Threshold of Danger (A Guardian Time Travel Novel Book 1)

by Rachel Trautmiller

  "Do you think she went to Avila?" Elliot had met her inside the ICU, his smile diminishing as she neared. As if he knew exactly how her morning had played out. Everything from Haley's revelations to Jeff's appearance at Hope Alive.

  There were dark circles under his eyes and concern quickly spread across his face, but he'd handed her a cup of tea as if they'd spent years in each other's company doing exactly this kind of thing.

  In two years of marriage, Jeff had never been attuned to her. It had never bothered her because saying "I do" didn't make a magical window open up to the other person's soul. True understanding took time.

  Or maybe it took the right kind of person.

  She'd never really gotten him, either. Never needed to rush home and tell him about her day. Wonder about his. Text him something funny. Call him when she was angry because she knew he'd calm her down.

  They'd dated. He'd asked her to marry him. She'd said yes with little actual thought. They had similar interests and he'd known her family for years. And minus a few moments—Haley's assault and subsequent drinking among them—she'd always dealt with whatever life threw at her on her own.

  He'd never attempted to break through that barrier. She wouldn't have let it happen. Not when there was so much of herself she kept hidden. That she had to keep hidden. Jeff never would've understood absorbing and slingshotting. He would've needed the hard lines of evidence to back it all up, and this was one case she couldn't produce evidence on.

  She'd always figured someday—a decade down the road—she'd maybe open up. Find a way to show him that wouldn't be so traumatic. Then Haley had been assaulted and the two had dueled in a silent feud the remainder of the time Sam and Jeff had been married.

  And suddenly that black-and-white, needs-to-be-by-the-book guy disintegrated. At least in respect to their marriage.

  So the fact that he'd lied—omitted, embellished, whatever term he wanted to use—about the night of Haley's assault took the remaining picture she had of him and set it aflame.

  Had she ever really known anything about Jeff?

  "Sam." A warm hand found her back, the slight twang in Elliot's voice going straight to her head. The contact sent a shot of awareness right to her stomach. His hand moved down her arm and found her fingers, his larger ones threading through hers. He gave a squeeze that made her want to grasp onto him and never let go.

  But that was the lack of sleep talking. The danger. The adrenaline. The revelations. She wasn't about to advance on something that was situational. When this was over, he'd go back to flying fighter jets and she'd have the next case. Things would naturally fizzle out from there.

  So she returned the squeeze and untangled her fingers from his even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. "I don't think she's in Avila."

  "You didn't see her—" He tucked his lips inward, his body language not changing a fraction, but she was aware of his scan of the people around them. The nurses inside Claudia's room spoke with her husband. Captain Simon Riley talked with one of the doctors at the nurses station. There was a woman down the hall coming out of the public restroom.

  "No. I didn't anticipate it happening. She opened up a little bit. Back at Hope Alive. It wasn't much, but I..." Sam had been suckered in by the rare show of openness. Haley's version of it anyway. Had stupidly assumed her sister would follow her up to Claudia's room and shed a few more secrets. She'd assumed Haley would walk inside a hospital where she'd been held at gunpoint.

  And why not? Haley had always been the fearless one. Or maybe that had been an act. A persona she portrayed to keep her demons at bay.

  Sam shook her head. "I wasn't thinking. I wouldn't have come back here either." She had to find her. "What if Ryan is the reason she wanted you to keep an eye on me? What if Ryan is the reason she's been on your couch?"

  Elliot worked his jaw. "Over a hearing device?"

  Over homelessness and the threat of death. "That's her story."

  "Part of it." Simon came to stand next to them, his arms folded across his chest. His gaze was straight ahead and focused on Claudia. "I picked her up in Old Town Clovis last night as she was talking to Ryan Henderson."

  What the...? No. "Why did you say it like that?"

  "Because I don't think we have all the information we should. And for some reason, Ryan Henderson would love nothing better than to see your sister dead."

  Sam couldn't argue with that. Not after yesterday.

