Murder Through Time (World Bureau Legacy Book 1)

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Murder Through Time (World Bureau Legacy Book 1) Page 4

by A. R. Grosjean


  Billie jogged along the bike trail that ran along the river. Her morning routine always was the same. She slowed down as she reached the bridge for her normal stop. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a pony tail this morning, but a few of the strands shook loose from the run. She stopped for a moment to pull her rubber band out of her hair. She pressed her hair back into place and returned the blue rubber band. Billie noticed the bench wasn’t occupied this morning, so she paced to the bench and sat down. She checked her vitals and took a sip of her water. The jogging suit that her mother had given her when she got on this health kick came in handy for these runs. The snug pants were green with a long white stripe that started at the hip and followed her leg, down to the ankle. It was covered in pockets and loops. The loops held everything she’d need—a bottle of water, a compartment for her cell phone, and a small bottle of pepper spray just in case. That was something her father always insisted she’d keep with her. Fort Lane wasn’t that bad of a city, but it always made him feel better when she carried it. She wore a sports bra with a heavy t-shirt over it since it was a little cooler this morning. Normally, she’d wear a tank top, otherwise.

  Billie took another sip before returning the bottle to her hip. She noticed her shoelace had gone untied, so she bent over to tie it. As she straightened back up, she noticed something in the pile of rocks on the other side of the trail. The rocks were used to keep homeless people from sleeping under the bridge, but they always found a way to create sleeping spaces, especially under this bridge.

  At first, Billie thought it was a homeless woman taking a nap, so she wasn’t about to disturb her. She couldn’t tell what the woman looked like since the woman’s back was facing her. What she could tell, was that the woman had a similar shape and size as hers—tall, small frame, and blonde hair. She watched the woman for a little while as she rested on the bench. Her jog was almost finished, and she still had a lot of water left, so Billie decided to share the water with the woman. She stood up and inched towards the sleeping woman, being careful not to wake her. She froze when she saw the woman’s hand. She looked at her hand and saw the exact ring on her own finger. She compared the ring with the woman’s and couldn’t believe how similar they matched.

  “Are you okay?” Billie thought to ask. She hadn’t moved since she noticed her. Billie wasn’t about to touch her, so she called the police instead.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a gentle voice from a woman asked.

  “Um, yeah, there’s a body under the Harrison Street Bridge. I think she’s dead.”

  The conversation went back-and-forth between Billie and the operator for a few minutes. Billie kept her eyes on the woman’s body. By then, other people began arriving. A man in blue jeans and a striped red and white Polo shirt stepped forward, then crouched down to checked for a pulse. He agreed that the woman was dead. Billie relayed that information to the operator. She was nervous and couldn’t believe something like this was happening to her. As the shaking became visibly noticeable, the man who arrived first took over the phone call and Billie sat down on the bench. There was a vague feeling that she knew who the man was, but she couldn’t remember from where.

  When the police arrived, the man gave the phone back to Billie and disappeared in the crowd. Billie, still in shock, remained sitting on the bench while a woman officer asked her questions about what she had seen. There was nothing to tell really. The officer stood in Billie’s view of the dead woman so she couldn’t see what the paramedics were doing with the body. She was glad about that but at the same time, she was curious. She hadn’t even noticed when the paramedics arrived, but they were there and quickly removed the body.

  “That is all I need for you. If anything else comes to mind, give me a call,” the officer said as she handed Billie a card. Billie looked it over, tried to smile, and tucked the card into the slot with her cell phone.

  “So, I can go now?” Billie asked.

  “Yes,” the officer said. The woman walked away from her and began asking other people questions as another officer spoke to a few people as well. The trail was filled with officers, paramedics, and on-lookers. Billie couldn’t believe how quickly everyone had gotten there.

  “Billie Reynolds?” a man asked.

  Billie turned her head and saw a man just a little older than her smiling back at her. The man’s skin was velvety soft and his eyes—his eyes were the perfect shade of green that she had ever seen in her life. There was something about him that made her feel comfortable. Was it his good looks? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. This was a man she would have wanted to bring home to her parents, but it wasn’t the right time since they had both passed away, and this guy was a detective—judging by his clothes. Billie pushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and smiled at the man. “Yes, I’m Billie.”

  “Hello, I’m detective Marcus Stanley. Did you touch the woman?” he asked her as he revealed his badge.

  “No, no, I couldn’t do anything like that. Why?”

  “No reason, it’s just a routine question. When you saw the body, did you notice anyone else in the area?”

  “No, it was just me. Do you think the killer is around here somewhere?” Billie asked in a raised voice. She looked around and noticed the man from before again. She studied his face, ignoring the detective for a moment. And then she remembered him. “That’s not possible.” She didn’t realize she had said it out loud.

  “What isn’t?” Marcus asked.

  “No, I could have sworn I saw that guy before, but I was so much younger. He looks the same age. It can’t be him.”

  “Can you point him out to me discreetly?” Marcus asked. He seemed interested in the man.

