by Janet Leigh
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
“I’m calling McGregor to base and sending him back.” Jake’s grin disappeared, and he looked mortified at the decision to use Caiyan. Not only because I had told him of Caiyan’s strange behavior, but because when Caiyan went back things never went as planned.
“I’m going back with him.”
“No, you’re not,” Jake said.
“Why not?” I narrowed my eyes at Jake. “I have to go back and help Elma. If she gets hurt I might not be able to travel.”
“You’re too involved. Elma can't learn you exist. If she finds out she has a gifted bloodline, it will change her decisions from now until you get the key. It will change your life.”
“I don’t have to tell her I’m a relative, and besides, how do we know Mitch hasn’t already told her?”
“Jen, it’s too risky.”
“Fine, but I want to go on record that I don’t agree with your decision at all.” I huffed, crossed my arms over my chest, and gave Jake the stink eye.
“Jen, I need one more thing before you leave.”
“What!” I said a little too forcefully. I couldn’t help myself. Banning me from travel was unfair, and I didn’t appreciate Jake's lack of confidence in me. I had proven my abilities as a transporter, right? Well, there was the mix up in Berlin, and my inner voice reminded me about the little mishap in Hollywood.
He stood and took a step away from me.
“General Potts ordered me to take your key until this travel concludes.”
“Take my key?”
“Yes, for your own safety.”
I harrumphed. Jake held out his hand.
“You don’t trust me?” I said more than asked. I stood quickly, scraping the chair against the floor. My eyes shot daggers at him as we had a visual standoff.
“Jen, I know you. It will be difficult for you to let this go. I understand how much your family means to you, and I also know if McGregor is traveling, you will go too, regardless of my orders.” He sighed. “If you give me your key, you can go home and have the weekend off.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You will be grounded from the next two moon cycles with no pay, and you will have to stay on base—by force if necessary.”
If I stayed I would go mad, and I needed the money to buy my bridesmaid dress for my sister’s wedding. I took the key from around my neck and slammed it into his outstretched palm.
“How am I going to get home?”
“Ace is back. I’ll have him take you after he completes his debriefing.” He checked his watch. “Which I need to attend. Go say good-bye to Marco while you wait for Ace. He’s probably patched up by now. See if he remembers any new details to pass along to McGregor.”
* * *
I went to the infirmary and found Marco cleaned up and knocked out on pain medication. An IV dripped into his veins and a heart monitor blipped softly next to him. He was lying face down and had a big gauze pad taped to his ass. The nurse was pulling a blanket over him as I entered the room.
“How’s he doing?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“Girl, he’s doing good. He might have a dent in that fine behind, but he’ll recover nicely. He'll spend a day or two here, and then we’ll let you take him home.”
“That’s good news.”
“You might as well head out. The doc gave him a nice cocktail that will keep him sleeping like a baby until morning.”
“Okay if I stay a few minutes?” I asked her.
“Sure, honey.” She checked his vitals, then left the room.
I smoothed a few of the blond curls away from Marco’s temple. Maybe I wasn’t quite ready to commit to Caiyan after all. My inner voice tore my save-the-date in pieces and tossed it in the air. I bent down kissed him gently on the forehead and his mouth curled into a smile. I watched him sleep for a few minutes, then slipped silently out of the room.
Ace and Brodie met me at the door. “How’s he doing?” Ace asked.
“I heard he took one in the ass,” Brodie said and grimaced.
“He’s fine.” I closed the door behind me. “They have him bandaged and resting on pain medication.”
“I love those cocktails. Last time I got shot in the bum, I saw pink donkeys for two days. It was magical.” Brodie flashed his megawatt smile, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“The last time you got shot, I had to carry your heavy arse to safety. It bled all over my Vera Wang.”
Brodie’s smile went dull. “Laters,” he said and sauntered off down the hall.
“I’m supposed to take you home,” Ace said.
