“Sorry to startle you. You don't look much better than you did earlier.”
As though I hadn't heard, I kept writing. She sat down and waited until I placed the pen on top of the pad. “I didn't mean to be rude, Sandy. I needed to get this down.”
“What is it?”
“Just some notes.”
“About what?”
“You wouldn't believe me.”
“Try me.”
“I can time travel.”
In spite of her skeptical look and sarcastic comments, I related what had happened over the course of the past year and a half. I'd always been able to talk to her, but my reality had changed. She did teach here. So I began to explain what had happened today. Fritz always talked about what could happen in spacetime if history were altered. The examples he used, I used now. If Kennedy hadn't been shot, would Viet Nam have lasted. If Lincoln hadn't been assassinated, or if slavery had been outlawed in the Constitution. If Hitler had been killed before he could start the war. If Lee had listened to Longstreet and moved away from Gettysburg. What would life be like now? Those were the books he'd picked.
“What books?”
“The ones he left as a trail. You know, once we even took you to see Shakespeare.”
“You know I love Shakespeare.”
“I know. You did in my other dimension. You told him the names of Romeo and Juliet.”
“You're kidding. I named a Shakespearean play? That would really be a dream.”
“It's a nightmare for me.”
We talked a little longer, but I could tell she'd grown uncomfortable. I'm guessing that in this new dimension, people act pretty much the same. Well, clearly not. But Sandy always fidgeted if a particular topic bothered her when we talked. Her frown however made me wonder if she were an ally, someone I could count on here, or if she had other concerns. I didn't ask.
When she left, saying “see you tomorrow,” I finally had a quiet moment to look at the big picture. I had entered some kind of alternate universe. I knew it, but no one else did. Everyone I'd met today went about their business like nothing had changed. No surprises. What happened? When? Retracing my steps, the radio, the sky, the buzz at the door. That had to be where I crossed over. But why? How?
The portal always left a trail, usually on Fritz's desk. He outlined books or pages to compare when he went through. But this desk had some pencil marks and an intact desk lock. On the other hand, when I marked my desk, in my room, not this one, I used an indelible marker. I had to check. I peeked in on my way out, and tried the door to the empty room. Locked. I headed for my car. Maybe Jane will have an idea.
Chapter 5
Jane
THE COMPUTER SHUT off. That had never happened before. The lights went out. Our back-up systems and emergency power didn't activate. I'd been checking my computer for messages that required immediate attention. The lights abruptly switched off. As suddenly as it had cut off, power returned, and everyone went back to work. I rebooted and waited, hoping no files had been lost. If we had been cyberattacked, Tom Andrews needed to check my entire system. Important information should not have been in jeopardy. Supposedly, the firewalls were taller and wider than the proposed wall along Mexico. I chuckled at that, but my computer contained files about the portal and my relationship with the president that no one else needed to see.
After a few messages from the server about searching for corrupted files, everything had returned to normal. While I waited for the reboot to complete, my cell buzzed with an unexpected caller.
“Jane, do you know where Ashley is?” asked George.
* * *
Ash's car was gone, so I drove to the school. A bright red anything stands out, so the Mustang was easy to spot. I walked into the school but someone else sat in his chair. At the office, I asked George if he had any information. He said he found a substitute at the last minute, but still no call from Ashley.
I called Linda while I walked back across the parking lot. Something had happened, I told her. He made it to school and vanished. She said I should stop by whenever I could. I said I'd come by after work.
Colonel Mitchell's men were busy packing. The colonel had told me that General Beech said the president didn't want to leave a trail to the portal.
“Yeah. The world's all of a sudden a paradise,” I said. “Are you taking everything?”
“Not yet. We'll rotate five to ten guys and a medic, just in case,” the colonel said. “I don't think the boss plans to tell the new administration about the portal or this place.”
“Do you know his plan for Tony?”
“Tony stays, for a while anyway.”
“When are you leaving, Colonel.”
“I'm going at the end of this week. I'll be back after New Year's, probably to shut down. I think they want us off the radar before the inauguration.” He grinned. “It's been quite a year, hasn't it, Colonel?”
“It sure has. Wait. What?” His grin expanded and the men nearby began to clap.
“The general told me this morning and said I could tell you. Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel Barclay.” Although I hadn't really noticed them, cheering, smiling soldiers surrounded me. Every one of them had been part of one portal mission or another, and most had been in all of them.
The choking sensation prevented the words of gratitude and appreciation from being said. “Thank you. All of you,” I sort of croaked. When the colonel reached out his hand, the men lined up behind him to shake mine, sunburst smiles on all our faces.
After the unofficial ceremony, I asked Colonel Mitchell if I could speak to him privately. We found an empty table in the lobby area. I told him that Fritz had disappeared into the portal and that Ashley had spent the weekend trying to figure out how to find him.
“General Beech told me about it yesterday,” he said. “I wish I could help. I like Fritz.”
“A new twist wriggled in this morning. Ashley's missing. He went to school. His car's parked in its usual spot. But no one saw him or knows where he is. I think he may have gone after Fritz.”