  "But it would appear the feeling is mutual. And she's claiming it's his FDA approval. I don't buy it. He claims she threatened him yesterday inside this hospital."

  The white-hot knife of anger flashed through her. She opened her mouth.

  "Have you found anything to support that?" Elliot's voice was calm, not a hint that he was experiencing the storm Sam had boiling in her system.

  "If she did it, it's nowhere on camera. Which either means she's smart—she's lived several years overseas in war zones, so it's not out of the question—or it didn't happen."

  Sam wanted to scream the truth at him. She held still. She didn't know what had conspired between Ryan and Haley prior to the stairs. Perhaps he'd found out that Haley had been in contact with Anne. Or maybe Haley had goaded him into losing his temper. Chasing her down.

  Whatever her sister had done or not done, she didn't deserve a bullet. And Sam couldn't explain how they'd escaped Ryan. Elliot couldn't explain it. There was no way to know what Ryan remembered of the events. If they'd changed something...

  What would Simon do with the information? He and Elliot had known each other a long time, but that didn't mean Elliot had shared his private world with him. It didn't mean Simon would stick up for something he couldn't fully understand.

  "It's a very serious accusation stacked on top of an already precarious situation that Haley has found herself in."

  "You've obviously met Ryan." Elliot turned toward Simon, his face a mask of calm, but his jaw clenched and unclenched in rapid succession.

  Simon mirrored his stance. "And I've met Haley. Right now the evidence suggests she likely did point a gun a Ryan. Plus she likely tried to shoot you both yesterday."

  Shock blasted through Sam. Haley's swollen eyes and careful distance this morning popped into her mind. The way her sister had seemed to want to crack the exterior of her normally closed self all the way open, but hadn't.

  The way Jeff had come into Hope Alive as if awaiting danger. From Haley.

  Anne had warned Haley. Whoever gets involved will be in danger...

  Beside her, both men continued the verbal backlash. Simon said something Sam couldn't latch onto. Elliot responded.

  Sam watched as the nurses helped Claudia into a sitting position. She reached for her husband with a hand snaked with tubes. Her mouth moved in a slow rhythm, then her gaze met Sam.

  The woman had answers. A story Haley would chase with little regard to herself.

  Haley, who hadn't shot at Sam. If she had—if she wanted Sam out of the picture, she would've thrust the information about Anne into Sam's lap. Let the bricks fall. And Sam would be in Avila searching for clues right now.

  If Haley wanted her dead, there had been ample opportunity in the last day alone.

  Haley hadn't done one thing to harm Sam. She'd been that twelve-year-old holding Sam's hand as a sea of black surrounded their mother's grave. A brave face when the Colonel left them. When the grim faces of that black sea offered condolences that meant nothing to young children. Children who'd only wanted their mother to appear and announce that this was all a nightmare. Haley had held Sam's hand tighter. Pulled her to her side, a promise in those motions.

  There'd been no one offering that to Haley.

  She halted the men's debating. "Haley is a lot of things. Destructive. Lost. A glory chaser. In love with a story. Stuck in her head." She made eye contact with both of them. "She didn't shoot at me, but if she did, she had a good reason."

  "That makes her dangerous." Simon worked his jaw, the words co
ming slow and calm. "And it makes you a little too trusting, Sam."

  The truth slammed into her. Washed all her anger away. "You don't think she did it."

  One of his dark eyebrows moved upward. "How do you figure?"

  "If you did—one hundred percent, no question—you would've booked her already." There were no doubts in Sam's heart about that. Simon exemplified absolute dedication and commitment when it came to his job. She'd heard Jeff talk about it. About his need for excellence in relation to their crime scenes. She'd seen in it action. Simon was as much about the details and the proof as Jeff, but he had something more. The desire to go one step farther. "Since you haven't, there's a reasonable amount of doubt in your mind about my sister even if the evidence stacks up."

  A grim emotion passed over Elliot's face, his gaze flicking to Simon. "Does it?"

  Simon remained silent.

