Some Time Away (Lovers in Time Series, Book 3): Time Travel Romance

by Marilyn Campbell

  * * *

  Maggie had found the first walk-around with Noah quite fascinating. What they'd been doing for the last two hours, however, was more of a sit-in. She had donned comfortable flats and a lightweight shift in readiness of whatever path they would be taking, but after a leisurely, arm-in-arm stroll halfway around the property, the oppressive afternoon heat had gotten to both of them and Noah changed the plan for the day. Choosing two, throne-like rattan chairs under a giant potted palm in the lobby, they had settled in. Huge fans blew a salty breeze through the open doors, making it relatively comfortable, which accounted for the number of guests doing the same thing they were.

  But she sure missed air conditioning.

  A wave at a bellman had gotten them copies of the hotel's weekly circular, the New York Times and the Chicago Tribune. The larger papers were three days old but current enough for what Noah had in mind. He had suggested they look for anything in the papers that might be relevant to their quest. He had also told her to let him know if she got a feeling about anything she read. The coverage of old news as if it were new was quite interesting but absolutely nothing raised a red flag for Maggie in the Trib or the Times.

  Noah handed her the multi-page circular. "Okay, try this one. It's mainly a promo piece for the hotel's amenities, but it also has a society gossip column and a schedule of upcoming events. It gave me an idea of how we could meet the Davenports."

  Maggie could tell Noah was still talking about his idea but an article on page two had her full attention. If he hadn't instructed her to use her intuition she probably would have ignored the way her gaze caught on a picture of a newly engaged couple. "We need to get an invitation to this party."

  He stopped talking. "What? What party?"

  She showed him the article. "It could be because of him or her or both of them. But I think they have something to do with why we're here. I can't explain—"

  "There's no need. Remember, I'm completely on board the anything's-possible train with your feelings in the conductor's seat." He took the paper back to read the first line of the article she pointed to. "Okay, let's see what we've got. 'Florida Legislator George Hampshire and his wife will host a reception in the Davenport's Sapphire Ballroom to celebrate the engagement of their son, Broderick, to Amelia Gaviston of the Chicago Gavistons.' It's tomorrow night."

  "We need to be there. Just thinking about it gives me the shivers. "I know we eliminated The Weeping Woman, but maybe she's the bride-to-be or one of the mothers."

  "Or maybe Broderick is the one we need to warn Robert Davenport to stay away from. It says the Hampshire family leases a cottage on the island, so it would be logical for them to be acquaintances of the Davenports."

  Maggie sat forward. "So they would probably be invited to the reception as guests."

  Noah refolded the two larger newspapers, set them on the wicker table in front of them then scanned the article again. "I'm not sure about one of them being The Weeping Woman, but I don't think we can completely dismiss the parents of the happy couple for other reasons. Prohibition offered a lot of opportunity for a crooked politician. And this write-up makes the Gavistons sound like an old-money family. I can think of several different motivations for murder with this group of players."

  Maggie smiled. "Just thinking of television crime dramas, I can come up with at least a half dozen."

  "Well, unless something more obvious triggers your intuition, I'd say we get an invite to the party and see where it takes us."

  "Sounds good to me. Any ideas on how we might manage that?"

  Noah grinned slowly. "Yeah, I think I've got a good one." He removed the page with the reception announcement, folded it and put it in his pocket. "First rule for getting away with a lie is to stick as closely as possible to the truth. I'm a bestselling author wanting to set my new book here. As my assistant... and wife, it will be your job to brag about how popular I am and how good it would be for the hotel to have me mention it. Of course, if I'm going to use the hotel, I'll need to be able to get a good look around the whole place. If we act important enough and drop a few famous names, no one should question our story." They discussed a few different possibilities then walked over to the concierge.

  Maggie hardly got their cover story out before the man escorted them directly to the manager's office and introduced them.

