Window of Death (Window of Time Trilogy Book 2)

by DJ Erfert

  “My dad found me,” she said. “But he wasn’t—” Lucy stopped talking, and Johnny remembered she wasn’t sure her father didn’t do it.

  “Ma’am, do you have a picture ID?” Cross asked. He had a small notebook and pen in his hand.

  “Do you want me to get it for you?” Johnny asked quietly.

  Lucy nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “It’s on my dresser.”

  Johnny went to her bedroom, but he didn’t go alone. Officer Cross stayed close behind him. He couldn’t blame the cop for being so careful. Johnny’s ID was in his pant’s pocket on the floor at the end of the couch. Her thin wallet sat near the edge of the dresser, and Johnny took it back to her.

  “Here.” He then went to his pants and retrieved his ID.

  Lucy passed her wallet to Banks, and as he opened it she said, “I’m Special Agent Lucy James.”

  “You’re CIA?”

  Johnny grinned. They had the same surprised reaction he did the first time he saw her ID. Opening his wallet, he showed his badge and ID to Cross. “My name is Johnny Cartwright. LAFD.” It may not be as impressive as CIA, but he still had initials and a badge.

  “Do you live here, Mr. Cartwright?” Cross asked, writing down Johnny’s information.

  “No. I live about five miles from here. I’m just staying tonight after the break in.”

  Lucy moaned quietly, and Johnny wished he could take back his slip.

  “You had a break in?” Banks asked.

  “Of sorts. It’s nothing you guys can deal with.” The officers stood a little straighter. “I mean—oh, Johnny, I’m so tired.”

  Johnny sat down next to her and pulled her closer. “Officers, Lucy needs some discretion from you. The problem she had was work oriented so she can’t discuss it. She got home from an assignment tonight, and she’s very tired. We’re okay here. Can you wrap this up?”

  Banks handed the wallet back to Lucy. “Agent James.”

  “I’d appreciate you keep the agent aspect to yourself. Call me Lucy.” She pointed to the notebook in his hand. “And please don’t write down my occupation. This needs to stay just between us. Please.”

  Banks put the notebook away. “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned and said, “Yes, Lucy. I won’t write anything for tonight. But I was wondering. If you were alone when your mother—when the murder happened, you obviously were too young at the time to give any information to investigating detectives. Have you been approached since then?”

  “No,” Lucy said with a yawn.

  “Would you mind if I looked into this?”

  “Why?” Johnny asked. “Why bring this up?”

  Cross said, “It may help her with the nightmares.”

  “He’s right, Johnny.” Lucy stood up. “I think if you could at least find a report on it, then maybe I could get a little peace.”

  “Yes, ma’am—Lucy.” Banks took out his notebook again. “What city did this take place?”

  “Phoenix. I’ve only lived in Phoenix. And I’m twenty-nine.”

  “Your mother’s name?”

  “Sara Kelly James.”

  “Your father’s name?”

  Lucy hesitated for a moment before she said, “Jackson James.”

  “Okay. This is a good start. Is there a number I can reach you at?”

  Lucy took his notebook and pen and after a moment gave them back. “I’m really tired, officer. Are we through?”

  “Yes. We’ll get back on the road and let you go to sleep. Hopefully you won’t have anymore nightmares tonight,” Banks said, heading toward the front door.

  Johnny walked them to the porch. “Thanks for coming over so quickly. At least I know that she’d have back-up if she ever needs it.”

  “Not a problem, Mr. Cartwright—”

  “Johnny—”

  “Johnny. My name is Dale,” Banks said with his hand held out. As they shook, he said, “We’re just doing our job.”

