by Janet Leigh
“What key is this?” Jake asked, taking a seat at the table.
“The Sleigh key?” I asked Caiyan, and he nodded. I described the key to Jake, but before I could explain whose neck it was hanging around or tell him about Isla and Anna, Caiyan interrupted me.
“I was purchasing some art from a gallery in Berlin. There was an exhibit of lost treasures from World War II. These pieces were though’ to be lost in a fire that occurred in the Flaktürme Friedrichshain in Berlin. I saw a painting of a lass in a gold dress wearing a key. I recognized the key and did some research. There’s no record of any travelers using that key.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not in use by a brigand,” Jake said. “Did Mahlia know what you were searching for?”
“Aye, and who cares if a brigand loses a key? It’s why we are here, aye?”
“What did you promise her?” I asked, and he flinched.
“Any of the lost art she wanted. We planned to hide it under the Märchenbrunnen and retrieve it later.”
That explained how he’d conveniently had a shovel to dig the hole in the park. It was obvious to me that Mahlia was after the key.
“Why would she let you walk away with a key?” I was standing as I shouted the question. I felt cheated and lied to and mad.
Caiyan’s head jerked up, as if yelling at him was against the rules.
Jake raised a calming hand in my direction, and I huffed as I sat down, causing the legs of my chair to squeak against the floor.
“Why did you use Jennifer instead of Mahlia this trip?” Jake asked.
“I can answer that.” Gerald, one of the defenders on my team, casually strolled into the room. Gerald, who preferred to be called Gerry, was a dwarf, standing at four feet and five inches with reddish-brown hair and a bad attitude. His small stature kept him on the spy-and-tell side of the WTF and away from the horrid task of capturing a brigand.
“Were you eavesdropping?” Jake asked.
“Absolutely,” the dwarf said with a smile. “It’s my specialty.”
“OK, so tell us,” Jake said.
Gerry greeted Caiyan with a nod as he slid into the chair next to him. “Yesterday, I was down in the Flatiron district having lunch at Eisenberg’s Deli. You know, I was sitting at the counter eating my tuna on rye, and who should walk in but Mahlia and her evil brother Mitchell. They grabbed the table directly behind me.”
“Did they recognize you?” Jake asked.
“Not a chance. I tend to blend. Anyhow, I was sipping on my lime rickey when I overheard Mahlia say she couldn’t possibly travel this weekend because she was onto something big, and Jennifer Cloud’s brother, Eli, was going to get it for her.”
“Does Mahlia dating Eli have anything to do with your trips to Berlin?” Jake asked Caiyan.
“Mahlia is dating Eli?” Caiyan asked, and his gaze shifted to me. “Did ye know aboot this?”
I squirmed in my chair. “Yes, I was going to tell you, but then you almost got me killed, and it slipped my mind.”
He stood, chest thrust out and nostrils flaring, as he pointed at me and shouted, “When a brigand is crossing the line into yer family, ye need to tell yer defender.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t get that information firsthand, seeing as you’ve been all cozy with Mahlia yourself. Besides, you’re not my defender—Marco has that job now!” I stood, and we faced each other across the table.
Jake and Gerry watched as if they were in the front row at Wimbledon. “I’ve got ten bucks on the blonde,” Gerry said.
“She’s after more than jest Jennifer’s brother, I guarantee,” Caiyan said, taking his seat. I followed.
“Do you have any idea what that might be?” Jake asked.
Caiyan shook his head. “We have a bigger problem.” I didn’t think there could be a bigger problem than Caiyan lying to me, risking my life, and traveling with the bitch from hell—who was currently, as Ace would say, shagging my brother.
“Please, enlighten me,” Jake said, waving an exhausted hand in the air
“Toches is traveling again, and he has the key from Berlin and Marco.”
“Marco?” Jake asked, turning toward me. “Pickles told me he saw you blip to Berlin, and he was worried when you didn’t return for the meeting. I assumed McGregor was involved. He didn’t mention Marco.”