“I know. How was your travel?” I asked Ace as we walked toward the hangar.
“Good. The Crackys got so pissed at the pub, Brodie and I had to help ’em home.”
“You helped a brigand home?”
“All in a day’s work. Put ’em straight to bed.” He paused. “We might have drawn Captain Hook mustaches on them with a permanent marker.”
“You didn’t.”
Ace gave a sheepish grin.
“I’d like to stop by the travel lab before we go home. I want to see what Mitch is up to,” I said to Ace.
“You go on ahead doll, I need to gather me things from the locker. I’ll meet you in the hangar when you’re done.”
I smiled at Ace as he shimmied away in his heels and sparkling silver dress. Most of the travelers’ accents were muddled due to the ability to turn it off during time travel. Linguistics was a difficult thing to master, and Jake had me in online classes to learn certain dialects. Ace had the occasional word that made me feel like I was speaking to the chimney sweep from Mary Poppins.
* * *
Al greeted me at the door. “I was expecting you.”
“You were?”
“Your auntie is running loose with outlaws and a brigand. It’s only natural you would want to see for yourself.” He smiled his grandfatherly smile at me.
I entered the travel lab. Pickles gave me a head nod from behind his bank of computer screens as I passed. He wore a set of headphones and burrowed back down into his circular work area to monitor the remaining travelers.
* * *
The observation screen was lit up with blinking dots. There was still a lot of work to do. Al zoomed in to Texas and pointed to a blue dot. “We think this is your aunt. We’ve changed her from red to blue. I don’t know when your aunt officially received her key, but at seventeen, I doubt she has it permanently. We have records that your family ran moonshine to many of the establishments in Dallas and the surrounding areas during prohibition. It may be a normal trip for her, but somehow, she linked up with the younger Mafuso.”
“My aunt Elma can’t be shacking up with a Mafuso.” I wanted to believe she could tell Mitch was no good.
“Seems so. These four dots were together at a hotel immediately after the shooting Marco reported. My research has Bonnie and Clyde stayed at least one night here.” He clicked a button, and one of the red dots turned to black. “I can’t officially say this is Mitchell, but I think it might be.”
“Doesn’t she know who he is?” I raised my arms in question. “Doesn’t she care he is a Mafuso?”
“Jen, remember this is 1933. The elder Mafuso is traveling, but most of his travels are in Italy. I doubt your aunt knows about the Mafusos. He hasn’t come to America yet, or made his fortune.”
“He’s still pillaging ancient tombs in search of treasure,” I added.
Al nodded.
I swallowed hard. If Mitch wasn’t wearing a key, it was possible Elma didn’t know he was a brigand. Not good. Definitely not good. “Jake said there is another key?”
“Here,” Al pointed to the screen. “I’m getting a slight read on something, but if the key is worn by a NAT then it doesn’t show up on the screen.
“As far as Marco could tell, Elma’s only running the moonshine. Mitch is after the key Bonnie Parker wears. Marco told us Elma knows about the key as
well. We think Mitch is using your aunt to get close to the Barrow gang. She most likely doesn’t know he’s a traveler.”
I thanked Al, and he returned to his desk to follow up Brodie’s run-in with the Cracky Clan and give Pickles the support he needed to bring the travelers home safely and confirm our history books remained intact.
Chapter 15
I met Ace in the hallway walking toward the travel lab.
“Let’s go, hon, I ’ave a party to attend.” Ace grinned and gyrated. He would make his fancy party after all. Ace and I entered the landing hangar. I was hoping to see Caiyan before we left, but his vessel was not on the landing pad. A suit was stationed at the entry, and he motioned for us to stop.
“Word from Agent McCoy. We have incoming.”
The suits rarely spoke, and it always shocked me when one of them said anything to us. They were men of motion, grunting, and occasional facial expressions. I was assigned to one of them during my training, and he only spoke when correcting my technique. He smiled once when I was learning how to use a taser and accidentally fired it into another suit.
