by Rachel Ford
He grinned, adding a few minutes later, “If I’m going to give up on a beach body, I might as well go the whole nine yards.”
Chapter Five
Alfred was waiting nervously when Nance got home. So far, he hadn’t been visited by any future versions of himself, but he couldn’t help worrying as soon as she was out of his sight. He was relieved to see her pull in, as alive as ever, and he greeted her with a kiss that expressed some of that relief.
She seemed surprised by the expression of ardor, observing, “Well you’re in a good mood today.”
“How could I not be, when you’re around?”
“You are really laying it on thick,” she grinned, nudging him. “Keep it up.”
They ate, and most of the conversation was spent talking about Josh’s interview. It had gone well, from the sounds of it. Alfred wasn’t particularly interested, but he nodded along and mustered enough enthusiasm to get through.
“Oh, and he found an alien show. I’d mentioned that we’d been watching some of them, so he picked it up. It looks awful.”
“My favorite kind.”
She shook her head and smiled. “You want to see it, after dinner?”
“I’d rather talk about the costume.”
She nodded. “Can’t wait to try on those pointy ears, huh?”
He could, of course, but the idea was to wrap her up in something other than work. “By the way,” he wondered, “did you get that stuff you needed to finish done?”
“Well,” she sighed, “basically. To be honest, I gave it more a passing over than I probably should have, but everything looked good. So I’m sure it’s fine.”
“What was it, anyway?”
“Just verifying IP’s for an audit.”
“Ah.” Alfred felt his heart rate pick up. That’s what his time travelling twin had said, wasn’t it?
“But, we need to find you a uniform. And make sure it will ship in time.”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
They’d just started pulling up sites when Nance’s phone dinged. A series of messages popped up. “Oh. Josh has another interview,” she said. “On Friday. He’ll need a ride.” She glanced up at Alfred now. “Hey.”
“What?”
“Maybe I should just let him borrow my car.”
“Borrow your car?” His brow creased in confusion. “How will you get to work?”
She grinned at him. “I don’t know,” she said, moving a little closer. “I mean, I could always take a cab, I suppose.”
“Why doesn’t he take the cab?” Then, Alfred flushed. God, I’m an imbecile sometimes. “Oh. You mean…you want to go in with me?”
Her grin broadened, and she leaned over to kiss him.
“But what about being discrete? If we show up together, people are going to notice.”
She shrugged. “I don’t care, if you don’t care.”
It was his turn to grin, and wrapping his arms around her, he drew her closer. “Not even a little bit.”
“Good. Then let’s give them something to gossip about.”
Nancy slept well, but Alfred got barely a wink. He’d locked the doors and doublechecked the windows, to the point that she’d laughed at his sudden onset of caution. “You can never be too careful, Nance.”
“Alright, Agent Favero,” she’d teased.
But as the sun rose and his room grew by degrees brighter, the taxman sighed a breath of relief. Nancy, his sweet Nancy, was in his arms, as alive and well as ever. Whatever she’d uncovered in that one, evil timeline had been missed this time. She was safe, for now anyway.
He still had the problem of figuring out who had been willing to kill her. But the most pressing issue had been solved. He stroked her hair as she slept, and his heart swelled not only with relief, but also affection. He thought of the Alfred Favero from the timeline that had almost been, now gone; and he was happy for him to be released from such a fate.
He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life in a world without Nancy. It was incomprehensible to him.
She stirred. “Alfred?”
“Morning, babe.”
“Morning.” She snuggled a little closer. “It’s not time to get up already, is it?”
“Nah.”
“Good.” He heard her breathing slow as she slipped back to sleep, and he hugged her tighter. Then, he closed his eyes, hoping to catch a few more minutes before the alarm sounded.
The alarm did sound, and far too soon. “Let’s drop the car off on the way into work,” Nance suggested over breakfast.
“Alright.”
It was done without much fuss. She texted Josh to let him know the plan, and he met her at the door. Alfred didn’t hear what was said, but the gist of the conversation was easy enough to follow from their body language: the marine thanked her, and she assured him it was not a problem. Then, she headed to Alfred’s car, and Josh turned back to the house.
“Okay,” she said as she got in, “you think we have time to grab a coffee on the way in?”
They did, and this time it was Alfred’s treat. She got an iced coffee, and he shivered. “It’s too cold for iced coffee.”
“It’s never too cold for iced coffee,” she told him sagely.
They arrived at work a few minutes before eight and parted in the fork in the hall between their respective destinations. “See you at lunch,” she said.
“Unless I can think of a reason to see you sooner.”
She grinned and pecked him on the cheek. Then she left, and he turned to his office with a contented sigh. Justin’s office was mercifully dark, so he congratulated himself that he’d missed his morning dose of unsolicited commentary.
That optimism was quickly laid to rest, though. He’d just taken his seat when Justin, computer bag still in hand, poked his head in the door. “New carpool, Freddie?”
“What?”
He shrugged. “Pulled in after you and Nance. Looks like you two are carpooling now?”
