“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” Jack asked.
Lawson blew out a heavy breath. “Yes. Jones and I visited the lieutenant’s house numerous times before we were stationed in Bermuda.”
“Well,” Jack said, shaking his head as he checked the mirrors for more killer vehicles, “we drove past this sign four times and still haven’t found the place.”
“Things have changed over the last seventy years. The scenery, the roads—Hell, even the sky and water look different. We’re riding on a tarred surface in the swamps of Florida. Even this vehicle is so fancy compared to the Willis MB Jeep of our time. The lieutenant’s house was a shack compared to these new homes. It might not even be here anymore.” A very German and very bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle passed them with a damn daisy twirling on the driver’s right side. “Perhaps we could get there faster if you let me drive.”
Grinning, the captain glanced at Lawson and shifted the Jeep into forth gear. They traveled at fifty miles an hour, but cars weaved about and sped past them. Speed didn’t matter.
“That’s something Jones would say,” Jack muttered under his breath. “And maybe once we find him—if we find him—he can drive us to the base.”
“Right,” Lawson said.
Jack shrugged. “Seriously. I was—”
“No! Right! Turn right!”
Jack jerked the wheel hard. Tires screeching, the Jeep lurched around the corner, fishtailing. Spinning the steering wheel back around, the captain just managed to avoid hitting a mailbox, but two green rubber-like garbage cans had no such luck. After coming off the grassy curb, he got the vehicle under control and continued straight on the paved road.
Lawson shook his head. “I knew I should have insisted on driving.”
The captain slowed the vehicle to a crawl. “Maybe next time.”
Lawson resumed observing the neighborhood where people walked dogs, pushed strollers and rode bicycles. There were no pedestrian or cycle paths, so on the edge of the motorway, two older women strolled past at a brisk rate, their eyes covered by huge tinted glasses and their white hair poking out of hats with no tops.
“I sort of recognize this place,” Lawson grumbled. “Pull over.”
As Jack came to a stop, Lawson fumbled with the control buttons at his side, and all the windows rolled down. Grinning, he leaned his head out the window.
“Good morning, ladies. Would you happen to know where Michael Jensen might live?”
The women gazed at each other, seemingly puzzled by the simple question. “The only Jensen I know of had a house a few blocks away. Take the next left. It’s the yellow house on the right. After the stop sign.”
Following the directions, they turned the corner onto a surprisingly crowded street. “That’s it,” Lawson said, pointing to a house whose yard was littered with people. “I think.”
Jack parked behind a line of cars, disengaged the engine and pulled on the brake. The vehicle sputtered to a halt. They climbed out and joined the people milling up the drive. As they approached, an auburn-haired woman began jumping up and down in place, whooping happily. Two other women clustered around her.
“I found it! I found it!” the woman sang.
“What’s going on here?” Jack muttered, scanning the throng.
“It looks like some kind of sale.” Lawson pointed to the garage. “See, there’s a lady taking money.”
A tall blonde behind a wood table placed a crocheted tablecloth into a white translucent bag then passed it off to the old woman in front of her. “Thanks! Have a great day.”
When the silver-haired woman walked away with her purchase, Lawson approached the table. “Excuse me, ma’am. Do you happen to know who owns this house?”
“I do,” the blonde said with a smile, placing her money in a cashbox. “Are you interested in buying?”
“No. No. Are you Lt. Jensen’s daughter?”
“Lieutenant?” She laughed. “If you mean Michael Jensen, my grandfather retired as an admiral. But you don’t look old enough to have known my grandfather.”
Lawson exhaled the hope he’d been holding. They were some seventy years in the future, and the woman had used the past tense. That could only mean one thing.
“When did he die?”
“A little over a year ago. We all miss him.”
Lawson mumbled his apologies and turned to leave, then spun back. “Did your grandfather ever ask that nur—I mean, did your grandfather ever say how he and your grandmother met?”
