Time Search (The Time Counselor Chronicles Book 3)

by Danele J Rotharmel

  His mother cleared her throat. Her eyes looked tortured. “Danny, you can’t go back alone.”

  “I know,” he replied quietly. “I’m taking Dad and Laura with me.”

  Once again, the table erupted in argument.

  Dan held up his hand. “Laura is strong, and she’s trained. She’s faced Drake before, and she may remember something useful.”

  Laura nodded, looking grim and determined. “I can handle it.”

  Dan glanced at Peter, but seeing the stricken look on his friend’s face, he shuddered and turned away. His eyes found his mother’s. Her face was pale. She was holding onto his father’s hand with a white-knuckled grip.

  As he watched, his father smiled at his mother and mouthed the words, I’ll be fine.

  Jay started crying. As Gil rocked him, she glared at Dan. “You’ve become awfully domineering all of the sudden, Genghis Khan.”

  “I’m not trying to be a dictator,” Dan said, looking for any hint of softening in his wife’s stony face. “We all know the D.C. staff needs help, but—”

  “Actually,” a voice said from the doorway, “they’re doing just fine.”

  Dan swung around. Poppa was leaning against the doorframe munching a cookie.

  “Poppa,” he exclaimed. “Where’d you come from?”

  “The kitchen,” the old man replied with a grin. “I wanted a taste of my mother’s sugar cookies.” He licked his lips. “They’re just as tasty as I remember.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Dan said.

  “I know.” Poppa chuckled. “But it will suffice. You’re all so jumpy that if I’d initiated a Trapper portal in this room, I would’ve been pummeled with heavy objects before I had the chance to identify myself. Much safer traveling to the kitchen.” He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth. “Much yummier, too.”

  “What do you mean the staff doesn’t need our help?” Gil asked. “Have they caught Drake?”

  “Not yet, my dear,” Poppa replied. “But they’re doing fine nonetheless.”

  “Regardless,” Dan said. “A group of us is returning to—”

  “All of you are staying here,” Poppa said, brushing crumbs from his shirt. “Zeke, Crystal, and Marc have things under control. If you interfere, you’ll just complicate matters.”

  “But—”

  Poppa raised his hand. “No buts. I’ve run the calculations, and if you travel back to D.C. you’ll cause a Time Tsunami. Consider this a vacation. Kick back and relax.”

  “Relax?” Dan sputtered. “Are you joking? A maniac is on the loose, and he—”

  “Drake is being dealt with in the only way possible. If you go stomping around D.C. in your big, hobnailed boots, you’re going to get someone killed.”

  “I can’t just sit here,” Dan shouted, feeling anxiety ripping through his chest. “My people are in danger.”

  “Yes, they are,” Poppa replied quietly. “But the danger will only increase if you involve yourself in what’s going on.” Poppa put a hand on his shoulder. “Zeke, Crystal, and Marc are well-trained. So are Andy’s agents. It’s time you trust your team. Let them do their jobs.”

  “We can at least do research for them, can’t we?” Laura spoke up.

  “No,” Poppa said firmly.

  “Why can’t we get involved?” Gil asked, shifting in her seat. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “If you’d use your noggin, it’d make perfect sense,” Poppa replied. “On D-day, you were the only person who could save Dan and prevent a Time Tsunami. If anyone else had intervened, they would’ve caused the very thing you were trying to prevent. A similar situation is occurring now. There’s more at play than you realize. The threat of a Time Tsunami is very real. Only Zeke, Crystal, Marc, Andrew, and Agent Ruthford can prevent it. If you go back to D.C., or if you try to help from here, you’ll trigger a disaster.”

  Laura’s face was pale. “So what do you want us to do?”

  Poppa grinned. “Take a vacation, just like I said.”

  Peter sputtered. “While our friends are in danger?”

  Poppa nodded. “I’ve been working at TEMCO for more decades than I care to admit, and I’ve learned that the danger never ends. Someone is always in jeopardy. Your line of work is inherently hazardous. You aren’t botanists, you know. If you don’t learn how to rest in the middle of chaos, this job will eat you up and spit you out.”

  “So that’s it?” Laura said, looking frustrated and fierce. “We’re just supposed to kick back and watch television while the D.C. staff deals with a maniac?”