  “Call me Chris,” Cross said with his hand extended. “We’ll keep an eye out for your girlfriend now that we know we have our very own secret agent living in our patrol area.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  He waited until the taillights disappeared around the corner before setting the trashcan in front of the door. The soda can went up next. Then Lucy grasped his hand and pulled him along into her bedroom. She flipped the light off and crawled underneath the covers without letting go of his hand. Johnny didn’t seem to have a choice. He scooted under the covers with her, got comfortable, and fell asleep listening to her steady breathing.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The toaster popped, and Lucy grabbed the two hot pieces of sourdough bread and immediately dropped them onto the counter, missing the blue willow plate she had aimed for. There was a knock at her front door, and she stuck her stinging fingers in her mouth and sprinted to the living room window. A pretty, petite blond stood on her porch waving.

  Throwing open the door, Lucy said, “Junie, come in. My breakfast is getting cold.”

  Junie came inside and followed her into the kitchen. “Toast? You’re eating toast?”

  “Yes, and I made it myself,” Lucy said proudly.

  “Didn’t Johnny feed you before he left this morning?”

  “No. We overslept.” Lucy turned around and said, “Hey! How did you know he stayed last night?”

  Junie only grinned. “When are you going to learn how to cook?”

  “I am learning.” She pointed at the toast. “See?”

  “You know, taking a cooking class out at the college wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I’d be too embarrassed.” Opening the fridge door, she said, “I need butter.” She leaned in closer. “Found it.” She took a knife from the drawer and proceeded to tear the toast apart while attempting to spread the pat of butter.

  “You’re not supposed to keep it in the refrigerator.”

  “It’s dairy. Where else would you keep dairy?” Lucy said, tossing the knife down in frustration.

  “On the counter,” Junie said quietly as she picked up the destroyed breakfast. “Or in the cupboard.”

  “Won’t it spoil?”

  “No, not for a long time, but that’s the only way to get it spreadable.”

  Lucy crossed her arms over her ribs and frowned.

  Junie place her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Don’t pout. It’s unbecoming of an agent.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Then do what all good agents do in a situation like this.”

  Lucy waited.

  “Get take-out,” Junie said with a lilt in her voice.

  Lucy took the torn toast from the blond’s fingers and began to eat. “Good idea. Let’s go.”

  ~*~

  “Are you finished yet?” Junie asked, peeking around the cubical divider.

  Lucy continued to type her report. “Almost. Take a seat, or go talk with your husband for a few more minutes and I’ll text you when I’m done.” The next chair slid out, and her friend sat down. “You’re not watching me write, are you?”

  Junie almost blocked Lucy’s view of the computer screen with her blond hair when she leaned over. “Of course not. That would be going against policy. You have a grammar error.”

  Lucy giggled softly and used her elbow to move her aside. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

  “I doubt it. Who’s going to say anything against our very own super agent?”

  Lucy hit the send key and her report went to central filing. “What are you talking about?”

  Junie glanced around. “I’ve been hearing people talking, but when they see me they clam up.” She leaned in closer and dropped her voice a little. “It sounds like your adventure in the Arizona desert has been leaked, and your fellow agents are impressed beyond greenness, if you get my drift.”

  “Oh, cripes,” Lucy whined. “For an agency known for its secrecy, classified information sure does get around.”

  “I think
it had something to do with an FBI Agent Monroe calling to find out about a report. He may have said too much. And you know how things bounce around.”

  Lucy groaned loudly. “That stupid …” She stood up and grabbed her handbag from the back of the chair. “Let’s get out of here before she shows up and I have to explain why I had to deck that loose-lipped little twit of an agent.”

  “Are we going car shopping now?” Junie asked, running to stay up with her.

  “I can’t think of a better way to spend my afternoon.”

  “Can you slow down a little? Your legs are longer than mine.”

  Lucy slowed her pace. “You know, I thought after I made Los Angeles my home that I would fit in better, but in the time that I’ve been here I still feel like an outsider. Like I haven’t been accepted.”

  “It could be because you hang around with the assistant director’s wife. That’s kind of intimidating.”

  Lucy shrugged.

  “And stories of your missions keep surfacing, and they impress the hell out of everyone.”

  Lucy punched the elevator button.

  “Before we met you, we all thought that Mac was the part of your team responsible for the successes you had.”