“That kind of takes the sugar off your promotion. Sorry. Again, I wish I could help. Does the president know about this? Does the general?”
“Not yet. It's only been a few hours. He may turn up. Still, I'm worried. He wouldn't just take off and for sure he wouldn't skip work. I don't think he ever missed a day until last spring. After Palestine.”
I'm sure he'll be fine, Jane. But maybe we're closing this place too soon. We may need it.”
“Not if no one can open the portal, Colonel.”
I drove past the school. Ash's car sat right where it had been earlier. George would have told Ash to call if he'd shown up, so I continued home. I checked everywhere. Normally, I'd have clicked into 'analyze' mode, but I was just plain worried. Before I called Linda, I phoned the president. Ms. Crispen connected him right away.
“I've been expecting your call all day, Jane.”
“Sorry, Mr. President. We have a problem here. Thank you for the promotion. I know you made it happen.”
“Actually General Beech made it a point before I leave here. It'll be effective on December 15. But what's the problem?”
“I think Ash went after Fritz.” Then I told him what the day had been like.
As the story unfolded, the president said, “If he and Fritz are both stuck inside, we need to make sure the portal's protected, or they won't have a way to get back.”
“I was thinking the same thing when you closed the airport.”
“Well for now we can't use it to go anywhere. I hope we don't need it. But maybe we should slow the change-over.”
“Especially since Koppler's loose.”
“Jane, or should I say Colonel Barclay, let me think about this for a bit. I still have six weeks or so. If he's still after me, or Fritz, we should have a plan to respond.”
“I'll think about it, too. Thank you again, Mr. President.”
My next call did nothing to ease my co
ncern. Linda had no news from Ash. She invited me for one of Emily's creations, and since I had no intention of cooking for myself, I accepted. When we disconnected, my phone buzzed. To add to the strangeness, no name popped up on my caller ID.
Chapter 6
Linda
I SAID, “THAT'S weird.” Jane had just told me a strange story.
“What is?” Mom asked.
“Ashley is missing.” I told her what Jane had said.
“Do you think he went after Fritz?”
“I don't know. Without thunderstorms, how could he? Maybe Tony will know.”
“Well, I wouldn't worry just yet. Let's start getting ready for the holidays. Would you mind if I use Fritz's car while I'm here?”
“Not at all. He won't need it.” As if a pipe had sprung a leak, a trickle flowed down my cheeks that just wouldn't stop. “What am I going to do, Mom? I knew coming back would be difficult, but I can't make any sense of this. I'm gone, he's gone. What next?”
“Hopefully, he comes back and you stay put. Ashley and Jane get married and you all live happily ever after.”
I dried my eyes and laughed. Mom does have a way to make the difficult seem silly. And easier to fix that way. “But Koppler is still free. That still worries me.”
“Linda, that's not your problem right now. He can't undo the election. The government is wise to him, so he won't get away. Take care of the baby, make the house ready for when Fritz comes home. Start working on what you have spent years getting ready to do. Or is that MBA just for show? You dreamed about your bike shop, and Fritz shared it with you. He supported every step you made. That's your work—the baby, the house, the shop. The rest will be whatever it is.”
“Thanks, Mom. But what if he doesn't come back?”
Mom looked squarely in my eyes. “The baby, the house, the shop.”
Mom had raised her kids, Joe and me, in the relative normalcy of an affluent community. She had been an active volunteer in many organizations and causes over the years. She matched perfectly with my father. She offset his bluster and argumentativeness with practicality and logic. I even think she cancelled out his votes. I had learned over the past few days she not only knows how to cook, but she can bake, something I have never been good at. So I've helped her. Ash and Jane and the rest of our occasional crew got to sample Mom's skills. She'd said only a few days ago that she believed the old adage—as kids got older, their parents got smarter. Then she just smirked at me, hands on her hips.
“You know, Mom…”
“Yes, I do. About time you figured that out.”
“That's not what I mean. I fell into a trap that I made myself. Walking out like I did. I can't believe I didn't make more of a fuss about the portal. It's dangerous. It changes lives. We just went along because it was good for the country.”
“It was, wasn't it? Think of all the good things you did.”
“Mom, Fritz and now Ashley can time travel. Every time, they set things in motion that brought us to where we are now. Remember how mad you and Dad were when Joe and I played with matches. Well, we've been playing with them again, only this time, the matches are sticks of dynamite. And what did I do. I became a stereotype, the woman upset because her husband didn't listen. I walked out like he cheated on me. I've been so stupid. Look at where we are now.”
“Linda, I can see both sides. I tried all summer to get through to Fritz, and he always said that you would come home, but you needed to find out for yourself, on your own. But, he's been miserable. He started smoking again. And drinking. He didn't know that I could hear him at night, calling for you. I couldn't pry you away from Tim, so I just had to wait. And I did my best to minimize the damage of you and your father together.”
“Why didn't you say something?”
“I did, but you weren't listening. You and Fritz have been perfect together all these years. Part of that, I think, is that both of you are pig-headed, but you're both so smart that eventually you were able to compromise. Or really see the other's viewpoint. Unlike what your father thinks, Fritz was the best you ever brought home.” She took a deep breath, I remember, because that's when she said that Ashley would find him and bring him home. “That's why I don't want you two at odds. It's not helpful.”
