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Time Search (The Time Counselor Chronicles Book 3)

Page 11

by Danele J Rotharmel


  Putting a weary hand to her head, she leaned against the wall. Her heart hammered in her chest as she noticed her teddy bear hanging from the back of a chair. A scarf had been turned into a hangman’s noose around its neck.

  Shuddering, she wrapped her arms around her body.

  The door is dead bolted. I must be sleepwalking as well as having nightmares. That’s the only explanation. I used to sleepwalk as a child. It must be happening again.

  Shivering wildly, she untied her teddy and went to the kitchen to make a cup of cocoa. Her shivering increased when she found her can of cocoa upturned on the kitchen counter. In the middle of the brown powder, marshmallows were placed strategically to form a happy face.

  Feeling physically ill, Crystal took a paper towel and wiped the whole mess into her trashcan. Then she reached for a teabag.

  12

  June 11, 11:54 AM

  Student Union, NSU Campus

  Washington D.C.

  Catching sight of the clock, and noticing that it was almost noon, Marc pushed a printout aside and rubbed the crick in his back. For the past several hours, he’d been studying Dan and Gil’s case files with Zeke, and he was bushed. He looked across the room to where Crystal was plugging information into her wall chart. Except for the squeak of her markers, the room was silent.

  Running a hand over his tired eyes, Marc studied a curl dancing on the nape of Crystal’s neck. His memory flashed back to that day in the archives when the touch of her hair against his cheek had sent fire pulsing through his veins. His fingers tightened around a pencil. He wouldn’t mind getting closer to Crystal. She really intrigued him. His brow furrowed. She was finally willing to be friends, and they’d been getting along much better. Maybe she’d be willing to go out on a date.

  Narrowing his eyes, he tried to calculate how she’d react if he asked her out. Part of him was sure that she would accept. After all, he hadn’t had a girl turn him down since middle school. But another part of him wasn’t so certain. Crystal was extremely unpredictable. He tried to convince himself that he wouldn’t care one way or the other, but he knew that was a lie.

  “Hey, Cris,” he said causally. “It’s almost lunchtime. Would you like to grab a bite to eat with me?”

  Continuing to scribble on her chart, she mumbled, “Why on earth would I want to do that? We can order in and save time.”

  Marc’s jaw tightened as Zeke bit back a laugh. From the smug look on Zeke’s face, Marc knew he was getting a kick out of the Campus King being rejected by the Campus Klutz. He grimaced. He wished Zeke hadn’t witnessed his attempt at asking Crystal out. He hated being laughed at. It shouldn’t bother him, but being shot down by NSU’s biggest weirdo wasn’t exactly pleasant—especially since he was used to girls eating out of his hand.

  A shiver of embarrassment washed over Marc followed by a wave of anger. He knew Crystal was distracted by her work and may not have realized he was asking her on a date, but as far as he was concerned, it was the final straw. She’d spent years ignoring him, and now, she’d publically rejected him. He wasn’t about to make a fool of himself again. Crystal was a dud when it came to looks and conversation. The thought that he’d want to spend time with her on a personal basis was laughable. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

  The silence was shattered as the phone on Zeke’s desk rang.

  “Cris,” Zeke said after answering it, “it’s for you.”

  Capping her marker, Crystal tossed tendrils of hair out of her face. Grabbing the phone and holding it crimped between her neck and ear, she redid her messy ponytail.

  “This is Cris,” she said in a crisp voice.

  Marc listened to her one-way conversation as she pulled a chopstick, a pen, and a pencil from her purse and secured her ponytail into a crooked bun.

  “Hi, Jeff… Nothing much. You?... Oh, that’s too bad… Well, we knew it was a possibility… No problem… Uh huh… Sure, I can… No worries… Tell your boss he’s an old Scrooge… Don’t work too hard.” Crystal laughed and hung up the phone.

  “Problems?” Zeke asked.

  “Not really. Just a minor inconvenience. Jeff’s boss is making him work tonight. He won’t be able to go to that glitzy charity ball with me.”

