Time Search

by Danele J Rotharmel

Shaking her head, Crystal bit her lip. “I don’t mind the dancing slur because it’s understandable considering the klutzy way I’ve been behaving, but…”

  “Go on. Tell me the worst.”

  “Marc said he had no desire to date me.” Crystal’s voice caught. “He s-said I was a z-zero in the looks department. He said I wasn’t alluring.” Another tear made its way down her cheek. “That hurt because I know it’s true. I’m not exactly pretty, and I wouldn’t know how to be alluring even if I tried.”

  Pushing at her owlish glasses, Crystal felt an angry spark entering her eyes. “I may not be alluring, but I sure wish for one night I could be. I wish I could make Marc eat his words. I wish I could knock the socks off him. I wish I could bowl him over so completely that he wouldn’t know whether he was coming or going.”

  Nicole laughed. “Well, why don’t you?”

  “Look at me.”

  “I am looking, and I don’t exactly see the problem. Stand up, Cris.”

  As Crystal stood, Nicole walked around her, studying her from every angle. “Do you need your glasses?”

  “Not really,” she said. “But wearing them is easier than remembering where I put them last.”

  “Take them off.”

  Crystal stuck them in her pocket.

  Nicole pulled the pencil, chopstick, pen, and rubber band from Crystal’s hair and let the blonde waves hang free. “You have beautiful hair. Why do you pin it up so unbecomingly?”

  “Speed, I suppose. I guess I don’t think about it much.”

  Nicole stared at Crystal’s baggy sweater. Grabbing a generous handful of material on each side of her waist, she laughed. “Crystal, honey, how would you like to not only knock the socks off of Marc but also make his eyeballs bulge and his tongue hang out in the process?”

  Crystal giggled. “I’d love it. Do you think it’s possible?”

  Putting her head to one side, Nicole giggled too. “It’s not only possible, but it’s going to happen. You and I are going to strike a blow that will make all the arrogant males in the universe run for cover. Now, what are you wearing tonight?”

  “A rather nice blue dress.”

  Nicole shook her head. “A rather nice blue dress won’t do it. We need a dress that’s so swanky that Marc won’t know what hit him. How do you feel about shopping?”

  “I love it.”

  “Me, too.” Nicole looked at her watch. “We’ll need to work fast, though. We only have a few hours to turn you into part goddess and part glamour girl. If we’re going to do this, you’ll have to put yourself completely in my hands. Are you willing to do that?”

  Crystal nodded grimly. “Not only willing—practically panting. If I can get even with Marc, I’ll be ready to do anything.”

  “Good,” Nicole said. “But before we go shopping, we’ll need to mentally set Marc up for his fall. A man’s imagination can be a woman’s greatest asset. I want you to go back to the room and not say a word. Don’t smile or frown at Marc. Don’t interact with him in any way. OK?”

  “Sure.”

  “Now, first of all, who is Jeff? Is he your boyfriend?”

  Crystal laughed. “No. He’s an old friend of my grandfather’s. We take dance lessons together once a week. He’s scads older than I am and bald as an egg, but he’s one of the dearest people I know. We would’ve had a great time tonight.”

  “Has Marc ever met him?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Now, I’ll come into the room in a few minutes, and when I do, follow my lead. And whatever you do—don’t laugh. Laughing would be fatal.”

  Crystal pulled her hair back into its bun and shoved on her glasses. “That won’t be a problem. I don’t feel very much like laughing.”

  “Honey, when I get started, you’ll feel like rolling but resist the temptation. Everything depends on a straight face. Can you do it?”

  Crystal nodded. “If it means settling the score, I won’t crack a grin.”

  13

  Keeping her head held high, Crystal opened the classroom door and went directly to her wall chart. As she started entering data, she said in a calm voice, “The file wasn’t on the sofa, Zeke.”

  “Sorry, Cris. After you left, I found it on my desk.”

  Nodding, she continued writing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marc staring at her in exasperation. She knew he was waiting for a thank you. Ignoring him, she continued entering data. Marc cleared his throat. His unspoken demand hung heavily in the air. He cleared his throat again. She kept her back turned.

  A few minutes later, Nicole entered the room in a whirl of pretty clothes and perfume.