Swirling winds whistled around the room and settled with a loud bang. Caiyan's vessel appeared on the landing pad, and a stab of regret that Mitch now traveled in Caiyan's shiny red phone booth pierced my heart. I loved the phone booth. It made Caiyan seem like Superman. Now he traveled in a coffin. It was creepy. Superman had turned into Dracula in the blink of a key exchange.
Caiyan popped open the lid and stormed out of the coffin. The faint smell of a floral bouquet trailed behind him.
“What the hell?” He stomped over to where we were standing. “I was in the middle of a huge business deal.”
I grabbed his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Marco's been shot and my aunt's in trouble.”
Caiyan paused, searched my face, and found his answer. “He's all right then?”
“Yes, he's going to be fine, it was only a flesh wound.”
“What is this aboot yer aunt?”
Jake arrived as he asked the question and filled him in on the rest as we walked back to the conference room. “There's not much time to prep, but here's the information we have.” He handed Caiyan a file.
Caiyan sat down at the table to read it. I watched as he scanned the pages, taking in every word at a fast pace.
Ace mumbled something about visiting the facilities and his stilettos clicked against the tile as he left the room.
“We have records placing Bonnie and Clyde at the Stockyards Hotel in 1933, room 305. They might be holing up there. Mitch seems to be in the vicinity. Marco wasn't sure what role Elma Cloud is playing in this, but before he entered the Longhorn Saloon, he saw her outside the club wrapped up with Mitch.”
Caiyan blew out a long, slow breath. “She has to be after the key. The Elma Cloud I knew wouldnae be involved with a brigand.”
I felt a little better knowing my aunt had scruples. “Jake won't let me go back with you,” I said to Caiyan, hoping he might ask Jake to change the order.
“Not my orders,” Jake said, but his face held a look of relief.
“Jest as well.” Caiyan nodded, closing the file. “I’ve traveled to this area before, and I have a contact who could be helpful. If she’s still living there.”
A she contact? My radar began bleeping, and my desire to travel back to 1933 increased tenfold.
“Great,” Jake said. “Don’t forget, you are gaining a day when you go back. It’s Thursday, June 8th, not Friday.”
Caiyan nodded. Time travel was quirky—it dumped us out on the same date, but sometimes the day of the week was different, or the time change between countries affected our travel. The variables were exhausting.
“If Mitch violates the code or steals the key and you need to transport him back here, summon Ace,” Jake said to Caiyan.
“He's up to no good,” Ace agreed. “But I don't need to stay here, right?”
“Wrong. You will return here after you take Jennifer home.” Jake’s expression held firm.
Ace's face twisted into a mad scowl. “I did me duty. Why are you making me miss my party?”
Jake ignored Ace's whining and barked out the remaining orders.
“Jen, you're dismissed. You can go home.”
“McGregor, report to the travel lab for coordinates.”
I kicked some invisible dirt and Ace took the hint, following Jake out of the room to plead his case.
Caiyan pulled me into a hug. “I'll keep your aunt safe, I promise.”
“Who is this contact you know from the past?” I placed my hand against his chest, preventing him from getting close.
“Dinnae worry, the contact is not my type, and even if she was…I’m engaged to you.”
“Almost engaged.”
“Aye, almost.”
I ran my hand from his chest to the back of his neck and brought his lips to mine. He leaned down and scooped me up in a deep kiss with lots of tongue. My lady parts were beginning to tingle when his mouth did that quirky twist under my lips. I pulled back and searched his eyes.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“I'm the best I've ever been. I would be better if ye would give me an answer, so we can plan the wedding.”
Plan the wedding? I wanted to be engaged for at least a year, or five.
My inner voice started playing a brass rendition of “Oh Happy Days.”
I put a sock in her trumpet and bit my lower lip.
“Dinna fash, Sunshine. Ye know 'tis yer heart's desire.”
Hmmm. Was it?