  “That’s tonight?” Zeke asked with a worried frown.

  “Yes, but no worries.”

  “I’m sorry, Cris. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it, especially after missing your cruise.” Zeke sat up straight. “Hey, could I take you?”

  Crystal gave him a playful shove. “Sure, but you’d be in the doghouse if you did. The National Gallery is unveiling Nicole’s paintings tonight.”

  “You’re right,” Zeke said, blinking rapidly. “I can’t miss that. Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.”

  Smiling, Crystal turned back to her wall chart. “It’s not your problem. I can find someone to take me, and if I can’t, I really don’t mind going alone.”

  “But isn’t the whole point of the evening dancing?” Zeke frowned.

  “Sure, but I can scrounge up partners there. And even in the awful eventuality that I’m an absolute wallflower, I’ll still enjoy listening to the orchestra.”

  “That doesn’t sound like much fun,” Zeke muttered.

  “Don’t worry.” Crystal laughed. “I’m going to have a blast. I love people-watching, and they’ve released a partial guest list. There are going to be movie stars, singers, and politicians galore. I’ll get my money’s worth even if I never dance a step.”

  Marc could see that Zeke didn’t look convinced. As he watched, Zeke began gesturing behind Crystal’s back. Knowing what his friend wanted him to do, Marc shook his head. He wasn’t feeling very charitable toward Crystal, and frankly, he didn’t care to do her any favors. She seemed to enjoy slapping him down. Why would he want to help her out? He glared as Zeke’s gestures became even more wild and insistent.

  ~*~

  In Montana, Sam Ableman descended the basement stairs looking for his stepson. Danny had been extremely quiet all day, and Sam was concerned. When he reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Dan sitting at a table with his head in his hands, he knew his fatherly instincts had been right. His son needed him.

  Walking over, he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “What is it, Danny?”

  Dan peered up with a tortured look in his eyes. “I can’t figure out the flaw in the Wave Trapper prototype. The math has gone beyond Peter and Laura’s level of expertise, and my brain feels like molasses. I need Crystal’s calculations. I can’t figure this out on my own.”

  Looking at his son’s white face, Sam said gently, “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”

  Dan made a strangled sound and shook his head.

  Squeezing his son’s shoulder, he waited.

  After a moment, Dan whispered, “Everything is my fault, Dad. I let Drake into TEMCO. I didn’t even question his admission. People are getting hurt because of me, and I’m miles away hiding. I don’t care what Poppa says. I need to go home. I should be cleaning up this mess—not Zeke, or Crystal, or Marc, or Andy.”

  Pulling up a chair, Sam said softly, “How much do you love Gil?”

  Dan brushed a hand over his eyes. “What does that have to do with it?”

  “Answer me.”

  “You know that I love her more than anything.”

  “What about your son?”

  Dan blinked. His forehead furrowed. “Dad, why are you asking me this? You know I love Jay.”

  “If you go home, do you think Gil will stay here?”

  Dan bit his lip.

  “She loves you, and she’s incredibly pigheaded and loyal. She won’t let you go alone, and you know it. Jay is being nursed, and we don’t have access to formula. That means Gil will have to take the baby with her. If you go home, your wife and child will be in the line of fire. They are two of Drake’s primary targets. Do you think they’ll be safe in D.C.?”

  Dan shuddered, shaking hi
s head slowly.

  “Danny,” Sam said, squeezing his shoulder, “the hardest thing a man can do is run away, but sometimes, it’s the best course of action. Your family is safe. That’s what matters. Nothing else.”

  “But this is still my fault. If I’d never invented time travel—”

  “If you hadn’t created TEMCO, the people counseled through your program would never have had the chance to lead fulfilling lives. Thousands of people would’ve been the victims of the violent criminals you’ve helped turn into productive citizens. God has given you a unique way of helping people. It would’ve been wrong of you to turn your back on your talents.”