  And maybe a few years ago—heck, even a few weeks ago—Sam would've said they were placing too much faith in Haley's innocence. In her will to thrive. In the high probability that she would find the cheapest alcohol and the worst company and bulldoze through whatever was left of her life.

  This was different.

  There was something deeper going on with her sister. She was pregnant. She was sober. She was chasing a story again. This time, Sam got to be the one holding her hand. Protecting. Offering comfort.

  And if she was wrong—if it was anything other than Haley was caught in a situation she hadn't orchestrated—Sam would deal with the fallout.

  "You know how Jeff found Haley the night of her assault?"

  Simon stilled. "Sure."

  "I've got evidence that proves otherwise. Know who else has had that evidence? My sister. Know what she hasn't done? Tried to confront him or harm him in any way."

  "That you're aware of." Simon's voice was stern.

  "Keep your lieutenant away from me and my sister. If you need to verify Haley's whereabouts or arrest her, send someone else." She moved toward Claudia's room. Claudia's husband emerged from behind the glass of the ICU cubicle and headed toward them.

  "Sam." There was a warning in Elliot's voice—a plea for her to slow down. To take a moment to process before proceeding.

  She glanced back at him. "We all have our danger to choose. This isn't the warehouse, Elliot."

  He shook his head. "It's the moments leading up to it."

  Maybe. Maybe not. This time there wouldn't be a lack of communication. Her gaze hit Simon. "My sister didn't threaten Ryan. I know, because I was there."

  Mr. Morris approached with a hand already extended in a handshake. His grip encompassed Sam's entire hand. It stole her complete attention.

  "I'm glad you're here, Sam. My wife—she'd like to talk to you."

  "I'd be honored." She followed the older man to the room. The nurses exited, and then Mr. Morris indicated she should enter ahead of him. He shut the door after her, staying outside with the men in the hall.

  Sam approached the bed.

  "You're Samantha Billings?" Claudia's voice was soft.

  "Yes." She took a breath. Tried to clear her mind of everything except the woman in front of her. If they were going to find Anne, she needed her brain working on all cylinders. "I wish we were meeting under different circumstances. Regardless, it's a pleasure to do so."

  The older woman held out her hand. There were bruises along her wrist. An IV at the inside of her elbow.

  Sam grasped Claudia's fingers. "I've heard your daughter has an amazing voice and is a child prodigy with the piano."

  Claudia gave a small smile. "That girl might as well have come out of the womb with a keyboard and microphone. When she was little, she'd sing all day sometimes."

  Sam remembered that tidbit from one of Haley's articles. "I'll do everything I can to bring Anne home. Can you tell me anything about what happened before you ended up in my office?"

  Like the five months she'd been presumed dead.

  Claudia closed her eyes, shook her head, and then opened them again. "I already told the gentleman out there—" She pointed toward Simon. "That everything is very hazy."

  "I'm sure he mentioned that you've been gone six months. Five of those months, the world thought you were dead. Your family buried you. We had a man arraigned for your murder."

  "From what my husband tells me, he committed suicide." Claudia winced as if the idea hurt to contemplate. "I assure you that it had nothing to do with me or my daughter."

  "Did Captain Riley show you a picture of Harper Valencourt?" If her memory was hazy, did she even remember giving Sam Theo's dog tags? Did she remember how she'd made it to Hope Alive?

  Six months was a long time to hold onto details under duress.

  "The picture of Mr. Valencourt won't help, Samantha."

  "Call me Sam." She patted the woman's hand. "When you came into the office yesterday, you collapsed. Before you did, you gave me a set of dog tags. Where did you get them?"

  A wrinkle formed in Claudia's brow. "Who do they belong to?"

  "A man named Theo Trenton." Sam took a breath. Waited for the inevitable guilt to settle in like it always did. Theo, missing out on his children's lives. His wife's. All because Sam hadn't been there when she needed to.

  "I don't remember having his dog tags. They would've gone to his wife after the funeral."

  Yet Claudia had them.

  "Any information you remember will help us bring Anne home. By two separate accounts, she's alive. She was last sighted at Avila Beach." And Sam couldn't understand how Anne coming home—being with her family—could be bad. Or dangerous.