  Billie explained where the man was standing and what he looked like. It helped that another officer had been speaking to the man, so Billie pointed that out too. The detective glanced in the man’s direction and his face turned white. Billie wasn’t sure why that would happen unless he knew he must have been the killer. She became nervous again. “I’m sorry, can you take me home?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take you right now.”

  The detective escorted Billie in the opposite direction, the way she was heading before she had seen the body. They walked right past where the body had been. Billie watched the area as they walked up the hill toward the street. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, ask me anything you want.”

  “The woman was wearing a ring. It looked exactly like this one.” She showed him the ring and he looked at it closely. “I had this ring made custom. As you can see, it’s my birth stone with the school’s name on it, and under the stone is a crucifix. There shouldn’t be another one like it but yet that woman had it on her finger. How is that possible?”

  “Maybe it’s not as custom as you think?” Marcus said.

  Billie could tell he was holding something back. She stopped walking and turned around, facing the bridge. She watched the man with the black glasses. “I know my ring was custom made, and that man hasn’t aged since I saw him last. What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

  Marcus moved to block her view. “There are a lot of things you don’t know, and I can’t tell you here. Please, let me take you to a safe place. I can tell you everything then.”

  Chapter Six

  Marcus knew he had to tell Billie something, otherwise she’d run away from him. He wouldn’t be able to protect her if she was running. Keeping her close was the best thing for her. He had to break one of the rules of time travel, but it wasn’t like time travel was even possible since the time stream was malfunctioning now. He led her to the bureau provided car, which was black, and closed the door once she was safely inside. He hurried to the other side and climbed in, starting the engine as quickly as he could.

  Marcus had recognized the man, too. He still wasn’t sure who the man was, but he was there when Marcus was leaving the docking station in the year 2244. And now he just happened to be here with him in the year 2022?
Something wasn’t right. Was he the real killer? Was Ryan telling him the truth—that he had been framed?

  Marcus checked the mirrors before pulling out of park. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t being followed, so he took different streets. “What can you tell me about that man you remembered?”

  “I don’t remember too much about him. He was my parents’ friend. More of my mother’s, but I remember him hanging out at the house when I was little. He was there when my father died, too. His name is Charles, I think.”

  “All right.” Marcus didn’t know anything about her family, so he was going to have to fish for those answers. He didn’t want to ask too many questions, too quickly. So those questions would have to wait until they were in a safer location. “If I take you home, can you gather what you need for a few days quickly?”

  “Yeah. Am I in danger?”

  “I’m going to be honest with you Billie, yes you are.”

  Her body became tense as he quickly drove her to Superior Street, where she lived. Billie kept watching the buildings pass by as he drove down the street. He wondered what she was thinking. Obviously, she had to be nervous and even scared, but she acted as though she trusted him. He was glad she did, because if that was the case, protecting her would demand that trust.

  Marcus continued watching the mirror as he took another turn. So far, no one was following them, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. If that man had anything to do with the other murders, he was going to be stopped. He began to feel guilty for thinking Ryan could have done this. He still hated him, but that was personal, this wasn’t.

  He took another turn, with only a couple more blocks to go. Since all the murders had been at her house, he would have to stay on his toes to keep her safe.

  “Wait a minute, I live down the street. How did you know where I lived?” Billie finally asked.

  “Because, I’ve been there before,” he told her.

  “When? Was I there? Are you the killer?” There was panic in her voice.

  He answered every question with one long breath. He didn’t want to frighten her. “It hasn’t happened yet, yes you were there, but you were dead, and no, I’m not the killer.”

  “What do you mean it hasn’t happened yet? Oh, my God, I’m dreaming. I can jump out of this car and not be hurt,” she said as she began to open the door. The car was still moving. Even at this speed, she’d be hurt.

  Marcus grabbed her arm as her hand was still on the handle. Jerking her back caused her to pull the door closed. “Are you trying to kill yourself? If you die, I can’t protect you, Billie. This is not a dream. I will explain everything once we’re in a safe place. Please, you have to trust me for now.”

  “I’m not dreaming?” Her voice was shaking now. It was like reality finally kicked in. He wasn’t sure but he did know, her life was not going to end on this day. Or any other day, if he could help it.

  “No, you’re not dreaming. I know how strange this is. Believe me; if I were in your shoes, I’d be just as freaked out as you are. But you are not dreaming. You are in real danger, and I’m going to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t know why, but I believe you. Park in the front.” Her voice was still a little shaky, but it appeared she’d calmed down a little.

  Marcus was glad. As per her instructions, he parked on the street in front of the house. It was a quiet neighborhood with houses built close together. A tree line followed the street for blocks, and they were full of red and orange leaves as the season changed from fall to winter. The lawn was well cared for with a few leaves that had dropped from the nearby trees. The house Billie owned was made of pre-made rocks that looked authentic but were fake. The front porch was made of concrete that dumped onto wooden steps, but they appeared to be in synch with each other seamlessly. Long white painted beams held the roof over the porch. This was a place where Marcus could see himself living if he had married Sara once upon a time ago.