  Mr. Eckhart was a slightly built man with a bald crown surrounded by a ring of thin, gray hair. He looked both nervous and exhausted but he rose instantly and greeted them as though he had nothing to do more important than talking to them.

  Maggie put on her most serious, professional expression and rattled off some make-believe titles in hopes the man wouldn't know the difference. "I'm sure you're familiar with Mr. Nash's very popular novels—Coming Home, Sophie's Journey and, of course, the one they're making a movie of, Saving Private Jones."

  The man's head bobbed vigorously. "Oh my, yes, of course. Naturally I was alerted that you were guests and was truly hoping I would have the opportunity to meet you both." His smile wavered. "Is there a problem? Was our hospitality fruit basket delivered?"

  She pursed her lips. "There was no fruit basket but otherwise everything is satisfactory. In fact, Mr. Nash would like to have it noted that the maid assigned to our bungalow was exceptionally helpful this morning. He would like an extra dollar put in her pay envelope this week from him. She said her name is Moira Flanagan."

  Mr. Eckhart frowned, clearly having no idea which maid she was, but he scribbled the name down on a piece of paper with a dollar sign. "That is very generous. I'm sure she will appreciate it. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

  Maggie quickly delivered their almost-true cover story, which he bought just as quickly. "Besides a tour of the back offices, he would like to interview Robert Davenport."

  "I don't see a problem with that. I will check with Mr. Davenport about his schedule and let you know."

  "Mr. Nash would also like to attend one of the hotel's bigger social events. There's a high-society party scene in his new book and he would like to make it as realistic as possible. Is there something like that scheduled in the next day or two?" She forced herself to keep breathing as he looked at his calendar.

  "As a matter of fact, there is a reception in the Sapphire Ballroom tomorrow evening that could be ideal for Mr. Nash's purpose. Of course I will have to speak to the client but under the circumstances, I would think he would be delighted to have Mr. Nash as a guest."

  "And my wife," Noah added quietly, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the manager's office.

  Mr. Eckhart smiled nervously. "Of course. Of course. I will have a message delivered to your bungalow as soon as I have all the arrangements made."

  "Thank you," Maggie said, holding out her hand without thinking. The man looked at it with a bit of surprise but then touched her fingertips with his. "Is there anything else I might assist you with today? Perhaps dinner reservations?"

  She turned to Noah. "What do you think, dear?"

  Noah fought a grin. "I was thinking about something outdoors at sunset."

  The manager's smile was confident this time. "I would suggest the Emerald Patio at seven thirty. Because of the heat, jackets and ties are optional for gentlemen." He gave Maggie a quizzical look.

  "That will be perfect," she replied with an approving smile. Without another word, the famous novelist and his wife/assistant left the manager's office.

  Maggie and Noah maintained their aloof expressions until they were back inside the bungalow, then he picked her up and swung her around. "You were fantastic!"

  "I know," she exclaimed. "That was so much fun. Well, as long as you ignore the fact that we might be tracking down a killer."

  "I don't know why I'm surprised but you just got even sexier for me.

  She rose on tiptoes to give him an appreciative kiss and immediately felt his body's reaction. "Oh, my."

  His mouth came back to hers with a hunger that stripped away her
common sense.

  Knock. Knock. "Bellhop."

  Noah broke the kiss but kept Maggie in his firm embrace. "Yes?" His voice came out as strained as he felt.

  "Mr. Nash?" a man's voice called from outside. "I have a message for you from Mr. Davenport."

  "Leave it," Noah replied then his mouth returned to Maggie's.

  The next sound was the man clearing his throat. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I'm instructed to wait for an answer."

  Noah took a slow, deep breath. "One moment."

  Maggie pushed against Noah's shoulders and gave him a disapproving look that cleared his mind the rest of the way. A heartbeat later he stepped back from her and mouthed that he was sorry. She pantomimed that she was equally responsible.