He winked at me.
Jake stuck his head back in the door, squashing the moment. “Let's go, McGregor. I want to get you in and out. We've already wasted a day of travel time.”
I scowled at Jake and gave Caiyan another long kiss good-bye.
“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye,” he said, giving me an Eskimo kiss then leaving me standing alone in the conference room. Although he was acting weird, my heart still did a tap dance every time he ran his tongue over mine.
* * *
As I entered the landing area, I realized my outhouse was still waiting for me. I huffed. No need for my vessel to wait.
“I don't have my key, so I can't take you home.” As I spoke the words to my vessel there was a shift in the air, almost a sigh, as the outhouse shimmered into blackness.
Ace met me at the landing area. “Agent McCoy released me to go to my party.” He did a little happy dance then noticed my sad face. “Sorry about your key, hon.”
“I can't believe my aunt is in 1933 having sexy time with that rat bastard Mitch, and I can't do anything about it.”
Ace paused, then considered. “You know, Agent McCoy didn't order me not to take you to 1933.”
“He didn't?”
“No doll. He told me the only way I could stay off base was if I kept an eye on you, and wherever I went I was to take you with me. I'm sure Agent McCoy was referring to the ultimate party I'm attending tonight. If only I had the landing coordinates of that little weasel Mitch, we could take a little detour before the party.”
“I've got them,” I said.
Ace raised his eyebrows at me. “Hon, you've got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one where your mouth squinches up and is usually followed by both of us getting in trouble.”
“Ace, we've been returning later each travel, you might miss your party.”
“With any luck, the time continuum will show me mercy and I'll only be late.”
I laughed. “Fashionably late.”
“So true, girl, so true.”
* * *
We landed to the tune of “Life in the Fast Lane.” The song didn't make me feel any better about disobeying orders. Ace and I exited his vessel. We were in a small clump of trees separating the town from a slow-flowing creek. The scent of animal feces hung in the air.
I expected Ace to be over the top and he didn't disappoint. He sported a gray pinstri
ped suit, tie adorned with a diamond stickpin, fedora, and spats. Two hefty diamond rings decorated the fingers on his right hand.
“Wow,” I said, giving him the once-over.
“Girl, you know I'm a natty dresser. You don't look so bad yourself.”
I glanced down at my clothes. The emerald green dress had wide shoulders and hung below my knees with a swinging hemline. The slim-fitting waist was tied off with a matching fabric belt, and the V-shape of the neckline was interrupted by a swatch of opaque lace preventing sneak peeks at my cleavage. I couldn't see my hat, but I knew it was probably a small, round hat fashionable at the time. The shoes were magnificent—a pair of smart and sassy, green one-strap pumps.
“Oh, I love it, especially the shoes.” I twirled around, and Ace grinned at me.
“Let's go, Ginger Rogers. We need to follow the smell of crap and hope it leads to something better.”
A recent rain left the air humid and the ground a bit soggy. I avoided a few puddles and the road became solid the closer we came to the center of town. We passed pens filled with cattle on our way to the main street. Gertie and I had visited Fort Worth last year. We had attended our cousin's bachelorette party at one of Cowtown's famous bars. The stockyards in the 1930's weren't much different.
A large number of boarding houses, hotels, and mercantile businesses lined the street between the courthouse and the railroad depot, with offshoots for the lesser established. Prohibition had taken its toll, and a few places we passed had boards over the windows declaring the prior owner had vacated the premises. A sign posted read closed for violation of the National Prohibition Act by order of the United States District Court.
“Such a crime people lost their businesses because of prohibition,” Ace said as we walked.
“It wasn't the prohibition law that caused people to go under, it was the inability to adapt,” I explained. “Texas is the buckle of the Bible Belt. It stayed dry long after prohibition was repealed. My daddy told me his uncle Ruppert made a living smuggling moonshine and bootlegging liquor from Mexico. That is, until he got put in jail.”