  Zeke jumped to his feet with a smile. “Ready for lunch, babe?”

  Crystal saw Nicole giving him a surreptitious wink. She also saw Zeke’s barely perceptible nod. She knew that whatever Nicole did, Zeke was going to go along with it.

  “I’m sorry,” Nicole said. “But I have to cancel on you. The National Gallery called, and they need me to make some last-minute changes to my exhibit.”

  “Can I help you with the changes?” Zeke asked cautiously, obviously trying to figure out his part in her schemes.

  Nicole had her back to Marc, and she winked at Zeke again. “No. You’re the best of men, but what I really need is another woman’s eye.” Turning, Nicole said in a joyous voice as if she’d just hit upon the perfect plan, “Could you spare Cris?”

  Zeke’s cheek twitched. Crystal knew he was trying to suppress a smile. He’d obviously figured out what Nicole was up to, and he approved heartily.

  “I’d be happy to let her off early,” he said. “That is, if it’s all right with her.”

  Pushing at her glasses, Crystal said calmly, “I’d be glad to help you, Nicole.”

  Suddenly, Nicole bit her lip. “Oh, Cris, I’m sorry. I forgot that tonight you and Jeff are planning on dancing the night away. You won’t have time to help me and get ready for the dance too.” Nicole giggled and gushed in an ultra-feminine way. “Jeff is so incredibly handsome. If I wasn’t crazy about Zeke, I’d fight you for Jeff. He’s such a dreamy stud-muffin.”

  Marc turned slowly from his computer. Crystal saw him studying her. She forced herself not to blush or acknowledge his gaze.

  “Jeff can’t go,” Crystal said. “He has to work.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s a shame.” Nicole moaned. “Well, who are you going to call to replace him? Frank or Kevin? Frank’s better looking, but Kevin’s the better dancer. They’re both dancing on your string. Either one would jump and hop if you gave a call.”

  As she started to reply, Nicole suddenly gave a little squeal that made Crystal want to burst out laughing, but she knew that if she did, she’d be skinned alive later.

  “I have the perfect idea.” Nicole gushed. “You remember Brandon Fairbanks, my old boyfriend? He’s been dying to get a date with you. He keeps bugging me to put in a good word for him. He’s not good enough for you, but he looks like a dream in a tux.”

  Across the room, Crystal saw Marc blinking his eyes. He appeared thunderstruck at the idea that a male model could want to date her. Crystal felt like scratching his eyes out, but she valiantly controlled the impulse.

  Nicole continued, “If you’ll go out with him and get him off my back, I’d be grateful.”

  “Brandon’s not really my type, Nicole. I’ve sworn off male models.”

  “Who is it to be then? Frank or Kevin?”

  “Actually,” Crystal said, “Marc’s offered to take me.”

  Nicole paused. All of the animation drained from her face. She uttered one simple, little word. “Oh.”

  Crystal saw Marc blush. She didn’t blame him for being embarrassed—after all, Nicole’s tone conveyed her extreme misgiving as to his suitability as an escort. Marc’s blush deepened as Nicole looked him over from head to toe. He was wearing a casual pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and it was obvious that Nicole didn’t find his appearance pleasing.

  Smiling wanly, Nicole stepped cl
oser to Crystal and whispered in a soft voice that was calculated to barely reach Marc’s ears, “Does he know it’s a formal occasion?”

  Crystal barely kept herself from laughing.

  Zeke turned quickly to one side and became very occupied with shuffling papers.

  Standing to his feet, Marc said in a snippy voice, “I assure you that I do know it’s formal.”

  Nicole acted as if she were slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Marc. That was tactless of me. I didn’t mean for you to overhear.” She paused. “So you do know that it’s black tie…” She hesitated. “Black tie means you’ll need to wear a tuxedo.”

  Marc’s handsome face took on a bland, hard stare. “I know.”

  “Good…” Nicole hesitated again and looked him up and down. “If you need the address of an establishment that rents tuxedos, Zeke can—”

  “I can manage,” Marc said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, good,” Nicole said airily. Her face looked troubled. She smiled a bit weakly. Turning her back on Marc, she whispered to Crystal, “Does he know how to dance?”