“Marco was rescuing me,” I said, frowning at Caiyan. I explained about meeting Anna and Isla, the fake Hitler, the fight between Marco and Toches, and the sleigh. I didn’t bring up the bombs or the art Caiyan had confiscated. No need to stress out the boss. My inner voice tucked away the information on the stolen art for safekeeping.
“I don’t have much intel on Toches. He hasn’t caused any problems since I was put in charge,” Jake said.
“Apparently, he was stuck in 1945,” I added.
“Someone must have taken his key in the past before he received it,” Jake said.
“Aye, and now he has the Sleigh key.”
“Your team should be arriving soon,” Jake said, scooting his chair back and standing. “Get something to eat. The travel lag is going to kick in, and I don’t need you falling asleep until I figure out what to do. I’ll be back in a moment.”
* * *
***
* * *
Caiyan and I stared each other down as we waited for the other members of our team to arrive. Travelers were sorted in teams, and ours included Brodie and Ace; Gerald and his transporter, Tina; Campy after he completes his training; and formerly me and Caiyan, currently replaced by Marco.
Each team was based on the brigands they were assigned. Now, thanks to Caiyan, Toches became a new brigand added to the mix in our already filled bowl. Ace rolled in a few minutes later, followed by Brodie. They both gave Caiyan a knuckle bump, showing their support for his presence. Ace grabbed a coffee from the credenza. Brodie sat down across from Gerald, wearing a big shit-eating grin.
“What are you so happy about?” Gerald asked.
“That’s the smile of a guy who is getting shagged,” Ace piped in, taking the seat next to Brodie.
“Must be nice.” Gerald looked at Caiyan and me. “I guess the two of you are taking a break. How about it, sweet muffin? Ever shagged a little person?”
I groaned and stood to get a cup of coffee. The travel lag was starting to affect me, and I would be napping soon if I didn’t infuse my veins with caffeine.
Gerald let out a sharp wolf whistle. “You know what they say: big things come in small packages.”
Caiyan grabbed the dwarf by the shirt collar and tossed him across the room. He took out two rolling chairs and bumped up against a filing cabinet.
Marco entered as Gerald was flying across the room. “Cool! Midget tossing—can I play?”
Relief overcame me as I rushed forward and threw my arms around his neck, hugging tightly. “You’re here?”
“You didn’t think that little weasel was going to take me, did you?” Marco asked, grinning and sending an admiring glance down the neckline of my red dress.
“What happened?” I asked, taking a few steps back.
“I’ll say this: kicking someone’s ass while traveling through time is freaking awesome!”
“Where is Toecheese?”
“When we landed, he was unconscious.” Marco cracked his knuckles.
“So ye jest left him with the key?” Caiyan asked, flipping his hand in the air in disbelief. “Why didnae ye bring him here?”
“My main concern was my transporter, Jennifer,” Marco said with an annoyed glance at Caiyan, and then his eyes gently found mine. “I had to make sure you arrived safely.”
Marco walked over and offered Gerald a hand, which the dwarf took, and Marco lifted him to his feet.
Although Gerald was a nasty little prick, I couldn’t help but be concerned. “Are you hurt, Gerald?”
The dwarf stood, brushing himself off, “Only my pride and my ass. But you could kiss it and make it all better.”
I ignored the comment and finished making my coffee. Marco sat down next to Brodie. I grabbed the plate of doughnuts from the credenza and placed them on the table in front of Marco, who immediately grabbed one covered in sprinkles. I took a seat next to Marco. Caiyan growled, and Gerald made a face at him.
Jake returned and scouted the room, making note of everyone present. He didn’t look surprised to see Marco, which meant Marco had already made his presence known to Jake.
“OK, everyone, settle down.” He tapped on his laptop, and a picture of Toches came up on the projection screen on the far wall of the room.
“This is Kishin Toches,” Jake started, but Gerald giggled.
“That’s Yiddish for kiss my butt.” He slapped his knee. “His mamma must have really hated him.”