  Noah opened the door wide enough for the bellman to hand him the envelope, then he closed the door again. He took another deep breath, took the message out of the envelope and held it out so he and Maggie could read it together. The personal stationery inside bore the initials RD embossed in gold and contained one scrawled sentence.

  I have a free hour at 5 if you would like to come to my suite.

  Noah glanced at his pocket watch then Maggie. She nodded. He reached into his pants pocket and dug out a dollar bill. Again opening the door only a few inches, he handed the man the tip and said, "Let Mr. Davenport know we'll be there."

  "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." The man had a big smile as he hurried away.

  "I'm pretty sure you're over-tipping," Maggie told Noah as soon as he'd reclosed the door.

  Instead of responding to that, he asked, "Do we need to talk about what just happened?"

  She gave him a crooked smile. "I don't know what else there is to say. You're the one with... experience. This is all new to me."

  "My experience does not include the kind of hunger you stir up in me. I don't remember ever feeling like I couldn't stop myself. If that bellman hadn't knocked..." He shook his head. "Now that I think about it, we came straight here from the manager's office. How did he get a written response from Davenport and have it delivered so fast?"

  "Maybe another trick of that supernatural power... like they had to make sure we understood just how vulnerable we are to our human nature." She shrugged. "However it happened, it worked. Now, I barely have an hour to get into something appropriate for meeting the owner and I definitely need to rinse off." She took a step toward him and sniffed. "So do you."

  He pretended to look offended. "Just for that I'm taking the first turn in the bath—"

  "That's what you think," she said with a laugh as she rushed in front of him.

  She only got as far as the bedroom before he grabbed her waist, effortlessly lifted her and dropped her onto the bed. But before he could get into the bathroom, she bolted up and managed to give him a hip shove out of the way. He grasped her wrist at the last second and yanked her back to him. Both laughing heartily, he kissed her forehead then gave her a gentle push to the finish line. "Hurry up," he teased. "You're going to make us late."

  Chapter 14

  In an attempt to give a businesslike impression, Maggie had changed into the dowdy outfit and borrowed a tablet and pencil from the concierge. However, the trip to the Diamond Suite threatened her confident air. Because of old movies, she had seen elevators with grated doors and visible gears and pulleys. The one they were currently in required a skilled operator to work the interior handles and levers. It was interesting from a historical standpoint but being in one of the antiques was a lot scarier than she would have imagined. She clutched Noah's hand the entire, shaky, painfully slow ride up to the fifth floor.

  The elevator operator waited as they exited the metal thrill ride and pressed the buzzer for the private suite.

  The door was opened a few seconds later by a tall, middle-aged woman with excellent posture and short, finger-waved blond hair. "Mr. and Mrs. Nash. How nice of you to stop by. I'm Patricia Davenport. Please come in." She stood aside and closed the door behind them.

  Maggie thought she could see a slight hint of Lillian Davenport in Patricia's posture and confident demeanor but she barely recognized the suite. Instead of the one great room she and Noah had checked into, the area was walled off into several rooms. Mrs. Davenport led them into the one closest to the front door. A tall, thin man with nearly white hair rose from his chair behind the desk as they entered. His height and coloring definitely reminded Maggie of his granddaughter.

  Offering a broad smile and his hand to Noah, he said, "Robert Davenport. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nash."

  "Likewise," Noah said, giving the man's hand a firm shake. "Please call me Noah. And this is my wife and publishing assistant, Maggie."

  Remembering the manager's reaction to her extending her hand, she simply smiled and nodded.

  "Thank you, dear," Davenport said to his wife with a note of dismissal in his tone. "Give us a knock in about forty-five minutes." Patricia gave him a look, then nodded and gently closed the office door.

  Maggie recognized the polite way Davenport had let them know how much time they were being granted. She also noted that his wife's parting look seemed to contain a message of some sort. Perhaps they were in the midst of an argument when they'd arrived.