  As Zeke underwent a coughing fit across the room, Crystal turned swiftly to gather her markers. “I don’t know,” she whispered, bending over.

  “You should find out,” Nicole whispered in a strong hiss. “Getting saddled with him is one thing, but if he can’t dance the whole night will be a total washout.”

  Crystal shot a quick glance at Marc. He’d obviously heard their whispers. His expression was priceless. Forcing herself not to laugh, Crystal grabbed a purple marker.

  Beside her, Nicole fidgeted with her earrings. She raised one elegant finger to her eyebrow and smoothed it. She tapped one expensively shod foot. The whole room was full of her energy. The whole room was brimming with the question that everyone was waiting for her to ask. The silence felt strained. Finally, she spoke. “Marc….” She hesitated visibly. “Do you…that is…can you—?”

  “I can dance,” he said baldly, almost rudely.

  “Oh. Good. Excellent…” Once again, Nicole’s face appeared troubled. She hesitated. She opened her mouth to speak.

  “I assure you,” Marc said, grinding his teeth, “I can dance.”

  “Oh…” Nicole murmured. “That’s…nice.” Her tone clearly conveyed her doubt as to his dancing ability.

  Grimacing at Crystal, Nicole turned her back slightly on Marc—but not so much that he could miss her raised brows and rolling eyes. Ostentatiously, she mouthed the words, We’ll see.

  Choking back a giggle, Crystal glanced at Marc. His face was incredibly red, and a muscle was twitching in his jaw. She felt a surge of victory. She’d never seen Marc looking so uncomfortable, and she positively relished it. As if feeling her gaze, he sat down at his desk with a thump and turned his back on her.

  Nicole gave Crystal a big wink.

  Crystal glanced at Zeke. He was looking at Marc’s stiff back with a grin of evil delight.

  “Well,” Nicole said in a resigned voice that was calculated to turn the knife in Marc’s wound. “One good thing about this mess is that if you don’t have to primp for Jeff, you’ll have time to help me at the gallery. We can swing by your place and pick up your dress, and after we finish making changes to the exhibition, we can drive to my house and help each other get ready. We won’t have much time, but that won’t matter much. It’s not as if you’re getting dressed for anyone special…I mean…that is to say…” Nicole let her voice trail away in feigned confusion.

  Giving a strangled cough, Zeke bent his head swiftly over his files.

  “That sounds like a good plan,” Crystal said, picking up her purse. As she and Nicole headed toward the door, she called out, “Will it be all right with you, Marc, if you pick me up at Nicole’s at 6:30 PM?”

  Marc didn’t turn around. Waving a hand at her, he mumbled, “Fine.”

  Nicole hesitated. With her fingers on the doorknob, she said in a voice that sounded as if it’d been pulled from her unwillingly, “Don’t forget, Marc…black tie. Zeke can help you, if—”

  Marc swung around. His brows were lowering. “I can handle it.”

  Nicole smiled. “I’m sure that you can. After all, Zeke’s right here if you need some advice.”

  Crystal walked out the door with Nicole. As it started to shut behind them, Nicole groaned loudly. “What a pity you’re going with him. But I suppose he needs a bone tossed his way occasionally. I just hope he doesn’t embarrass you.”

  Glancing back, Crystal saw a pencil snapping between Marc’s fingers.

  ~*~

  Drake paced back and forth. Pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket, he scanned the list of his primary targets: Dan, Gil, Jay, Peter, Laura, Phoebe.

  He closed his eyes to concentrate.

  Only that stupid nurse knows where Phoebe is, so Phoebe is a dead-end. I need to change my focus. The Ableman’s have a security system that has me baffled. Since I can’t break into their home and hunt for clues, I need to find them some other way.

  He rubbed his temples.

  When I came back from my field exam, I went to the hospital and caught a glimpse of TEMCO’s leaders in a crowded elevator. Whoever they were with will know where they’ve gone.

  He tried to form a clear picture of the elevator in his mind.

  Gil was in a wheelchair. Dan was next to her holding the baby. Next to Dan was Laura…

  Remembering Laura’s kick to his chest, Drake’s jaw tightened. “I’m going to make her pay for that,” he growled.

  Clenching his hands into fists, he tried to focus.