Jake glared at him and noticed the chair next to Gerry was empty. “Where’s Tina?”
Gerald did a palms up. Tina was Gerald’s transporter and was always late. She rushed in a minute later. Her dark bob framed the sides of her face, which was flushed from the exertion of punctuality.
“What did Kishin do?” she asked, observing the face on the screen as she took her seat.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“Yes, before I became Gerry’s transporter, he was the main brigand that my defender followed.”
I didn’t realize she had transported for another defender. She looked to be in her late twenties, but I supposed she could be older. She always wore black and rarely any makeup. She sometimes masqueraded as a young man if the need arose.
She fidgeted in her chair. “He had a sad life. His grandfather died, leaving him a key when he was only thirteen years old. His parents died under unusual circumstances not too long after that, and he kind of lost his mind. He’s a slippery fellow. We never caught him, but a few years ago, he just disappeared.”
She dropped her head, and her eyes squinted shut. “Then my defender was killed by one of the Cracky clan, and I haven’t seen Kishin since. I would really like to get those damn Crackys thrown in the brig and tomb all their keys.”
Everyone at the table was nodding. I didn’t know any of the Cracky clan. Brodie and Ace had been the key duo to keep an eye on them.
We filled the team in on our trip to Berlin, and I told them I thought Isla had the gift.
“If she does have the gift, we have to get that key back to her,” Marco said.
Why was Marco so adamant about returning a key that had never been in use? A year ago, Marco couldn’t have given a flip about anyone but himself. I’d had to kidnap him to get his help, and now he’d joined the WTF and had a serious calling to risk his life to return a stolen key? My inner voice was holding up a sign that read Marco loves Jen. I called bullshit on that one. He wasn’t doing all this because of me. Something was off.
“I did some recon on Anna and Isla,” Jake said, tapping a few buttons on his computer.
I felt Marco shift uncomfortably beside me.
“Are you OK?” I asked him.
“Yeah, we should really try to get that key back to that little girl.”
“Are you saying you want to go back to 1945?”
“If it means doing the right thing.” Marco looked away when he said the last words, and I couldn’t help but think there was more to this story.
Jake spoke to the group. “The bakery suffered a direct hit in the war. Anna died in the bombing, and I can’t find any information on Isla.”
Marco jumped to his feet. “That’s not possible.”
“I’m afraid it’s what our records show.” Jake scooted a paper across the table for Marco. “It’s a miracle the three of you didn’t die in that air raid. It was the worst of all the raids on Berlin.”
“This can’t be happening,” Marco said, pacing around the room. Everyone turned to stare at him.
“Spill it,” I demanded. “I know there’s more to this key than Toecheese.”
“I will tell you, but…” Marco stopped pacing and stood with his hands on his hips, staring defiantly at the group. “I can’t tell you who the Sleigh key belongs to.”
“Why the ’ell not?” Ace sat back with his arms crossed. “Does he travel? Maybe he could join us?”
Brodie jumped in. “Absofuckinlutely. We’re bustin’ our arses every moon cycle. We need the help.”
“I agree,” said Jake. “Why doesn’t this person travel?”
Marco crossed his arms over his chest, and the dimple in his chin deepened as he held his jaw firm.
“The mystery traveler can remain anonymous, as long as we get the key away from the brigands,” Jake said. “Tell us what you know about the Sleigh key.”
“OK, here it is,” Marco said slowly. “When my grandfather was in his early twenties, he traveled back in time and met the lady in the gold dress.”
“The one in the painting?” asked Ace.
“Yes. He fell in love with her, but he was already married in his present time. I think my father was about two years old. My grandfather traveled back each month during the moon cycle to see her. When she became pregnant, he knew he couldn’t continue with his double life. He told her about time travel and gave her the key to give to their child. He promised to return when he could. Her parents forced her to marry a captain in the German army, and then she had Anna. I don’t know all the details, but the woman and her husband were killed in the bombings during World War I. My grandfather didn’t know Anna was still alive.”
