappeared.”
“Not disappeared. Stored in a safe place.” Garrett seemed so sure of his facts that the gunslinger’s expression turned even darker.
Jake shifted in his seat. “That’s all very good but it doesn’t change a damn thing as long as William isn’t around to tell us where it is.”
“He told me.”
This supported the theory that her dad trusted Garrett more than anyone else. Still, it didn’t answer her question.
“What painting?” Tracy asked.
What did a girl have to do to be heard around here? Throw a chair against the table? Scream at the top of her lungs?
Jake’s attention remained fixed on Garrett as everyone continued to ignore her. “Do you mean to say you’re aware of its location?”
“I most certainly am.” Garrett seemed sure as hell.
Beside her, Weedon fidgeted in his chair, cheeks colored with excitement. “Tell us, man. Where is it?”
Enough was enough. If none of them took three seconds to indulge her, she just might bang her fist on the table like Garrett did.
“What painting?” Tracy asked again. Third time better be the charm because she also had the option of storming out of the dining room and letting them debate the question of the mysterious artwork without her. Not that any of them would care. They really didn’t seem to need her, nor the mysterious means she supposedly had.
Finally, the master of the mansion noticed her pursed lips, irritated stare, and maybe the scowl on her face.
“My apologies, Miss Richardson,” Garrett said. “Perhaps I should explain.”
“Perhaps you should,” she retorted, “though you’ve done a fine job up to now.”
Although peeved, her heart beat faster as soon as Garrett rested his gaze on her. She waved her hand and sighed. “Please, continue.” She wriggled her fingers.
Garrett cleared his throat before resuming his elucidation. “The Everett program was originally designed to grant access to the telepods solely to your father, your mother, and yourself. Ultimately, William also wished to enable the members of The Circle to use his invention safely.”
Her dad’s idea made sense. These people were his friends so why wouldn’t he let them play with his toys? Unaware of her train of thought, Garrett continued.
“However, sensing his work was on the verge of being discovered and misused, William created a safety catch to lock down the Everett program. Without it, no one can cross over between our worlds. Unfortunately, he was abducted before he could disclose the nature of the safety catch.”
Her own trip this very morning springing to mind, she swallowed and dropped her nervous hands on her lap. “Assuming someone tried to employ the telepods without this . . . thing, what do you think would happen?”
Garrett faced her. “I can only speculate that person would either fail in the attempt or die.”
She cringed, one of her hands dropping to her thigh to scratch the dress. Good thing she’d been unaware of the existence of this safety catch or she might not have entered the telepod so readily. Relying on a computer felt too tricky for her taste, even a program designed by her genius of a father.
“Okay,” she said, “I don’t want to be the one to ruin your extraordinary theory, but I used the telepod today. I don’t have a clue about the safety catch, yet, hey there”—she waved her hands—”I’m still very much alive.”
“That’s because the safety catch hasn’t been integrated into the program yet,” Garrett said. “William needed more time to finalize the process. To keep it safe for a few days, he hid the safety in his favorite painting. Then he disappeared.”
“His favorite painting . . .” She paused. This time, none of the guests butted in while she probed her memory then continued. “As I recall, it’s a beautiful piece of work by Edwin Deakin, depicting an old hotel on a snowy night. I remember, this painting used to hang in our living room. Yes, that’s it, and the name was . . .”
“‘Christmas Morning,’” Jessica provided.
Yes, exactly. Excitement heating her cheeks, Tracy smiled her thanks at Jessica before turning her attention back to Garrett. “But I didn’t tell you anything about a painting. There must be a mix-up.”
Tracy searched her recollections for more clues. As understanding dawned on her, she winced. “His Christmas gift, of course. God, that one was farfetched. The guy you’re looking for is a joker, isn’t he?”
“The clue must have been intended,” Garrett said. “Whoever he is, he’ll go to any lengths to acquire the painting. Assuming he’s perfectly aware that the safety catch is essential, it means your father is safe for the time being.”
Jake threw his napkin on the table. “All right, the guy’s a clown. But damn it, Garrett, are you going to play Almighty for much longer? Tell us where it is.”
“Here in California. Gold Run to be precise.”
Drawing the napkin back toward him as though he wanted to take back his impetuous throw, Jake looked surprised. “That location is quite far away. Are you sure you’re not mistaken? There are so many places closer to home he could have picked.”
“Indeed, Jake,” Garrett said, “although I must say there’s a good reason for William’s choice. A few years ago, he purchased a mine in Gold Run, for he had found in that location what he called ‘a complex’ and ‘weird robotics.’”
Tracy frowned. Her dad’s mysterious life in this world kept growing and growing. What would come next? Finding out he got married in Las Vegas to a retired casino card dealer and fathered a dozen kids? Unwilling to go down that alley, she refrained from sighing and licked her lips before gazing at Garrett. “What kind of complex?” she asked. “Is it like a secret lab?”
What appeared to be a brief smile slipped across Garrett’s lips before he replied, “I haven’t been there myself, but I know he had materials brought in from your dimension. Which is why I believe that you, Miss Richardson . . .”
The breath caught in her throat and her mouth dried up when his lecturing composure shifted to keen interest as he looked at her pointedly. “You have a pivotal role in entering the complex.”
Garrett might well see a link between her world and the mysterious means giving access to the complex, but she didn’t. As a matter of fact, she felt kind of blind and lost in the intricacy of her dad’s brain.
“Should we consider ourselves lucky or doomed?” Jessica smiled at her with such vitality that Tracy wondered why Jake Cooper didn’t marry the woman when he had the chance.
“Sorry, why?” Tracy asked.
“I’m just saying, your father seems as secretive and eccentric as mine,” Jessica replied.
As much as she didn’t want to, Tracy had to agree with her. True, a mad scientist versus a blood sucker h
unter. What a lovely couple. Yet, the mention of her dad’s eccentricity reminded her of the silver necklace and the precise, unequivocal instructions he’d attached to it.
The necklace might well be important to enter the complex. She didn’t possess anything else, but she didn’t dare voice her hypothesis right then because her father’s life was at stake. But not just that.
Her instincts never let her down. She’d follow them, even though she sort of perceived herself like a betrayer amongst a circle of friends. Because, to her dismay, her instincts didn’t trust Jake Cooper.
“How are we going to get to Gold Run?” she asked.
Reluctant to consider the possibility of a ride on horseback, she nonetheless figured a jet was out of the question.
Jake, ever the gunslinger, stood up to strike a pose, his hand on his heart. “My dear lady, my train is at your entire disposal as of this moment. It will take you around the world, if need be.”
Given a skull and a sword, the man could have played Shakespeare in the most famous theaters. He was funny in a ridiculous kind of way, yet Tracy sensed Jessica’s hurt from across the table.
The young woman seemed so nice and obviously still in love with the jackass that it was hard to fathom what she saw in Jake. Or what she thought she’d seen.
Garrett also pushed his chair back. “Very well, thus the matter is settled. We shall depart for Gold Run tomorrow morning at dawn. Any objections?”
When there were none, he got to his feet, walked to the door of the dining room, and bowed in turn to her and Jessica.
“We ought to take some rest. Goodnight, ladies. Weedon, may I have a word with you in the parlor?”
“Absolutely.”