  Poppa smiled. “Rather than watching TV, you could start planning your wedding.”

  “At a time like this?” Laura blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m very serious,” Poppa said, stepping out of the room and coming back with a stack of bridal magazines. He plopped them down in front of Laura. “Here’s some reading material.”

  Laura’s mouth fell open as she picked up a copy of Bridal Weekly.

  Dan felt his chest constrict. “What am I supposed to do?”

  Poppa peered at him from beneath bushy brows. “Well, I can think of at least one thing. You need to get a wiggle on and figure out the flaw in the Wave Trapper prototype. You young pipsqueaks need to stop borrowing my equipment.”

  ~*~

  As streetlights glittered against the night sky, Zeke sat with Nicole in her kitchen eating Chinese takeout from Red Panda Pagoda. Trying to be deliberately provocative, he attempted to snatch a bite of chicken from her plate.

  Laughing, Nicole blocked his chopsticks masterfully with her own. “Get your own food,” she said with a teasing smile. “We have plenty. The carton’s half full.”

  “It tastes better coming from your plate.”

  Chuckling, Nicole tossed a fortune cookie at him.

  Catching the cookie against his chest, he cracked it open and silently read, Love and happiness are headed your way. He passed the fortune to her. “This one’s for both of us.”

  As Nicole smiled, Zeke scooped more chicken onto his plate. “How’d it go at the National Gallery?” he asked.

  “Terrific,” she replied. “The loose ends are all tied up. I can’t wait until tomorrow night for the unveiling. Speaking of which,” she said, jumping to her feet, “I have a surprise for you.”

  Zeke grinned as she whirled out of the room and ran back with a bag held behind her back.

  “Which hand?” she asked playfully.

  Zeke pointed with his chopstick at her left hand.

  Shifting the bundle into her other hand, Nicole shook her head.

  He pointed at her right hand.

  Shaking her head, she shifted the bundle again.

  Chuckling, Zeke wrapped his arms around her waist and tried to grab the bag held behind her back. It took him a long time to get the sack because they were both enjoying the playful wrestling match too much to hurry it along. When he did manage to grab the bag, he smiled and asked, “A present?”

  Nicole nodded. Her whole face sparkled with delight as he opened the sack and took out a maroon necktie.

  “Thank you,” he said softly.

  She beamed. “It exactly matches the color of the dress I’ll be wearing tomorrow night.” Leaning forward, she tied the necktie gently around his neck. “This way we’ll match, and everyone will know you’re my fella.”

  Pulling her onto his lap, he kissed her cheek. “I like the sound of that.”

  Nicole grinned. “Me too.” Retrieving her chopsticks, she reached over and picked up the bite of chicken he’d tried to snatch from her plate earlier. As she brought the chicken to his lips, she said with pride in her voice, “I want everyone to know we’re together.”

  ~*~

  Drake paced back and forth, clenching and unclenching his hands. He couldn’t believe a stupid nurse had cheated him out of his prize. He’d been so close to finding Phoebe.

  Spinning around, he threw a chair across the room. It broke on impact. He gla
red at the splintered pieces. Its destruction hadn’t soothed him. He needed a better vent for his frustration. He narrowed his eyes. Maybe he’d pay Crystal Stuart another visit. He felt like tweaking her tail—or cutting it off completely. He’d decide when he saw her.

  Stepping over the broken chair, he grabbed his car keys.

  ~*~

  In Montana, Sue curled up on the sofa next to her husband as her daughter’s concert played on television. Other than the dreamy sound of Angelina’s violin, the house was quiet. After Poppa had left, Dan and Gil had taken the baby and gone to bed early. Sue was positive that “going to bed early” had just been an excuse to pull away and discuss things privately. Peter and Laura were taking a walk in the moonlight, but Sue was equally sure that their walk had less to do with romance than with a private conversation over D.C. developments. She grimaced. She and Sam had just finished their own covert conversation. Truthfully, the house was in an uproar. None of them felt happy about “taking a vacation” while their friends were in danger, but they couldn’t do anything about it without going against Poppa’s direct orders.