Marco pulled up a chair and dropped his head between his hands. “Anna was sent to live with relatives in Czechoslovakia, who owned a bakery. After she married, she moved to Berlin, had a family, and opened her own bakery. The bakery was bombed in World War II, but Anna and Isla opened a new bakery together after the war. My grandfather and his business partner, Henri Cordero, visited the bakery in 1965. The picture of Anna’s mother was hanging on the wall, and Isla had the Sleigh key. It’s how they connected the dots.” Marco leaned back in his chair. “You see, Isla married Henri Cordero, and a year later they had a daughter, my mother.”
Silence filled the room. If Isla died, what happened to Marco and the owner of the Sleigh key?
“Whoa, that’s some heavy shit,” Gerald finally said, breaking the silence. “Isla is your grandmother?”
“And your mom is also your half cousin, sort of?” Tina asked, rubbing her temples at the heavy task of trying to connect the branches of Marco’s family tree.
“In a very distant way, yes. If they died, what happens to me?” Marco asked.
“We ’ave until the moon cycle ends to go back and save ’em,” Ace said.
“It’s impossible,” Jake said.
“Why?” I asked.
“We have no way to tell if Isla was killed or if Anna died before you returned to our time, and you can’t be in both places at once.”
“Then send someone else!” I demanded.
“It would be a suicide mission,” Marco said. “You saw what was happening when we left. The Red Army is in the middle of a hostile takeover of Berlin. Landing a vessel in the middle of that would be a miracle. I wouldn’t put another traveler’s life in danger to save mine.”
I shot Caiyan an evil glare, and he changed the subject. “Why was the key naugh in the Flaktürme?” Caiyan asked.
“It was never in the Flaktürme.” Marco shrugged. “My mother is on the board of directors of NEMO.”
“NEMO, like the movie?” asked Gerald.
“No, the Network of European Museum Organizations,” Marco answered. “She loaned some family items from our vault to the German Historical Museum in Berlin for an exhibition. The painting was included. I went to the museum to retrieve the painting before a random brigand might come across it, and the museum curator was in a frenzy, because the painting had been stolen.” Marco cut his eyes at Caiyan.
“Borrowed,” Caiyan grumbled under his breath.
“Shortly after, I was informed Jennifer was in 1945, and I connected the dots.”
�
�How are we going to save Marco?” I asked.
“Maybe we can git the little girl the key,” Brodie said. “Ya told us no one used the key, right?”
Marco nodded.
“Weel, if we take ’er the key and explain things, she can still meet up with Marco’s grandpa.”
Jake thought about this for a minute. “Let me do some recon on Isla. If she wasn’t killed in the bombings, I might get clearance to send a traveler back to take her the Sleigh key at a later date.”
“What if she was killed?” Ace asked.
“One thing at a time,” Jake said.
“First we have to get the key,” I said.
“Where’s the key now?” Jake asked.
“That idiot Toches crashed us on the beach. Right out in the open, for cripes sake.” Everyone seemed alarmed at the picture Marco had painted. “Surprisingly, we were on the Mafusos’ private beach in Amagansett.” Marco added sarcastically. “You know the house—the one where I got shot.” He glanced my way and then continued, “As you know, they’re the title sponsor for my racing team, and if they found out I’m now WTF, well…” Marco hesitated before he spoke again. “I don’t think it would be wise to let that happen.”
“What did you do?” Tina asked.
“I ran for cover in the trees and left Toches lying unconscious on the beach.”
Jake’s cell phone chirped as Marco finished his account of what had happened, along with another sprinkled doughnut. Caiyan remained unusually quiet.
Jake read his text and grimaced. “The Mafusos want a trade.”
“What kind of trade?” Brodie asked.
“They said they want the Tribal key.”
“Is that the Thunder?” Gerald asked. “I’ve never heard it referred to as the Tribal key.”
“Ye betcher ass it’s the Thunder,” Brodie said, scratching his bearded chin. “It’s from the Cracky clan, and they can’t ’ave it. I stole it fair and square.”