The Price of Time

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The Price of Time Page 17

by Tim Tigner


  “Oh yeah.”

  “Just another slice of lemon for my water,” I said when the server turned my way. “Didn’t get my swim in today.”

  She didn’t call me sweetie.

  Once we were alone again, I turned back to Skylar and answered her earlier question. “Next, we go fishing.”

  She didn’t miss a beat. “With my lookalikes as bait?”

  “You got it. Emma, Sandy, and Amy are already dangling. We need to prepare them asap. I also want to create a custom lure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to set up a new Facebook account. One specifically designed to catch Tom’s attention.”

  43

  Astute Observation

  ALLISON FOUND DAVID at the bow of the boat, lying on a sky-blue cushion with his hands behind his head. She, David, and Lisa had flown to Seven Star on separate helicopters for the emergency meeting, having arrived in Southern Florida at different times. For the return trip, however, they were all taking Felix’s yacht. This gave Allison a welcome opportunity to bounce ideas off the big brain of her fellow research scientist.

  She plopped onto the thick cushion beside him, but lay on her side so she could see his face. “I think you’re right.”

  “That’s always good to hear,” he said with a wink. “About what?”

  “About the killer being one of us.”

  His face darkened. “Actually, I thought Pierce had a good point.”

  “You and I both know that disciplined minds can exert considerable control over physiological reactions. If the killer knew she couldn’t have been uncovered, she’d have remained cool.”

  “She? You think it’s Aria or Lisa?”

  “Not Aria. Lisa maybe. She killed Kirsten after all. But I was just avoiding the automatic use of he. Actually, I think Pierce is the most likely candidate.”

  David propped himself up onto one elbow as well, mirroring her pose. “Why’s that?”

  “For starters, he’s an investor. Deep down, they’re all carnivores. His relationship to us was always utilitarian. Transactional. I don’t know that immortality has changed his perspective on that.”

  “And now he wants to be a senator.”

  Allison raised a finger. “He wants to be president.”

  “Either way, how does killing the other Immortals help?”

  His tone was sincere, not judgmental. That, she realized, was why she liked talking to him so much. He never used his enormous intellect to make her feel small. Fortunately, she had already considered his question. “It will help him keep his big secret during the extreme scrutiny that accompanies running for national office. If he’s the only Immortal, then the odds of discovery drop to near zero.”

  David looked up and to the left, an inward stare. She’d piqued his interest. “Excellent point. I hadn’t considered that. I’d looked at their ambitions as a danger to us, not vice versa.” His expression morphed as he spoke. “But as one of the people whose ambitions are doing the endangering, you’ve got a different perspective.”

  Allison absorbed the blow without taking it personally. David had a fair point.

  “Let me think about that,” he added, giving Allison the opening she needed.

  She pulled herself up and sat facing him in a cross-legged position. “I’ve wanted to be an actress ever since I was a schoolgirl. But my parents took one look at the odds of success and the lifestyles of people trying, then pushed me into science.”

  David gave her an appreciative smile. “You never told me that before.”

  She nodded to defuse a bit of nervous tension. “They wanted me to become a doctor. They said a medical degree guaranteed success. Lots of opportunities and universal respect.”

  “It’s a solid, low-risk strategy.”

  “My senior year of college, I was filling out med school applications when I realized that I didn’t want to spend my life around sick people. That led to a big fight with my parents, but we eventually compromised on a career in the life sciences. A PhD rather than a MD. A bit more risk and not quite as much prestige, but still prosperous and infinitely more predictable than acting.”

  His eyes remained warm and inviting. “I can’t believe you never told me that.”

  It was her turn to wink. “Never told my boss that I’d really rather be doing something else?”

  “Good point.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder. That was twice now, she realized. Was she subconsciously clinging to him for security during this troubled time? “You’ve given us an unprecedented opportunity to reinvent ourselves. Once I started grad school, I never thought I’d get another shot at acting. The window is so short for women. At thirty-one I’m at the upper edge of viability, but immortality gives me infinite shots on goal, so to speak.”