  “Be careful, Junie,” Lucy whispered. “He was my husband, and I loved him. He was a good agent.”

  With her voice barely above a whisper, Junie said, “And we both know how he was able to pull off most of those missions. He would have died years ago if it hadn’t been for your windows.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Lucy stepped inside. Junie stayed in the hallway. As the doors started to close, Lucy caught them and asked, “Are you coming?”

  Junie moved beside Lucy. “I thought maybe I overstepped my boundaries.”

  Lucy let loose of the doors. “No. If you can’t talk freely to a friend, then it’s not much of a friendship. And you’re right. Mac died 77 times.”

  Junie gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “That last time I didn’t know it was going to happen. I didn’t have a window because he wasn’t meant to die.” Lucy’s gaze fell to her friend. “I was.”

  “Jim’s assistant told me she stayed with you in the Paris hospital for two weeks, but you didn’t know she was there, you were wounded so badly.”

  Lucy touched the lobby button and nodded. “I’ve known Kate since she recruited me out of the university. In a weird way, I’m glad she knows my secret, too.”

  “You have some good friends here.”

  “I know I do.”

  “Johnny being your best.”

  Lucy smiled. “Yeah.”

  “Have you told him that yet?”

  The doors slid opened after Junie’s question, and Lucy found herself face to face with the loose-lipped little twit.

  “Agent James, I need—”

  Before the FBI agent could say another word, Lucy grabbed Junie’s bicep and tugged her off the elevator. “Not now, Agent Monroe. I’m with a suspect.” Junie began to drag her feet, just a little, and whine, just a little, as they walked down the hallway.

  After they got a fair distance away from the woman, Lucy peeked over her shoulder and saw the agent putting her phone to her ear as she disappeared into the elevator. Lucy counted to three, and said, “Let’s make a break for it!”

  She let go of Junie, and they both ran around the corner and headed for the security desk manned by a Marine with one of the only guns permitted in the building.

  “Sergeant Rodriguez, did an Agent Monroe leave her weapon here with you?” Lucy asked as he retrieved her .380 from a locker. The young Marine turned around quickly.

  “She had a weapon on her?” Rodriquez asked.

  Lucy sighed loudly. “The last time I saw her, she was interrogating a murder suspect alone with her gun still in its shoulder holster. I’d say there’s an excellent chance she’s still armed.”

  He handed Lucy her gun before opening his cell phone.

  “Let’s go,” Lucy said, tucking her .380 automatic into her ankle holster. “We don’t need to see this.”

  “I know,” Junie said, walking out the doors to the underground parking garage. “But wouldn’t you just love to be there when a group of armed Marines confront her?”

  Lucy laughed out loud.

  ~*~

  There was a certain fragrance that comes with a new car that can never be duplicated, and sadly, fades over time. Lucy ran her hand around the leather wrapped steering wheel and inhaled, appreciating every aspect of the Chevy Tahoe she was test driving. It was intoxicating and exotic. It … made her hungry.

  “Let’s go through a fast-food drive thru.”

  “What? Why?” Junie asked, setting the car’s brochure down on her knees. “We had lunch less than two hours ago.”

  “Only a snacks worth.” She grinned over at her friend. “I want to see how agile this size of truck is.”

  “You should buy that red corvette. It’s very agile.”

  “It is. I agree. But it would never carry more than two people, and forget about kids.”

  Junie sucked in her breath. “Are you planning to have children?”

  Lucy lifted one shoulder and pulled off the street into the parking lot. “I’d love to have a baby.”

  “With anyone in particular?”

  After she pulled up to the first menu box, Lucy said, “Of course.”

  Junie slapped Lucy’s arm. “Who?”

  “Do you want to order anything?”

  “Yeah, truth serum—for you.”

  Lucy laughed softly and pulled up to the second menu box. After the young man took their order, she pulled forward and stopped behind a short line of cars waiting for their food.

  “When are you going to tell Johnny you’re in love with him?”