The woman blinked and stepped back, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “Um…yes. My grandfather was stationed in Bermuda during World War II. My grandmother was a nurse at the base hospital there. A mutual friend introduced them.” Someone called out. “Oh, I have to help a customer. Feel free to wander around.”
When she rushed off, Jack grinned. “Jensen an admiral? Wait ‘til we go back and share the news.”
They watched Jensen’s granddaughter approach the lovely auburn-haired hooter from earlier. The two ladies greeted each other with big smiles and engaged in cursory conversation before money changed hands over a file storage box.
“That’s if we go back to 1944,” Lawson said, watching the granddaughter flutter away to help another shopper. “The reality is we’re probably stranded here.”
“Nonsense.” Jack waved off Lawson’s observation with a half-hearted chuckle. “The people in this time fly to the moon. Surely they’ve perfected time-travel by now. It’s just a matter of finding—” His grin instantly vanished. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?” Lawson asked, perplexed.
Jack swallowed hard. “That girl has my notebook. She just pulled it out of a box.”
Lawson followed his line of vision. “The one talking on the tiny radio?” he asked, scoping out the beautiful brunette.
“No, the girl standing next to her.”
Dressed in a top that showed her tummy, the young lady, maybe in her mid-teens, held a leather-bound book in her tanned arms.
“It’s mine. I mean, it was mine,” Jack explained. “I had to leave it with my personal belongings before we left. I have to get it back. It contains—obscurely of course—references to our mission along with other sensitive information.”
“How do you know it’s yours?” Lawson asked.
Before Jack could answer, the feisty little redhead in question piped up. “Hey, Mom, listen to this. The guy who kept this journal claims he was one of the best fighter pilots in World War II. It says here he was chosen as pilot for some mission called Sieg Heil.”
“He was a Nazi?” the mother asked, her fingers fluttering to her throat.
“Doubt that,” the gorgeous brunette said, leaning over the girl’s shoulder and studying Jack’s notebook. “It’s in English, and it looks like he’s writing in some cryptic way, so I don’t think so.”
Lawson pushed on the captain’s arm. “You wrote about the mission in your journal? What if it had been stolen or fallen into enemy hands? It could have blown our whole operation.”
“In code,” Jack ground between clenched teeth. “Didn’t you hear what she said?”
Lawson placed his index finger over his mouth to indicate that they should keep listening to the exchange. He wanted to remind the captain that breaking code wasn’t as difficult as anyone believed, and it was exactly what Lawson had been trained to do, but for now, they needed to pay attention to the women and gather information.
The girl mentioned Sieg Heil again.
“Jen, please stop saying that,” the sex-on-legs brunette requested as she pulled the tiny radio away from her ear. She pressed a long finger to the contraption, obviously irritated at whomever she’d been talking to on it.
“Why?” Jen asked, unperturbed.
“Because it’s a German phrase the Nazi’s used to say. You might offend someone.”
“I thought they said ‘Hail Hitler’ or something like that,” Jen giggled and offered a halfhearted German salute.
The brunette brought her hand over her eyes. “Em, control your daughter.”
“Honey, listen to your Aunt Kimber,” the girl’s mother insisted.
“Yes, Mom,” Jen drawled. “It’s not like I know German or anything. Considering we live in Florida, it makes more sense to take Spanish in school. What does the phrase mean, Auntie Kimber?”
“Hail Victory,” the poster girl whispered.
“Mom, I’m totally keeping the journal.”
“I’m delighted with the watch I found.” Em nodded and shrugged her shoulders. She polished a gold timepiece on her shirt.
“Guess that means I’m the proud owner of a mystery key.” Kimber scrunched her nose. “Probably opened some GI’s foot locker.”
“Ooo, lemme see y’all’s stuff,” Jen said in funny speak. “Betcha’s not as awesome as my leather-bound journal written by a hottie ace pilot.”