  “I wish you all the best with it.”

  She lowered her hand. “Thank you. May I make an observation?”

  David canted his head.

  “You haven’t changed a bit. You drive a nicer car, and now you live on the beach rather than a few blocks back, but that’s just Aria’s money. Immortality doesn’t seem to have impacted your daily routine or your general attitude. You’re still the same David Hume.”

  “I was doing what I loved before we figured out how to halt aging. I still am.”

  Allison leaned in. “May I make another observation?”

  This time he raised his eyebrows in invitation.

  “For someone doing what he loves, you don’t seem particularly happy.”

  Ironically, he smiled. “I’ve always been more Spock than Kirk.”

  Allison wasn’t a Trekkie, but she recognized the character reference and knew Kirk was the charismatic captain and Spock the logic fanatic with pointy ears. “You used to be happier. Or appear happier, I should say.”

  David didn’t comment.

  “You could start over too, you know. Have you thought about it?”

  “Not really.”

  Allison didn’t buy that. “Come on, we’re still an hour out of Jupiter. What would you do differently?”

  He turned toward the horizon, where blue sky met blue sea.

  Allison waited.

  When he turned back, his expression remained pensive. When he met her eye, she knew that he’d done more than take her question seriously. He’d come to a conclusion. Then the spell broke and he began to squirm.

  “What is it?”

  David pulled a phone from his pocket. It was the burner phone they all used for anonymous internal communication.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “Tory.”

  44

  Unmistakable

  I LOOKED LEFT as I lifted my head from the pillow and was pleased to see that Skylar and I had each made it beneath the covers of a bed. I then discovered that I’d also managed to strip to my boxers, though I had no memory of doing so.

  After stuffing our stomachs with Rick’s late-night fare and establishing our action plan, we had both slumped into recovery mode before the check arrived.

  I consulted my watch and experienced a shock. With the balcony blinds snugged tight and a white noise app giving acoustic cover, we’d slept past noon.

  Still groggy despite the hour, I slipped into the shower and stood with my head beneath a hot blast long enough for the steam to turn the toilet paper soggy. When I emerged with eyes bright and towel wrapped tight, Skylar was already dressed and working at the desk.

  She rose as I appeared. “Good morning.”

  “Good afternoon.”

  “That explains it,” she said, grabbing the empty mini coffee carafe and heading for the bathroom.

  I donned my jeans and shirt while she took care of business. Then I glanced at her computer. Skylar had Facebook open on four tabs. The active one displayed Sandy Wallace, the chef from Miami. I cycled through the others and found three more familiar faces: Amy Zabala, Emma Atherton, and finally fat vampire Carmen Rohan.

  The toilet flushed. Skyla
r emerged with the coffee carafe now full of water.

  “You found all four promising leads on Facebook,” I said.

  She dumped the water into the back of the machine and pushed the Brew button. “You know, there’s a fan in the bathroom. Helps keep the toilet paper dry, among other things.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.

  “And it’s three promising leads. I just looked up the vampire out of curiosity.”

  I decided the wise move was to let Skylar get caffeinated before engaging her further. I opened my own laptop and Googled how to establish a fake Facebook account. Then I went to work. By the time Skylar had sipped her way through half a cup, I had the fundamental structure in place.

  “Jenny Johnson,” Skylar said, reading over my shoulder. “That’s pretty generic.”

  “Exactly. Harder to home in on electronically, because there’s so much noise. Our goal is to get him sniffing around in person.”

  “Wouldn’t that just make him more likely to move on to the next lookalike?”

  I turned to look at her. “It would if there were lots of candidates to choose from. But as we saw, there aren’t. And meanwhile, we’re going to make Jenny irresistible.”

  “How do we do that?”