  They rushed to the front door, following a concrete sidewalk that had failed to withstand the changes of weather over the years, with Marcus in the lead. He stopped her from opening the door. He placed his finger over his mouth, signaling to her to remain quiet. He pulled out his weapon and slowly opened the door. “Stay behind me,” he whispered.

  She nodded.

  Marcus took one giant step over the threshold, keeping his weapon ready to fire. He looked left, right, then straight ahead—each time the weapon pointed in the direction he looked. He checked behind the sofa in the living room and the closet on the other side of the room. He quietly approached the next room, then the next. Wherever Marcus went, Billie was only inches behind him. As he entered the kitchen in the back of the house, he glanced over his shoulder. He only saw Billie. He remembered seeing the back door boarded up when he was there in the future. He didn’t say anything about it yet, but he made a mental note to ask about it later. He didn’t feel safe with it like that. If she was going to live in this house, that would need to be fixed.

  Marcus returned to the front of the house and went upstairs. He checked every room, every closest, and he even checked the shower-tub combo. He smiled at that. Once he knew they were alone in the house, he began to speak freely. He returned his weapon to its holster, which hung from his shoulder inside his jacket. It was the only place that made sense with his pants not having loops.

  “Go pack one bag. I’ll wait here in the hallway.”

  Billie nodded her head.

  The stairs opened to the back of the house where her bedroom was. Marcus followed the railing to the front where there was a window. He kept his shoulder facing the window so he could watch the street while watching the stairs at the same time. It was the only way to the second floor. He would remain hidden but would see everything. It was quiet, too quiet.

  “Are you doing all right in there?” He yelled out.

  “Yeah, I’m just about finished. I can’t find my sweater.”

  Marcus rushed to her door, which was left open. He peered inside.

  “Found it!” She hadn’t noticed that he moved closer to the room and smiled when she saw him. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right. You ready?”

  “I think so.”

  “All right, let’s go.” He led her down the stairs. He was alert and kept his eyes peeled for any movement that wasn’t their own. He peeked around the corner before heading to the door. It had been left open so they could leave in a hurry.

  Billie carried her one dark green duffle bag over her shoulder, as she remained only inches behind Marcus. He kept looking behind him to make sure she was all right. When they reached the car, he grabbed her bag as she climbed into the backseat, and tossed the bag over her lap, to the other side of the car, simultaneously. He rushed over to the other side of the car as he checked his surroundings. He wondered why no one was trying anything, but he was glad no one had. When he closed his door, he returned his weapon to its holster, started the engine, and drove off. “We’ll make one quick stop before we reach the hotel.”

  “What for?”

  “Food and other essentials.”

  “Are you planning on hiding for a while?” she asked.

  “I always plan for more than what I need. It’s kept me alive all these years,” he explained.

  “All right.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ryan opened his eyes and looked around. He wasn’t sure where or what year he was in. He tried to remember the last couple of minutes. He thought back to the fight he had with Marcus. He regretted not telling him the truth from the very beginning. Had he done that, they would have still been friends, laughing over Sara by now. He shook his head, trying to get it out of his mind. He had more important things to worry about. Where was he? What time had he been dumped in? He could tell by his surroundings; it wasn’t the year 2244. No flying cars. The air had a different scent to it. It was familiar, yet he couldn’t put his finger on it. Even the chilled air was different, somehow.

  He looked up, studying t
he stars' placement. He knew that they would change location with the earth’s rotation, but it wouldn’t tell him about the year he now found himself in. He did know it was in the fall due to the temperature. Ryan was the type of guy who could wear t-shirts all year-round, but even he could get cold. This was one of those days when the cooler temperatures went straight to his bones. Maybe it was the vintage material. They didn’t make these shirts like this in his time. It was his favorite shirt.

  Because of the time quake, he didn’t have the handcuffs on. His wrists thanked him for that. The weapon he had was still in the time chamber, and he felt naked not having it. That was another mystery he had to solve because he had never lost and replaced his weapon, so how was his weapon used to kill Billie?

  Ryan checked his surroundings again, trying to figure out where and when he was. His mind was a jumbled mess, so before he could figure out the who, why, and how questions that plagued his mind, he had to figure out when he was. Once that question was answered, he could focus on the others.

  Ryan hid in a darkened alley until daybreak, since he was a wanted man. He didn’t want to risk trying to locate his hide-out or a newspaper in the dark. Once someone has a warrant, every time period would be sent an alert and the local police departments would be notified. So, if he was pushed far enough in the past, he’d have more shields looking for him than he’d be comfortable with. Every face could be someone behind a badge. He wasn’t as good as Marcus at hiding, so the alley was his best choice.

  Once the sun lifted into the sky, he searched for a newspaper, finding one last copy inside a newspaper box, and discovered they had somehow gone further into the past. He couldn’t believe it. But that also meant Billie Reynolds would still be alive. He asked a man who was walking by for the time and set his watch accordingly. The man was wearing torn clothing, which was against the bureau’s permitted wardrobe, so he felt confident that he wasn’t an agent. After he scooted away from the man, he realized the old man could have been undercover and felt his heart sink just a little. His stomach began to dance around as he felt like he dodged a bullet on that one.

 

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