Laughing, the ladies held up their respective trinkets for comparison.
“That’s mine!” Lawson and Jack exclaimed simultaneously.
The three woman shifted focus, puzzled by the outburst, before returning their attention back to their purchase. Well, all except for the brunette. She appeared to be the cautious sort. Lawson noticed her studying him in her peripheral.
“What else is yours?” Lawson bit out under his breath.
“Not really mine, but ours. The watch,” Jack grumbled. “It’s Jones’. The woman named Em has our lucky charm.”
“And her brunette friend has my key,” Lawson added.
“Kimber, this is your kind of treasure chest.” Em motioned to the box’s interior. “I found that key necklace in that large envelope next to those old folders. Since you’re into wartime memorabilia, why don’t you take the whole box? It’s filled with all sorts of official military documents. Maybe you’ll find something worthy of your World War II collection.”
“Are you both sure?”
“I got what I wanted out of it.” Em placed the watch in her purse.
“And I really don’t care about antiques.” Jen shrugged. “I’m fine with the journal.”
“Thanks.” Kimber dropped the key inside the envelope before lifting the box. Joining Em and Jen, the three women walked together toward the road.
“What the hell do we do now?” Lawson grumbled. “Those dames have our stuff.”
“What I don’t understand is why they have it,” Jack said, running his palm down his face. “Somehow, our personal effects made it to the lieutenant’s house. Remember when we had to hand over all our possessions before we left?”
“Of course. That’s my key.”
“I say we follow those women and retrieve our belongings, and later, after we have our things back, we discuss our next move. Agree?”
“I’ll be right back.” Lawson held up a finger and stepped away, heading for the group of females.
“Where are you going?” Jack demanded.
Lawson looked over his shoulder and grinned. “To gather intelligence.”
He could hear Jack whistling as the captain strolled after him, clearly keeping enough distance so the women wouldn’t feel threatened by the arrival of two strangers.
Lawson approached the attractive females standing beside an orange vehicle.
“Why don’t you all come down to Emy’s Place and have something to eat?” The redhead smiled at the other women and looped her hand through the girl’s arm, knocking hips playfully with the teenager’s.
“Sorry, Mom, but I have swim practice and book club today. Later, Pops is picking me up from the library so I can sleep over. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” her mother replied. “Text me when you get back to grandpa’s place.”
“I can’t come either,” Kimber explained. “I need to make to quick trip to Miami.”
“But you’re on vacation,” Em complained.
“I know, I know. I’ll try to stop by later this afternoon.”
“Excuse me,” Lawson interrupted, addressing the sexy Kimber directly. “Do you have a moment?”
Dazzling hazel eyes shot daggers at him. If looks could kill…
“Bye,” the mother and daughter tittered, waving as they walked away.
While Kimber ignored their departure in favor of glaring at him, he smiled and waved back to the ladies.
Kimber raised perfectly arched eyebrows in query. “How can I help you?”
Damn, she smelled good. Her dark hair piled on top of head was haphazardly held in place by a clip. But it was the little tendrils that had escaped the toothed clasp that commandeered his attention. Watching them sway lazily in the breeze, it took everything in him not to capture one of the soft locks and wrap it around his finger.
“How can I help you?” she repeated tersely, her hands accurately communicating the same words she spoke aloud.
Fuck. He was supposed to retrieve their belongings, not sport the erection of his life. Focus, he thought, then smiled, more to gain self-control than to comfort her. “There’s no need to use sign language. My hearing is not impaired.”
Kimber crossed her arms and leaned back against the slick orange automobile. “Huh. Could’ve fooled me.”
Lawson purposely ignored the gibe. He’d only seen a few modern women, but decided he loved the casual, sexy way females of this time dressed. His body certainly did. This beauty wore a pink sleeveless shirt that pressed her full breasts up, showing a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Her pants, off-white, baggy and tied at her hips, outlined curves meant to fill a man’s hands. Cute, pink-painted toenails peeked out from brown leather sandals.