  “But Zeke and—”

  “Zeke would be the first to agree with me,” Sam said firmly. “If you hadn’t invented GAP, Zeke wouldn’t have survived his teens. He knows that, and so do you. He, Crystal, and the others joined TEMCO because they believe in the program. Time travel has always been risky, and your friends have always been willing to live with those risks. Just because one of the risks is confronting them in the present rather than in the past doesn’t make this any different from any other assignment they’ve agreed to undertake.”

  “But Alex and Angelina. I’ve put them in danger. What if Drake kills them?”

  Sam’s jaw tightened. His stomach churned at the thought. He cleared his throat. “Poppa has promised that your brother and sister are safe. They’ll be fine.”

  Dan groaned. “This is just so unfair to them. Their lives are being disrupted.”

  “I don’t think Alex is objecting,” Sam replied.

  “What do you mean?” Dan asked.

  “In the near future, you may be getting a sister-in-law.”

  “Phoebe?”

  Sam nodded. “Alex is like me—incredibly choosy and slow-moving when it comes to women, but when he finds the right one, he’ll move like lightning.”

  “But Angelina—she’s been through so much already. I hate the thought of her being alone and afraid.”

  “I don’t like it either,” Sam said. “But your sister has shown herself to be stronger than all of us put together. No matter what happens, she’ll make it through.”

  Dan nodded slowly. He was silent for a moment. “I just feel so helpless, Dad. So blasted helpless.”

  “I know.” He squeezed his son’s shoulder. “How about we pray about your worries, and then I’ll help you tackle the problem with your design flaw?”

  Dan’s lips quirked into a reluctant grin as he pointed at his notebook. “You’re feeling capable of tackling differential calculus and delving into quantum matrices?”

  Chuckling, Sam ruffled his stepson’s hair just as he had when he’d been a boy. “Shush up, you cheeky twerp. Respect your elders and stop grinning. I don’t plan on doing any actual figuring. I’ll nod wisely and lend a listening ear while you go over your mathematical who’s-it-what’s-its. All you need is to talk things through. I have confidence in you, Danny. I always have. I’m incredibly proud of you.”

  Blinking rapidly, Dan lunged forward and gave him a strangling bear hug.

  “Well, now,” Sam sputtered. “What was that for?”

  “For being the best father in the world,” Dan replied in a voice thick with emotion. “I’m so glad I introduced you to Mom.”

  “I’m kinda happy about it, too.” He grinned. “Now, let’s pray. After that, you can tell me what you’re working on.”

  ~*~

  Crystal was plugging data into her chart when she heard Marc clearing his throat. “I’ll take you,” he said.

  She blinked. It took her a moment to realize that he was offering to escort her to the charity ball. She peeked over her shoulder at him. He was smiling, but the smile didn’t go all the way to his eyes. She hesitated. “I don’t think—”

  Jumping up, Zeke rushed to her side. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” he said in a hardy voice. “You and Marc will have a marvelous time. I left a file on the sofa by the vending machines. Can you get it for me?”

  Crystal continued staring at Marc.

  His smile still wasn’t reaching his eyes.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Cris,” Zeke interrupted, “I really need that file.”

  Nodding, she left the room. Zeke closed the door behind her. She walked about ten steps and then paused. She pulled at her bottom lip. Zeke felt guilty about her missed cruise, and he wanted to make sure she had a partner tonight. Somehow, while her back was turned, he’d coerced Marc into escorting her. The fact that Marc didn’t really want to go was obvious.

  Crystal shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet. Zeke was a great friend, and his intentions were noble, but having an unwilling partner for tonight’s festivities would be worse than having no partner at all. If Marc didn’t want to be there, his sour mood would affect her enjoyment. She walked back to the classroom. The best thing to do was tell Marc that she was letting him off the hook. As she put her hand on the doorknob, she heard voices from within.

  “—couldn’t you do better than that? I’m telling you, Marc, she’s an expert at reading people. She’s going to know you aren’t thrilled at taking her.”