  As Sue snuggled against Sam’s chest, she tried to force disquieting thoughts from her mind and focus on Angelina’s lovely face. Out of longstanding habit, she listened anxiously for any dropped notes in her daughter’s music. She couldn’t hear even one.

  “She’s playing wonderfully well tonight,” Sam said, stroking Sue’s hair.

  She nodded and bit her lip. “She looks too thin. Do you think she’s…sick?”

  “Shh,” Sam murmured. “Our baby girl is just fine.”

  Sue buried her cheek against her husband’s chest. “I can’t believe we can’t call her. I hate being locked away like this.”

  “There now,” Sam said softly, rubbing her shoulders. “Poppa said he’d keep his eye on Angelina, and she has Karl. He’ll keep her safe.” He chuckled. “I’m sure Karl’s keeping her close to his side.”

  Turning in her husband’s arms, Sue blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

  He kissed the end of her nose. “Nothing in particular, except that Karl has always struck me as a determined man. You said once that I was blind about these things. Let’s wait and see.”

  “You’re seeing things that aren’t there,” she said. “Karl’s her manager—nothing more. You think that every man is in love with our daughter.”

  “Well, why shouldn’t they be? Except for her momma, Angelina’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Any young buck would be lucky to win her, and he’d be a fool not to try.”

  “A bit prejudiced about the women in your life, aren’t you?” she asked with a tender smile.

  “Not at all,” Sam said firmly. “I’m not blind. You’re absolutely gorgeous and just look at our daughter—so is she.”

  Sue glanced back at Angelina. Her golden hair was gleaming and her eyes were shining.

  “She is beautiful,” Sue said. “Especially in that blue dress. We found it in Denver before she left for Europe. It makes her look like a dream.” She turned back to Sam. “I miss her.”

  “I miss her, too,” he said softly. “She’s been gone way too long.”

  Sam picked up a lock of her hair and wrapped it around his finger. “Grandma Jacobson’s pearls look lovely in our baby’s hair. Our little girl has hair just like yours.”

  “That’s taking poetic license,” Sue gurgled. “There’s more silver in my hair than gold.”

  Sam rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Both the silver and the gold are equally beautiful, and they make me feel like a very rich man.”

  “You old flirt.” She laughed, nuzzling his silver sideburns.

  On television, Angelina’s song built to a crescendo.

  Sue’s smile faltered. “You really don’t think we need to worry? She’s so far away.”

  “Our baby girl is just fine, at least, for now. The one I’m worried about is Alex.”

  Sue shifted in her husband’s arms. “Poppa said Alex and Phoebe got away from Drake.”

  “It’s not danger from Drake that I’m worried about. Our son’s in another kind of danger all together—he’s falling in love with Phoebe. Alex has a big heart, and big hearts can be easily broken. That poor girl has been through a world of hurt. If she chooses to take that hurt out on Alex, it’ll tear him apart. If Phoebe decides to, she can emotionally wound our son in ways that will take years to heal.”

  Sue bit her lip. “I don’t see what we can do about it.”

  “Me either. That’s what has me worried. At the hospital, I tried to warn Alex to go slowly.”

  Sue sighed. “So did I, but he was already showing signs of being pretty far gone.” She looked at her daughter’s delicate form on the television screen. As Angelina’s lovely music filled the air, she murmured, “I don’t see how we can protect either of our babies. Life is so uncertain.”

  Sam put his hand in hers. “We dedicated both Alex and Angelina to the Lord when they were little. We have to believe that God will look out for them.”

  “And if they get hurt?” she asked in a troubled voice.

  “Then we will help them pick up the pieces.”

  ~*~

  A warm fire crackled in Alex’s fireplace as he carefully bandaged Phoebe’s cuts and burns. The deep gash in her calf was healing nicely, but the burns on her arms and the bottoms of her feet were still a worry. Outside, crickets and frogs were singing as the sunset faded slowly and the stars spanned the sky in a glittering wave.

  “All done,” Alex said, fastening the last bandage. “Are you ready for your back?”

  Nodding, Phoebe stretched out on the sofa on her stomach. Alex adjusted her skirt so it was modestly covering her legs and drew a blanket over her feet. Very gently, he swept her hair to one side and unzipped her dress, baring her back.