  Peter was in a wheelchair by Laura’s side, and next to Peter was…

  “Zeke.” Drake’s lips curled into a grin.

  ~*~

  Phoebe strolled into Alex’s study and sat on the arm of his chair. “Whatcha doing?”

  He smiled. “I’m going through my mail, kitten. It piled up while I was with you at the hospital.”

  Kissing the top of his head, Phoebe rose and wandered around the room. She paused in front of a painting. She couldn’t tell what it was supposed to represent.

  Is it a blue elephant balancing a purple fish on a stick? Squinting, she cocked her head to one side. Maybe it’s a blue squid being hit in the face by a purple pinecone.

  Cocking her head to the other side, she stepped closer—peering intently.

  Alex chuckled. “Don’t bother trying to figure it out.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s the canvas that launched a family joke.” Alex swiveled in his chair. His eyes were twinkling. “My dad’s a pastor, and a few years ago, I was helping him paint some alphabet blocks for a rummage sale. I was using an awful brush that kept clogging with paint, so I used an old canvas to clean my brush between blocks. My brother and his wife flew in later that day, and they saw the canvas in Dad’s garage.”

  Alex laughed. “Dad has a wicked sense of humor, and he told them that I’d taken up painting. He said the canvas was my first piece of artwork and that I was extremely proud of it. My brother’s always been supportive, so when I came back from hauling things to the sale, he complimented my composition and asked me to paint him a picture for his birthday.”

  Phoebe’s lips twitched as he continued, “I couldn’t paint if my life depended on it, but since then, I’ve been sending terrible paintings to my brother and his wife at regular intervals. They hang them in their house for fear of hurting my feelings. Mom and Dad are in stitches. We have a bet on how long it’ll take for the joke to be discovered.”

  ~*~

  Keeping a firm grip on Crystal’s arm, Nicole hissed in her ear, “Don’t you dare laugh. Not until we get outside. You’ll ruin everything if you do. Choke it back, I say.”

  Nodding, Crystal clamped her hands over her mouth. Her face had turned purple by the time they’d reached the outside air. Crumpling to the grass, she let her laughter roll.

  Standing beside her, Nicole chuckled lightly. “It was a good performance, if I
do say so.”

  Crystal wiped her streaming eyes. “Oh, Nicole”—she giggled—“it was masterful. Did you see how red Marc’s face turned? I thought he was going to have a stroke. You had me in stitches. I thought I’d die if I had to suppress one more giggle.”

  “Feel like you’ve gotten a little bit of your own back?”

  Crystal nodded.

  “Want to get some more?”

  Crystal nodded again. Her eyes sparked. “What’s next?”

  “Next we go shopping.”

  ~*~

  Angelina picked up a picture of herself dancing with a leprechaun. Smiling, she glued it in her scrapbook. Before her entourage left Dublin for Rome, Karl had hired their concierge to put on a leprechaun costume and waltz around the hotel lobby with her. It was the final photo needed to complete her Ireland tasks.

  With a smile playing on her lips, Angelina bent her head and wrote comments in the margin of her scrapbook. She stretched and sighed. She’d really enjoyed Ireland, and she was already enjoying Italy. Her first Roman concert had been unforgettable.

  As part of an official cultural program of Estate Romana, musicians from around the world were invited to hold concerts at Teatro di Marcello, one of the most beautiful historic attractions of the city. Inaugurated in 12 BC by Augustus, multitudes of musicians had performed in the theater, and following in their footsteps had been a thrill she’d never forget. The ancient architecture aroused in her an artistic fervor that she knew had been translated into her music.

  Grinning, she studied Alex’s dog-eared list, reading the six tasks he wanted her to accomplish in Rome: toss a coin in Trevi Fountain, put a hand in La Bocca della Verità, eat a Macedonia gelato, visit the Capuchin Crypt, high-five a gladiator, and ride a scooter.

  Chuckling, she called Karl’s room. When he answered, she asked, “Do you know what a Macedonia gelato is?”

  Karl laughed. “No. But I bet I will by this time tomorrow. Getting ready to tackle the list?”

  “I sure am. Do you have any idea where the Capuchin Crypt is? It’s not in some creepy catacomb, is it? And do I need a special license to drive a scooter?”

  14