Alfred grimaced. “That’s right.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“I’m glad it meets your approval,” he said dryly.
Lyon just grinned. “Well, I gotta get moving. Got a call at eight. Catch you later, Freddo.”
And good riddance, Alfred thought. He turned his mind toward his work. He still had voicemails to get through from the day before, before he could start poking around in Nancy’s log from yesterday. That, of course, was all that was on his mind at the moment: catching a glimpse of what might have put a target on Nance’s back.
He listened to the messages one by one, sighing and groaning in turns at the questions he fielded. He was mid-draft of his first email response – he preferred email to phone in just about any circumstance – when his cell rang. It was the tone reserved for video chats, and he assumed it was Nancy. No one else video chatted him.
So he grabbed the door, then his phone. Now, though, his expression soured. His screen informed him that the incoming call was from none other than Josh Stevenson. Still, he accepted it, asking warily, “Hello?”
The marine’s chiseled features appeared onscreen, his green eyes flashing. “Favero?”
“Josh?”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“Um…what?” Alfred was at a complete loss to guess the source of the other man’s anger. The last he’d seen of the marine, he’d been sullenly heading back to his house as Nancy left.
“He knows about the device,” another voice cut in. At the same time, a face – a very familiar face – popped onscreen.
Alfred yelped as the sight of his own dark hair and olive skin, his eyes and thin mouth twisted in a grimace of annoyance.
“Get ahold of yourself,” the other Alfred snapped. “You’ve been through this already.”
“I have? Who are you? What’s going on?”
“I’m you, dummy.”
“From the future?” Alfred felt his heart sink. He’d taken the absence of another future Alfred as a sign that
his plan worked. “Oh God. That means…”
“Exactly. You failed. Again.”
Future Alfred, he decided, was kind of a jerk. “You failed too,” he felt it necessary to point out.
“I am you, dumbass. You started poking around in the case, and you got Nancy killed. Again.”
The phone shifted to center on Josh’s face again. “What in hell is going on here, Favero?”
Chapter Six
It was decided, mostly by Josh and Future Alfred, that this was a conversation better held in person. “I’ll meet you at your work,” the marine said.
His, “I wish you wouldn’t,” was ignored.
“Make sure Nance doesn’t know,” Future Alfred put in. “You don’t want her getting more involved.”
The taxman, then, was left to spend the next few minutes wondering what he had done, or would do, that had imperiled Nance. He’d been planning to check her audit, but so far he hadn’t touched it.
He had just convinced himself that all was probably well when an alert sounded on his computer, informing him that Josh Stevenson had checked in to see him. He grimaced and headed to the lobby.
Stevenson was waiting, a similar expression plastered over his features. “Favero,” he said stiffly.
“This way,” Alfred beckoned him. “We’ll talk in my office.”
He took the long way around, to bypass Lyon’s office, and closed the door after them once inside.
“Alright,” he said once the door latched, “now tell me what exactly happened.”
Josh was not in a cooperative mood, though. “After you tell me what you’re doing with the spacetime field generator,” he countered. “The one Angie Garrity specifically told you to destroy.”
Angie Garrity was the CEO of Futureprise Corporation. “We couldn’t,” Alfred said. “The danged thing’s nearly invincible.”
“So, what? Since you can’t destroy it, you just figured you might as well use it? Does Nancy know you’re playing with time?”
“No,” Alfred said. “No! It’s nothing like that. I’ve never used it.”
“Then how the hell did another version of you show up in my living room to warn me that you were about to get Nancy killed?”
“I’ve never touched it before. I only use it in the future, Josh – to save Nancy.”
That, at least, seemed to throw a bit of cold water on the marine’s rage. At least as far as the device was concerned. “And what the hell is that about, anyway? You – the guy from the future – said you were working some case that gets Nance killed?”
The fear that mingled with Josh’s anger was at once concerning and poignant in its own way. It was enough a mirror of his own feelings to worry the taxman. But he could not resent it, either. Not in the circumstances.
So he brought him, briefly, up to speed on the little that he knew.
“Fuck,” Josh said when he’d finished. “So every time someone starts looking into it, Nance gets killed.”
“That’s what it looks like,” Alfred agreed.
“And you haven’t told her?”
“No. You know how she is, when she gets on the trail of something. She won’t rest until she figures it out – or he kills her again.”
Josh seemed skeptical. “You can’t keep it a secret forever.”
“No, of course not. I just don’t want her getting hurt. I need time to figure it out first.”
“But that just got her killed. At least, that’s what future you says.”
Alfred frowned. “Did he say what he – I – did?”
“Just that you pulled the audit Nance was working, and started looking through everything related to ECF.”
“He didn’t say what I found?”
“I don’t think you found anything.”
“Dammit.” The furrows in his forehead were deepening. “How the hell am I supposed to keep Nancy safe if I can’t even find out who wants her dead?”
The marine considered. “She needs a bodyguard.”
“What?”
“A bodyguard.”
“That’s ridiculous. Even if we could afford one, Nance would never agree.”
“No,” Josh agreed. “Probably not. That’s why we don’t tell her.”