  I poured myself a cup of coffee while contemplating. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Jenny just relocated to Miami from Nebraska to be with her boyfriend. But two weeks after she gets there, he dumps her for an older woman with money. Suddenly she’s stuck in Miami, where she has no job and no friends. She’s too ashamed to return to Nebraska, which she’d been wanting to escape forever anyway. The only thing going for her is the apartment they shared, which he’s agreed to finish out the lease on, since he’s now living in a house for free. You with me?”

  “I’m with you. In general terms it’s not that uncommon a story, other than the rent part.”

  “So what does she do?” I asked, drawing my partner into the plan.

  Skylar downed the last sip of her first cup. “She creates a new Facebook account where she can vent to sympathetic sisters on the web.”

  “Exactly. Glad to see the coffee working.”

  “Sorry about earlier. I’m not usually bitchy.” She refilled her cup.

  “You weren’t and I’m sure you’re not, but you are entitled. I do apologize for forgetting the fan. I was still half asleep when I stepped into the shower.”

  She sat on the edge of her bed, which was the one closest to the desk. “Won’t Tom suspect a trap?”

  “I have no doubt that he’s always wary, but he still has to work. I’m hoping the backstory will slip Jenny past his defenses. Plus we’ll camouflage the lure by making it difficult for him to locate her. We’re not going to include an address, email, or phone number. But we will make it possible for him to identify her apartment building from landmarks in photographs.”

  “By her you mean me?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why not Virginia Beach then? We’re here. And here is a lot cheaper and faster than Miami.”

  I met her question with a question. “Who’s the best lookalike on our list?”

  She got it right away. “Sandy Wallace in Miami. We need to go there anyway.”

  “And?”

  This time Skylar took two beats to reach the right conclusion. “It makes Tom all the more likely to check her out. Two fish in the same barrel.”

  “Exactly. When you go shopping today, you’ll need to find a wig for Jenny. Meanwhile, why don’t you put your bathing suit back on. We’ll go take some photos with just sand and water.”

  “So they could be Miami beach,” Skylar said, thinking out loud. “We should put you in a couple of them so I can black you out, as Jenny would be inclined to do with her ex.”

  “Good thinking. Please pick me up a medium swimsuit while you’re shopping. We’ll do the beach shoot later.” The phone in my pocket vibrated as I spoke. I checked the screen while Skylar watched with raised brows.

  “It’s an email from Lesley at the CIA.”

  Skylar moved closer.

  I opened the message and read. Is this him? A color photo showed a man wearing a foreign military uniform. It was the kind of photo you’d find in a government personnel folder. Posed and proud, looking directly at the camera.

  “That’s him,” Skylar said. “About ten years ago, I’d guess.”

  “You certainly can’t mistake those cheekbones.” I tapped REPLY and typed Yes.

  45

  Timing is Everything

  ALLISON FELT RELIEVED as she returned home to Laguna Beach from the Immortals’ meeting. She knew that wasn’t the prevailing sentiment, far from it. Yes, the demise of her colleagues put fear in her heart and grief in her soul, but in her case a greater burden had been lifted. Such was the power of forgiveness.

  She’d felt terrible about deceiving her team regarding her aspirations and her secret plan to fulfill it. Knowing that she now had David’s blessing clearly meant more than she would have guessed. She hadn’t realized how much the guilt was weighing her down until it evaporated under his forgiving gaze.

  Now, she just had to make her acting breakthrough.

  If only her agent would call.

  Suddenly she realized that maybe he had. As per instructions, she’d left her personal cell at home so there wouldn’t be a GPS trail linking her to Seven Star Island. She unlocked the garage door and disarmed the alarm, then walked straight to the kitchen and plucked her cell from the charger.

  Four messages.

  All from her agent.

  Rather than listen, she called him right back.

  “Mr. Venit’s office.”

  Rubbing her lucky star pendant with her left hand while holding the phone with her right, Allison said, “Jessica, it’s Olivia Valesco.” In her excitement, she’d almost said Allison DeAngelo. “I—”

  “Adam’s expecting your call. I’ll put you right through.”