  Robert Davenport settled into the chair behind the desk and motioned for them to sit in the straight-backed chairs in front of them. It reminded her of how his granddaughter had done the same thing. "I'm afraid I don't have any of your books," he said apologetically as he nodded toward the high bookcases. "But I've heard wonderful things about your writing. I understand you're working on a book to be set in our hotel. While I see how that could be advantageous I would hope that your story would not cast an unsavory shadow over the property."

  Maggie suddenly realized they hadn't actually talked about the book Noah was supposed to be writing and she hoped he didn't stick close to the truth for this part.

  "A portion of the book would take place in the hotel but I assure you it's my intention to glamorize it and its guests. It's a tale of a young man who lost an arm in the war and is unable to pursue his dream of becoming a boxer. Then his fiancée breaks their engagement and he's thinking of killing himself. But he has a chance meeting with the owner of the hotel and, well, I hope you don't mind if I don't give it all away."

  Davenport was obviously intrigued. "I understand, but perhaps you'll at least tell me if the owner helps this poor young man find his way to a good ending."

  Noah nodded. "Absolutely. He's a bit of a guardian angel in human form."

  Davenport brightened considerably. "That sounds very entertaining. How might I be of assistance?"

  Noah began with reasonable questions about owning and running a large hotel for wealthy guests and Maggie scribbled madly on her pad. Only she could tell Noah's questions were all phrased to uncover any possible motive for the owner to be murdered but thus far she hadn't heard a single thing that seemed relevant to their investigation.

  She let her mind wander away from the words being exchanged between the men and thought about Mrs. Davenport. The initial impression she gave was of an upper-class woman who was content in her wifely role. But according to hotel history, Patricia and her young son, Chester, managed to keep the hotel going after Robert's tragic death, through the Depression and the Second World War. That had to have taken an incredibly strong, savvy woman. Was she the true power in their relationship or did her husband's death force her to take on a role she'd never chosen to play?

  Maggie's intuition told her the Davenport marriage was probably an arrangement rather than a love connection, which led her to an interesting possibility. Rather than being the grieving widow who did what she had to do to support her child, could Patricia have been relieved by Robert's death? Or worse, could she have been involved? What if Lillian wasn't as concerned about her grandfather being called suicidal as she was afraid of someone uncovering a much uglier truth about how he died? Maggie felt something brush her arm and flinched. The contact felt very real yet
nothing was there.

  "Have I forgotten anything?" Noah asked Maggie, though his look was one of concern for what had made her twitch.

  She flipped through the pages of her pad as if checking her notes. "A few things. You had wanted to ask him about whether he would ever consider taking on a partner."

  Davenport laughed. "Goodness no. I consider the island to be my family legacy. Patricia and I only have the one son but I've built something here that should stand long after his grandchildren are grown. I would never share this with an outsider."

  Noah nodded to her to ask another question so she did. "One of the plots Noah is considering involves the owner's life being in danger and the young man saves him in the end. What sort of threat might you face in your position? If not a greedy partner, what about a competitor?" Something stopped her from suggesting a more intimate motive for murder.

  The man furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin. "I can't imagine such a thing. Florida is wide open to developers. It's a gold mine for anyone brave enough to conquer the terrain. It will be a long time before hotel owners have to fight over guests."

  "That's very interesting," Noah replied. "I've heard rumors that the Florida land boom is waning."

  "Poppycock. Those rumors were undoubtedly started by someone trying to drive the values down for their own investment purposes."

  Maggie watched Noah quash the urge to correct Davenport's misconception and came to his rescue. "Can you think of any other enemies a Florida hotel owner might have?"

  "Hmmm, you say this is a good man, a guardian angel, so that would seem to eliminate him willingly being involved in any sort of unethical or immoral activity. And quite frankly, under the, uh, current restrictions on alcohol, I have had to establish good working relationships on both sides of the law... not that prohibition is much of a problem this far south." He gave it a bit more thought then shrugged. "Sorry, nothing comes to me that would be life threatening. Unless..."