He glanced up only to meet Kimber’s disapproving expression. Perhaps he’d stared at her attire a little too long.
“Do you live around here?” he asked, casually shifting to relieve the pressure in his groin.
“Why do you want to know?” she responded, suspicion lacing the quiet words.
“I’m new to the area, and I’m looking for a place to stay. Can you recommend an inn?”
“Yeah, try the Flaming Flamingo. It’s right down the street.” She pointed behind him. “Oh, wow, look there.”
He turned and searched for “there” as prompted, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Was she pointing to the inn in the distance? He couldn’t quite see anything but houses.
When he turned back to ask for clarification, she was already in the driver’s seat with the door swinging closed. She engaged the engine before he could formulate another question. Then he realized he and his straining penis had been duped.
“Wait,” he called, reaching for the vehicle in some derisory attempt to stall her departure. “Please. May I take you to dinner?”
With a contemptible snort, she threw a, “cold day in Hell,” out the window and pulled off. Lawson just managed to jump back before she ran over his foot.
“Gee, thank you for your help, lady,” he quipped, waving at the retreating vehicle like an idiot. “It was a pleasure speaking to someone as ill-tempered as you.”
She suddenly slammed on the brakes and squealed to a halt.
Lawson allowed a smug smile to touch his lips as he lowered his hand. “Coming back, are we?”
Unfortunately, his budding hope that she would reverse was instantly dashed when she popped her arm out the window and stuck up her middle finger. She then peeled off.
Jack burst into laughter. “I’d bet that gesture means the same thing now that it did seventy years ago. You really wooed the pants off of her. It’s nice to know you still have a way with the ladies no matter what century you’re in.”
Lawson thinned his lips. “How much money do we have?”
Jack pulled the bills from his pocket and began to count. “We’ll consider it back pay and let the government worry about it.” The captain shrugged. “Far as I can tell, it’s close to two thousand. Not bad for a couple of old fogies like us,” he continued, splitting the stack of cash in two piles. “It’s a hefty sum, but I’ll bet the cost of living
has gone up—way up—since we got our last paycheck.”
“How do you know?”
“You should have seen how much money some of these people were forking over for broken stuff.”
Lawson took the money the captain handed him and stuffed the wad in his pocket.
“Grey, since your target left town until later, you go to the Flaming Flamingo and get us a place to stay. Leave a note at the desk of the hotel so I know where to find you. My target is the woman they called Em, which means I’ll head to the restaurant she mentioned. We meet tonight at the hotel to share intelligence.”
“I’m guessing we’re on foot until we purchase a new vehicle.” Lawson gazed at the MB, a longing in his gut. “It sure is a fine piece of machinery, but I don’t think we should use it anymore. This time has advanced technology. It’s possible the vehicle has equipment that will allow the authorities to find us. After all, we did steal it.”
“No, we borrowed it for official military use,” Jack corrected. “But you’re right. We leave the Jeep and let the authorities find it. The details of our mission were known by few, and I doubt anyone who worked on the project is still alive.” He paused, concern lining his forehead. “Do you think anybody will believe us if we tell them who we were and what happened to us?”
Lawson shook his head. “I doubt it. Remember what the mission scientists said about the many risks and dangers of changing the past, ruining the future irreparable, etcetera? I imagine the practical science of time travel has been kept from the general public.”
Jack ran a hand through his hair. “Then how do we get back to 1944?”
Lawson didn’t answer, but the unspoken “we don’t” hung in the air like pungent smoke. After all, there were a number of theorists working on the project, but only one of them truly understood the complexities of dimensional portals and time vortexes well enough to plot a stable trajectory—and that scientist was surely dead now.
He looked to Jack, who was busy staring down the street. Following the captain’s gaze, he saw the mother and daughter, Emily and Jen, in the distance.
Bought His Life Page 2