  Unless...

  "My daughter—" A rough cough interrupted her and she held up a hand.

  Sam offered her the water on her bedside table.

  Claudia took it and had a small sip. "If you bring her home, she will die."

  She won't come home. She says it's dangerous.

  "What do you mean? We can protect her. We can stop whoever did this to you both."

  "You can't. You'll try, I know you will. Anything else is failure to someone like you."

  Yes. It absolutely was. Sam wouldn't allow it, much like she wouldn't allow some prestigious overprivileged doctor to twist the story with Haley.

  "But the people who want her are people who will never rest."

  "You know them?"

  Claudia let out a small laugh before cringing. "No. That's the problem." She shifted. "They are like cockroaches. When one is squashed another rises up. They survive every disaster. They know what they want—who they want. They know what my daughter is capable of. What you are also capable of."

  What?

  Everything in Sam froze. She knew better than to offer any emotion. Something the Colonel had taught her well. Maybe for good reason. "I'm not following you."

  "My daughter is like you. Like your sister. That is valuable. You are a rare commodity. And they'll kill anyone who gets in the way."

  Anne could travel in time?

  Elliot's warning popped into her mind. If they could see someone absorb or slingshot or sleepwalk, imagine what they could accomplish.

  Except she didn't have to imagine, because they'd done it last night. She'd followed Elliot into an absorption. Garnered information she'd not previously had and not one person in the past had noticed her.

  Different information, in the wrong hands...

  No.

  "I don't need to see a picture of Mr. Valencourt, because I already know he had nothing to do with any of this."

  Then why had he taken his own life? "He described the scene—how he abducted you—in detail."

  Sam had seen pictures of Claudia's corpse. The crime scene. Simon and his crew had physically seen it—Jeff had talked about it with Sam even though she'd been trying to distance herself after the divorce. Claudia's body had been so dismembered, she'd been identified by dental records. Yet, here she was—completely whole. Nothing made sense. She had to get the story from Claudia.

  "You haven
't seen a picture of him. Haven't—"

  "I know...because six months ago your sister took us to Shaver Lake."

  ____

  Simon had driven away from the hospital, thoughts piercing him like bullets.

  There's a reasonable amount of doubt...

  Of course there was. There had to be. That was the only reason Simon wasn't booking Haley. Why he intended to have a very serious conversation with his lieutenant.

  You know how Jeff found Haley the night of her assault?

  There were reports. His lieutenant was one of the most straightlaced people Simon knew. And Sam wasn't one to throw accusations around.

  Because if Haley had that proof in her arsenal, history dictated she would have used it. So, why hadn't she? Why hadn't she destroyed Jeff over the incident?

  Why hadn't she come forward with the evidence?

  You know why.

  The doubt—all of it—was the only reason he was parked outside Fresno's historic Warehouse Row. Why he'd debated getting out of the car for a good five minutes. Scanned the old industrial area now saturated with crime caused, in majority, by the city's homeless. Robberies as people exited the nearby Amtrak or busses. Their cars.

  He'd noted the scraggly man on the corner eying his unmarked cruiser, hands in the pockets of the pants that sagged from the man's thin, dirty frame. He wore a filthy and stained tank top.

  Simon had stepped from his car at that point. Kept eye contact. The other man had turned and headed south and out of sight. Not that Simon considered him gone.

  He'd been more concerned about finding Haley.

  And when everything inside him was screaming about bad ideas, all he could see was Claudia Morris' very-alive face. Harper Valencourt's brain matter splattered on the wall inside an interview room. Sam when she relayed information he'd already heard from Claudia—Harper Valencourt was innocent of the crime he'd confessed to. The fear and determination on Haley's face as she slammed a car door into Ryan Henderson. The gripping anxiety when Kent Morris thanked her profusely for joining the search for Anne. Her snappy tone this morning when she'd called to check in.

  I'm here, okay. Don't get crazy and send out a search crew. That only wastes time and money.