  As always, when Alex saw the horrible words that Drake had carved into Phoebe’s flesh, his stomach lurched and a wave of anger washed over him. Only two of the words still needed bandaging, but the rest stood out as garish red scars on Phoebe’s pale skin.

  His hand shook as he picked up the scar ointment. He didn’t know if Phoebe knew the cuts on her back were words, and he wanted the letters gone before she found out.

  As he anointed her cuts, Phoebe watched the flames. “He burned me, you know,” she said in a subdued voice.

  Spreading ointment over the word ugly, Alex said quietly, “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “He used the flames to make me scream.” She looked at him. “I thought I’d be afraid of fire, but I’m not. The fire in the fireplace seems connected to you and not to him.”

  “I’m glad,” he said softly, rubbing ointment over the word worthless.

  Shep, his golden retriever, walked over and flopped down beside the couch. Phoebe buried her fingers in the dog’s soft coat. After a moment, she said in a tiny voice, “He didn’t…”

  Knowing what she was trying to say, Alex replied quietly, “I know. Dr. Ember told me after your initial examination. I’m glad.”

  Phoebe continued stroking the dog’s ears. As Alex used his finger to anoint the word hideous, she said, “I can feel the words each night when you cover them with the ointment. Your finger spells them out.”

  Alex’s heart lurched. His hand shook. “I’m sorry, kitten. I hoped you didn’t know what they were.”

  “I’ve always known.” She looked up with haunted eyes. “Drake didn’t…he didn’t…but one day, I thought he was going to.” Her breath came in little gasps. “I tried to fight. I tried…”

  “I know you did,” he said. His heart felt shredded.

  “I was so weak by that time, I couldn’t stop what he was doing, but I tried.”

  “I know,” he repeated brokenly.

  “He threw me to the ground and knelt on my back so I couldn’t move. He told me that I made him sick. He said I was revolting to touch. He said he’d do me a favor and tell me exactly why no man was ever going to desire me, and he cut those reasons
into my back. I was ugly, and repulsive, and worthless, and—”

  “No.” Alex interrupted. “He was a liar. You’re none of those things. You’re beautiful, and valuable, and desirable. He was a liar, kitten. I swear to you. He was a liar.”

  Tears were streaming down her face. He wiped them gently away.

  Phoebe looked up at him. Her voice caught. “H-he said no man would ever want me—”

  Alex stood swiftly, interrupting her words by his abrupt movement. Walking over to the window, he looked at the moonlit meadow. After a moment, he turned back and knelt by her side. Tenderly, he brushed more tears from her face.

  Clearing his throat, he said softly, “Drake was a liar, kitten. I know it’s too soon to speak of these things, but when you get better, I want to marry you. I want it more than anything else in this life.” Lowering his eyes, he took a shaking breath. “I only tell you this because I can’t stand having you believe his lies. You’re a beautiful woman, and you’re desirable in every way.” Raising his eyes to hers, he said in a husky whisper, “Phoebe, you’ve begun to haunt my dreams. You even haunt my waking thoughts.”

  Passing a trembling hand over his face, he looked at her in concern. “Was I right to tell you how I feel? Did it help?”

  Phoebe’s eyes filled with tears. Nodding, she said softly, “If a man like you feels that way about me then I know Drake lied. Alex, you’re the best man I’ve ever known. I’m glad you feel like that.”

  She reached her hand to him, and he took it. As their fingers touched, an electric ripple of emotion passed through him, holding the promise of good things to come.

  ~*~

  With a gasping scream, Crystal lurched awake and lunged into a shivering huddle against her headboard. Raising a shaking hand to her forehead, she pushed lank, sweaty hair from her eyes.

  “There is no smoke,” she murmured. “There is no fire. It was a dream.”

  It was pointless trying to go back to sleep, so when she had her breathing under control, she went to her living room. Flicking on the light, she tripped over a pink raincoat on the floor. She looked at it with puzzled eyes. She had no idea how it’d gotten into the living room. She peered at her apartment door. The deadbolt was still in place. Chewing her lip, she took the raincoat to her bedroom closet. As she hung it on its peg, a shiver ran down her back. Her dresses were in a heap on the closet floor. With trembling hands, she hung them up again.