* * *
Women in elegant gowns and men in tuxedos strolled beneath the chandeliers in the parquet ballroom. They talked, laughed, mingled.
“Here you are!” Something cool slipped into my hand. “Martini with a twist.”
I looked up. Todd, his hair tousled, his shirt open at the collar, smiled down at me. Glorious! He looked like--George Clooney?
“I don’t drink martinis.” I held it out to him.
“Sure, you do. Ever since I’ve known you.”
“Todd, you’ve known me for three years. I like shots, not martinis.”
A couple strolled past us and nodded.
I looked around. “Who are these people and where are we?”
“Home.”
“Whose?”
“Ours.”
“Ha! Since when?”
“We moved in three years ago.” He eyed me. “You better start remembering things, or I’m going to wonder about you.”
“I remember plenty. This isn’t my home, and I don’t live with you.”
Gently, he lifted my hand.
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. The hand was smooth and manicured. My hand? A diamond the size of an egg rested on my ring finger. My diamond?
I pulled my hand from his. “What happened? How did I get this ring? Did you give it to me?” I whispered in a strained voice.
Across the room, a large mirror hung on the wall. I stopped and stared. Was that me? My blond hair was tied into a chignon at the nape of my neck. A large diamond pendant hung from my neck. A strapless pink gown showed golden tanned skin and toned arms. I shook my head and turned away.
“I gave the diamond to you after I sold my first patent.”
A server with a tray of canapés glided past us. He whipped two off the tray and handed one to me. I pushed it away.
“I killed two people. Why am I not in jail?” I asked Todd.
“Ah.” Todd’s face brightened. He slipped his iPhone from his vest pocket, and slid his finger across the screen. He handed the phone to me.
I stared at the screen. A picture of the embattled Bentley spread across the top. There were no bodies. But I was sure the dark splashes on the car were blood.
The article talked about a crazed woman with a gun who vanished into midair.
Slowly I lowered the iPhone. “I did it. I killed them. And I got away with murder?”
“How does that make you feel?”
“I don’t know.” I looked about. “I have this glorious life. I’m rich. It’s like I have my own reality show.” I lifted an eyebrow. “Do I?”
“Nope. You can’t have everything.”
“But, I do have everything. I killed Chuck and Vivian. That’s all I wanted. And that means you married a murderer. How could you?”
His mouth twisted. He almost looked sad.
Where my heart should’ve been pulsed emptiness the size of a black hole. I wanted my heart back.
“I don’t want Chuck and Vivian to be dead anymore.” I shoved the martini at him. “Where’s the time machine?”
“What? You mean you’re going back?”
“I have to. I have what I want, and I don’t want it anymore.”
“Follow me.”
“Are you going, too?” I rushed after him.
“No, you’re going to do this by yourself.”
People greeted us as we whisked past them. Todd strode down the hall, through a catwalk and down a flight of stairs. I sped after him in heels that pinched my toes and made me cringe.
At the bottom of the stairs, Todd pressed a button. A door slid open. There sat the time machine. A little worn, but it would give me what I wanted.
He opened the cover. I climbed inside. He started to close it. I grabbed his hand.
“When I come back, will you be nerdy again?”
“Just like before.”
I looked around. For a brief moment, Chuck and Vivian were dead, and I was rich. I had everything I wanted.
“You never did tell me where you went in the time machine,” I said.
“You already know. I went to save you.”
“Save. I like that word.” I squeezed his hand and settled into the seat. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Bon voyage, mon chéri.”
He lowered the lid. Smoke filled the compartment. I was on my way to correct the past, do the right thing. Letting Chuck and Vivian live their happy life was the right thing to do.
Unfortunately.
Murder the Past Page 2