“That still leaves finding one – one whom we can afford and who won’t think we’re nuts.”
“I’ll do it.”
“You?” Alfred managed not to scoff, but just barely. “I’m serious.”
“So am I. I’m a professional, remember?”
“Not yet,” the taxman reminded him. “You still have another interview before you get the job. If you get the job.”
Josh shrugged. “Close enough. But I did security for Futureprise.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“No. But I know Nance. I know how she thinks and what her habits are.”
Alfred frowned. If Josh was trying to sell him on the idea, he was doing a poor job.
“I don’t understand all of it,” the marine said, with a pointedness that only deepened the taxman’s reserve, “but I spent a lot of time with her in the Cretaceous period.”
“So did I,” Alfred felt compelled to point out. “And I’ve still failed to protect her. Twice.”
“But that’s not what you’re good at, taxman. It is what I’m good at.”
“I don’t know…”
“And if you’re worried about…well, what I mean is, Nance never has to know.”
“What?”
“She won’t know I’m around. I’ll stay out of sight and do my job: keeping her safe. So you can do what you’re good at: figuring out whose cheating on their taxes and willing to kill over it.”
Alfred felt a little guilty now, though he couldn’t entirely define why. “You’d do that?”
“For Nance? Of course.”
Alfred accepted Josh’s offer, and the marine left with the promise, “Nothing’ll get past me.” He also left behind Nancy’s key fob, with all her other keys. “I’ll keep the car key. We’ll need a reason for why I was here. If she finds out, say it was to drop these off.”
Once he was alone, the taxman sat at his terminal and sighed. There was absolutely nothing about this situation he liked. He didn’t like keeping Nancy in the dark. He didn’t like depending on Josh, especially where she was concerned.
And, of course, he hated the idea that any and every action he took on the case might put Nancy’s life in jeopardy.
He was staring daggers at his computer screen when a voice interrupted his thoughts. “Trouble in paradise, Freddie?”
It was – of course – Justin. “What do you want now?” he snapped, making no efforts at civility.
“That was Nance’s friend that stopped by, right? Joshua?”
Alfred frowned at him. “Don’t you have actual work, Justin?”
Lyon shrugged. “Just checking in to make sure you’re okay. That sounded like it got pretty heated there for a bit.” The taxman’s frown deepened, but his colleague continued. “You’re a bigger man than me, I guess, but, you know, if it was me, I don’t think I’d let my girl keep her ex such a regular in our lives.”
This was too much for Alfred. Sitting here already was getting to him. The office was insufferable with Justin prattling on. “I’m pretty sure,” he declared, getting to his feet, “that you’re just about the last person I’d ask for relationship advice.”
An eyebrow climbed the other man’s forehead. “Geez, Freddo, no need to get bent out of shape at me.”
“All I’m saying is, Justin, you’ve got pretty strong opinions about my relationship for a guy who hasn’t gotten laid in half a decade.” And leaving his ‘friend’ to chew on that nugget of wisdom, he pushed out of the office, and headed down the hall.
His steps led him to Director Caspersen’s office. He knocked and waited for her summons. “Come in.”
“Morning, Director Caspersen,” he said.
“Morning, Alfred. What can I do for you?”
“Just wondering if there’s a way to see who accesses the access logs for a given file or database?”
“Who watches the watchers, eh?” She raised her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Yeah, there’s ways. Why?”
“Would you accept a hunch?”
“Sorry, Favero. That takes some pretty big clearance. Not even one of your hunches is going to cut it.” Then, she shrugged. “Not unless you tell me what it is, anyway.”
He shook his head. “Probably nothing. Just wanted to know if it was possible.”
“Alright. Then the answer is yes.”
“Thanks. Oh, and about my PTO request?” He’d submitted his paid-time-off form for the coming Thursday and Friday the afternoon before.
She nodded. “I got it. It’ll be approved by lunchtime.”
He smiled. “Thanks, Caspersen.”
“Of course. I’m surprised to see it, though. A leave request. From you. You almost never use your PTO.”
“Oh.” He colored a little. “I’m going to a comic thing.”
Caspersen grinned, finishing with him, “With Nancy.”
His color deepened. “Yes.”
“I should have guessed. Is it – what’s it called? That MarvelousCon she’s been talking about?”
“That’s right.”
“That should be fun.”
“I hope so,” he said skeptically.
Caspersen laughed, adding impishly, “You going to do the costume thing with her?”
He nodded. “Yup.”
Caspersen’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“It was her idea,” he assured her quickly.
“I don’t doubt it. Still, I’m surprised she could talk you into it.” She grinned. “You were the only one in our department who refused to wear a costume to the Halloween party, if memory serves.”
“That was different.”
“Of course.” Her eyes twinkled. “I’ll have to remember to draft Nancy for our office party planning committees from now on.”
“That’s not fair, Director Caspersen.”
“Probably not. But I’m absolutely going to do it.”
Chapter Seven
Justin scowled as Alfred passed, and closed his door with an emphatic bang. The taxman smiled to himself.