  “What’s to be thrilled about? Getting my feet stepped on all night? The thought of Cris dancing with me is enough to send chills up my spine. I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up with ten broken toes. I mustered up as much enthusiasm as I could. If you weren’t my best friend, I’d have ignored your gestures and never have offered the invitation in the first place. I’ll do it for you, but if she breaks my toes, I’m putting in for workman’s comp.”

  “I don’t understand. Aren’t you getting along with her? I thought you two had patched up your differences.”

  “We have,” Marc said. “I like her, but that doesn’t mean I want to date her.”

  “Weren’t you trying to ask her out a few minutes ago?”

  “Please.” Marc snorted. “I was just giving her a treat. I doubt she gets many dates.”

  Crystal’s breath caught painfully in her throat.

  Marc’s hurtful words continued, “Speaking of treats, if you wanted me to give her one, couldn’t you have chosen a movie date? I can see escorting Cris to a movie, but to a fancy dress occasion? And one that involves dancing? Zeke, you’ve just set me up for a nightmare of a night. I’m gonna spend half my time picking her up after she trips and the other half being bored. Cris is nice, but she isn’t exactly alluring. She’s a zero in the look’s department. I—”

  Crystal’s hand shook on the doorknob. She stumbled back two paces. She froze for a moment and then turned and ran away from Marc’s hurtful voice.

  ~*~

  Sitting across from Charlene at Café Charbon, Andrew attempted to ignore the knot of reporters visible through the window. Someone had leaked the location of his lunch date, and he had a strong suspicion that it was the president. Wincing, he endeavored to make conversation as a photographer tapped on the window, trying to get his attention.

  Charlene was obviously extremely uneasy. She was a nice woman, but she had no idea how to handle the situation. She sat frozen in her chair with bright red cheeks, looking exactly like a deer caught in someone’s headlights. No matter the topic he introduced, she just mumbled and kept her face averted from the gawking reporters.

  He’d known that dating in the public eye would be difficult, but he had no idea how uncomfortable it truly would be. Every bite he took—every movement he made—was being scrutinized. After he and Charlene finished eating, he looked at her with sympathetic eyes. Keeping her there any longer was cruel. He wished he could have put her at ease, but she was obviously miserable. Rising from the table, he escorted her out the door. Making his way through the media frenzy, he wondered if Liz Anderson would mind reporters.

  ~*~

  Crystal ran down the hall toward the basement’s common area. Hot tears were flowing down her face, and she was so angry that she felt as if she were choking. In a burst of rage, she kicked the trashcan n
ext to the vending machines, sending it sailing across the room.

  “Whoa,” a musical voice said. “What’s wrong, Cris?”

  Turning, Crystal saw Nicole curled up on the sofa.

  Wiping her tears away with a brusque hand, Crystal mumbled self-consciously, “Hi, Nicole. I didn’t see you. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m taking Zeke to lunch, but I thought I’d treat myself to a chocolate bar before we went. Zeke teases me about eating dessert first, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Nicole motioned for Crystal to come closer. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  Nicole chuckled. “I’d believe you, but I’ve never seen a trashcan sailing across the room under its own power before.” She patted the sofa. “Come here, and tell me all about it.”

  Crystal lowered herself onto the couch. “Have you ever felt so humiliated that you didn’t know whether to kill someone slowly and scatter his remains up and down the Potomac or whether to climb inside your clothes hamper, pull down the lid, and hide there for about a month?”

  Nicole’s musical laughter filled the air. “Sure I have, although I might not have described the feeling quite so eloquently. Who has inspired your murderous thoughts?”

  Crystal’s brow lowered. “Marc.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Jeff had to cancel on me, and Marc offered to escort me to the charity ball tonight.”

  “And that’s not a good thing because…?”

  “Because Zeke made him do it.”

  “Ah.”

  Crystal felt another tear zigzagging its way down her cheek. “I’m not crying,” she said defensively. “I’m just so mad that I don’t know what to do with myself. I overheard Marc telling Zeke that I was going to step all over him and break all his toes.” Crystal sighed. “That’s at least one thing he’s mistaken about. I know it’s hard to believe, but I really am a good dancer.”

 

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