  The hold was brief, but her heart still nearly pounded a hole in her chest. “Olivia. Your career’s not yet at the stage where playing hard to get is going to work in your favor.” Adam’s tone was jovial, but there was some bite in it.

  “Apologies. I had to make an unexpected trip and forgot my cell. What’s going on?”

  “You didn’t listen to my messages?”

  “When I saw them I called right away.”

  “You’ve got an audition for Aaron Sorkin’s latest film. He needs a last-minute replacement. His office called and specifically asked for you. Apparently, he saw you in Nobody’s Ghost.”

  What a stroke of luck! Her namesake had been in a dozen plays in New York City. Nobody’s Ghost had achieved critical acclaim, although Olivia Valesco hadn’t been singled out. “What’s the role?”

  “He wouldn’t say. That’s not unusual when things aren’t going according to plan. The important thing is that the reading is scheduled for 3 p.m. on set in Oceanside.”

  “Today?”

  “That’s why you’ve got so many messages. And why it’s so important to promptly return my calls.”

  Allison looked at her watch. It was 1:15, and Oceanside was at least an hour away at this time of day. “I haven’t seen the script.”

  “They’ll give it to you when you get there. The sooner you arrive, the more time you’ll have to prepare.”

  “I’d better run then.”

  “I’d suggest flying, if you happen to have a helicopter.”

  Actually, she could easily afford one, but chose not to mention that to Adam. Instead, she headed back to her white Mercedes CLS. “Please text me the address.”

  “Good luck.” Adam hung up.

  Oceanside. That might mean a military movie. She wondered if Sorkin was shooting a follow-up to A Few Good Men. “Oh my God. I could be in a movie with Tom Cruise!”

  She was decently dressed. Designer jeans with Jimmy Choos and an Alexander McQueen top. Knowing that someday she’d have the paparazzi to consider, she’d decided to build discipli
ne and assume she might be photographed whenever she left the house.

  She checked the vanity mirror. Her makeup definitely needed a touchup. She’d wait until she parked rather than risk doing a sloppy job at a traffic light.

  As she merged onto Laguna Canyon Road, Allison dictated the texted address into her navigation system and waited eagerly while it calculated a 2:21 arrival. By the time she cleared security and found the casting director, she’d be lucky to have ten minutes with the script.

  The math wasn’t difficult. Every minute she managed to move up her arrival would give her ten percent more time to learn her lines.

  She made full use of her 577-horsepower engine, and began beating the clock one car length and yellow light at a time.

  It probably wouldn’t be the sequel to A Few Good Men, she decided. Sorkin was into biographies lately. Mark Zuckerberg and Steve Jobs and Molly somebody. Why hadn’t she asked Adam? He’d probably mentioned it in one of his four messages.

  The Honda Civic in front of her hit the brakes as she reached for her phone. She avoided its rear end by getting her own foot down in time, but lost her grip and sent her phone sliding between seat and center console. She wanted to scream. This wasn’t the first time her phone had fallen into that trap. The last time, she’d lost a nail attempting to retrieve it. With all the fancy options on her hundred-thousand-dollar car, you’d think they could eliminate that pesky gap!

  She exhaled long and hard. This was no time to get agitated. At least she had the address plugged in.

  Traffic lightened up a few minutes later as she cleared Dana Point. The arrival time now showed 2:18. “A thirty-percent improvement.” As Allison spoke the words, she found herself yawning.

  Granted, it had been a long day, with the flight back from the East Coast, but wow. Suddenly she could hardly keep her eyes open. What was up with that?

  Under normal circumstances, she’d pull over for a catnap. Or at the very least grab a double latte. But of course any delay was out of the question. She was about to audition for Aaron Sorkin! At his personal request! This was her pivotal moment. Her lucky break. Why was she so damn slee—

 

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