  Lucy reached down to the edge of the cloth bench seat and gently ran her fingers along the stitching. “I … care for Johnny. I may even be in love with him.” She brought her gaze up to her friend and said, “But for the past two years since Mac died, I’ve been on my own, and I want to make sure that it is love that I’m feeling before I tell him that, and not just,”—she lifted one shoulder and said with a shy grin—“lust. Johnny is so hot. My skin gets goose-bumps every time he touches me, and his kisses make me forget to breathe.”

  Junie leaned closer, and she touched Lucy on the hand when she said, “That sounds like love to me.”

  “It could also just be infatuation.” Lucy sighed loudly. “How am I supposed to know the difference?”

  “I still have those feelings about Jimmy.” Junie patted Lucy’s hand. “I think that if you give yourself permission to give your heart away again, maybe then you’ll be able to find out.”

  Lucy couldn’t explain about the emotional transference she got from Johnny. Junie didn’t know he could see into her windows, either. Those were secrets she still kept from her friends, but they complicated her life more than before she knew Johnny. How could she tell his feeling of love from hers? Or were they one and the same?

  Nodding, Lucy said, “You may be—”

  A sudden rush of icy wind cut away Lucy’s breath, taking with it the surrounding color, leaving only the black and whites, and reflective chrome she’d grown used to over the years. All sound disappeared.

  It’s happening!

  The first person Lucy checked on was Junie—frozen in time, totally colorless. With relief in her heart knowing her best friend wasn’t meant to die, she continued searching for the deadly window.

  It wasn’t until a large, yellow vehicle rolled into view on the road adjacent to the restaurant that Lucy saw the surrealistic colorful window. It was a school bus. And it was loaded with small children.

  Inside, Lucy could see that the faces of the kids didn’t look disturbed, but the drivers’ terrified expression told of something different. The older woman’s eyes were wide, and her face had an unnatural blush to it, beyond what Lucy’s window would give it. Worse yet, the woman had tears streaming down he
r face.

  The bus wove erratically around several cars, well beyond the speed limit. When it bounced against the concrete median once, then twice, and then a third time, Lucy’s rational mind came to a conclusion. The bus had lost its brakes, and with every rotation of its tires it sped toward a stop-lighted T-intersection.

  Lucy was trapped into watching the bus plow through the intersection and get hit by an SUV hard enough for the bus to slide sideways onto the grassy strip separating the roadway and the LA River. At the speeds the big vehicle had traveled, the short concrete wall meant to keep cars from falling in was nothing more than a speed bump to the bus. It rolled over the wall and disappeared.

  The Lucy’s perspective changed and she could see over the edge. The normally dry canal was hip deep in filthy, swift-water. It swirled around the upside-down bus, breaching every shattered window with its powerful current, and washed little bodies out and down the river.

  Things changed.

  It was like it never happened.

  Time had rewound.

  Everything that had once been in black and white rebounded in color. The sound of the Tahoe’s engine returned, along with the ordinary city traffic noise. Clutching the Tahoe’s steering wheel, Lucy wondered if it was even possible to change the deaths she’d just witnessed.

  “Lucy, are you okay?”

  The small sedan in front of them pulled forward, giving her enough room to maneuver. “Buckle up. We’re going off-roading.” Lucy touched the emergency blinkers before shifting into a low four-wheel gear. She turned toward the short curb and climbed into the landscaping separating the restaurant from the street, crushing the low bushes as she drove onto the road.

  “What happened?” Junie shouted.

  Lucy took the four-wheel drive off and took the Chevy across all three lanes, crossing over the concrete median just as the yellow bus passed them. “That bus lost its brakes.”

  “You had a window?”

  “Yes, I did. Now buckle your seatbelt,” Lucy said, raising her voice above the sound of the revving V-8.

  “I’m trying,” Junie said as she struggled with the belt.

  The big engine roared as Lucy sped up alongside the bus. Sirens made her look away from the face of a child smiling down at her to her rear view mirror. A police car with its overhead lights flashing was racing toward her.