Chapter 7
Ashley
I GRABBED THE newspaper and headed to my car. I read for the dozenth time the memorial notice for James Koppler. He'd been shot in 2008. How could he have just died if Fritz had killed him a year ago? Could this be another cover-up? From my own experience, that possibility wouldn't come as a surprise. I looked up but the real surprise struck hard—my car was gone.
The lot emptied faster than a keg at a frat party, so only a couple dozen remained, and none were red. I reached in my pocket and my keys jingled. I turned around to report the theft at the office and to call the police. The door opened and Sandy and Tom Jaffrey walked out.
“What's wrong?” Sandy asked.
“What makes you think something's wrong?”
“Your face.”
“My car's gone.”
“Have you checked at home? Maybe your girlfriend took it.”
“She has her own. You know about her?”
“You said you took it for repairs.” She looked at me as if my head were on backwards.
“I did?”
Tom had been listening and shaking his head. “Are you okay, Ashley? You're having a bad day, but are you sure you're thinking clearly?”
“I'm fine, Tom. Just getting over too much turkey.”
“You don't like turkey,” said Sandy.
“That would mean I had too much,” I said. I tried wisecracks to get out this corner, but they glanced at each other, frowning. “I need to get to the office, so I'll see you later.”
“I'll walk with you,” Sandy said. “In case you need a ride.”
By the time we reached the office, lights were out, the door locked, not a breathing body around. Rather than say anything, I shrugged. George never left this early and Mrs. Sweeney never left until he had gone.
“Call your girlfriend,” Sandy said. The tone in her voice told me that no love was lost between them. I dialed Jane's number.
* * *
A BUZZ IN HER PURSE made her jump. Alone in her office, the quiet allowed her to concentrate on the plans for changing the status of airport security officers. She looked at the caller ID. “Who the hell is Ashley Gilbert?”
* * *
SANDY DROPPED ME off. We barely spoke on the way. As I opened the car door, she said that I should get some rest. “You're not yourself. People noticed. That time-travel story is amusing, but don't let others hear it. Ashley, we've been friends for a long time and I know you better than most. If you want me to get you some help, just let me know. But you need to do something soon.”
I stared at her, letting her words find a proper translation. She didn't believe me. No surprise. I thanked her and closed the door. My car wasn't in the driveway, either. When I opened the door, I did a double-take. I had expected a light blue paint job, but stark white greeted me. Grease streaked the light blue carpet. The stripped-down frame of a ten-speed bike stood in the middle of the room. Oily parts surrounded the frame.
A voice I recognized called from the rear of the house. “I didn't hear your car.” When she walked into the room, I couldn't take my eyes off her. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She snorted. “This time.”
“Someone stole my car. What do you mean, this time?”
“Did you look under your desk? In your briefcase? Put your stuff down and let's go look. Honestly, if your head wasn't attached…” I let my eyes follow her around the room. “What … are you … looking at?”
I had no explanation for Linda being in my house.
She drove me back to the school in the ugliest car I think I've ever seen—a lime-green Corvette.
“You know, I think you've lost it.” She pulled up next to a beat-up black Toyota Camry.
“Oh, ri
ght.” No wonder I didn't see it.
“We need to have a long talk when we get home.” I thanked her for the ride and got out. My keyring contained an unknown key, but it had to be the one I needed. By the time I opened the door, Linda had merged into traffic.
My problem slapped me. I didn't belong here, but worse I didn't know the person in this world. Whatever had happened, this world was angry and apathetic. I had to find Fritz, but I also needed to figure out how to get us back to our own time. Without artificial access to the portal, only thunderstorms would open the gateway. I needed to find out which classroom to use, which desk, even which paperclips. Had the school been hit by lightning in this world? Who can I talk to? Who can I trust? From all I've seen, I might be on my own. Twisting the key, the motor sputtered and started. Ten minutes later, I pulled in the driveway.
She had left the front door open, so I expected her to be waiting when I closed the door.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“In the bedroom. Packing.”
“Packing what?”
A moment later, we stood face to face. “I'm taking a break, going home for a few days.” She said that when she returned, she would move out. “Ashley, you're a nice guy, but this isn't going to work. I need more. Frankly, I never expected that a relationship with a teacher would be as bad an idea as my father said. But he nailed it. I'll get my stuff out when I get back.”
That might have been the best news I'd had all day.
She left with a suitcase and not a word. I had no idea how long she'd been here. I waited until I couldn't hear her car and with my pad of notes, I began to look around. The bike parked in my living room had a metal shield that read, “Miller Racing Co.” In smaller letters, in quotes, “Fast and Easy.” A can of some kind of oil, drips running down the sides, sat on the carpet. The lid added a new stain. A small paint brush rested in a grease puddle. I read the label, which told me nothing about how to clean the damaged rug, but the name of its manufacturer grabbed my attention. Badenhof Chemicals, Ltd. Another dead guy reincarnated.
The Portal At The End Of The Storm (Quantum Touch Book 6) Page 4