Threshold of Danger (A Guardian Time Travel Novel Book 1) Read online

  Tell her... What? What was she supposed to say to Sam that wouldn't make everything worse?

  I'm broken. There's no fixing it. I'm going to keep repeating the same mistakes. I won't mean to, but...

  "Not gonna chicken out on me, are you? Take off?"

  Haley pulled out a chair. Sat. Even as everything in her mind screamed about doing exactly that. Leaving was like admitting guilt. If she stayed, she risked exposure. "Nope. You've sort of ensured that I can't."

  Ricky shrugged. "Your call." Then he headed for the ramp with his friends.

  Haley closed her eyes against a sudden wave of nausea. She could drink the tea. Play nice and then excuse herself. She had a job she needed to get to. A life she needed to figure out.

  A bottle of scotch...

  The roll of the sliding glass door hit her ears. Her eyes snapped open. A tray appeared in front of her, Vi quickly dispensing juice boxes to the boys. Two sweating glasses remained when Vi sat down across from her.

  "Tell me how you know my son."

  A beach and a lot of alcohol slammed into her brain. A mistake she couldn't fix compounded by more mistakes, the once-cloudy face of a woman now clear—Jane Doe's face—her blond hair and brown eyes. The rest of the memory was still hazy. Just the sort of thing Haley should use to get out of here.

  I had the story of a lifetime, but I did something horrible...

  "Seems like you might already have those answers."

  "Maybe." Vi scooted a glass of tea, filled to the brim with ice toward Haley.

  Haley accepted the cup. She took a small sip, the fluid cool on her tongue. Prayed her stomach wouldn't rebel. "Ricky says you're a cop."

  "For a little while longer. Is that a problem?"

  Yes. Yes it was. It made her itchy all over. Made her want to hightail it for cover. Find a weapon.

  You say you were pushed to the ground by four men?

  The two cops questioning her—both female—had exchanged a glance, their tone one of disbelief. As if the bruises on her body weren't proof enough. As if she'd solicited the advances of complete strangers simply because she'd been in a bar. As if she were one of those women that cried rape after waking up from a night of binge drinking and sex because she couldn't deal with the choices she'd made.

  Haley took a breath. Exhaled the memory. "For a little while longer? What did you do? Get canned for something illegal?"

  Vi didn't even flinch. "How's the tough act working for you?"

  "There's no act."

  Vi nodded as if she understood everything. "We run a group home for boys. I work around all these kids—some from pretty tragic backgrounds. Sometimes they get here and they're so angry and they hate everything, including themselves. And trust. Trust is a mountain they have to climb. One that someone else—someone who was supposed to protect and love them—threw them on and walked away."

  Haley had thrown herself on her own mountain. She wasn't stupid enough to think otherwise. At sixteen she'd been able to use that lie well on herself—blame her deceased mother for leaving her with more secrets than she could keep, the Colonel for his frequent absences, her sister for her absolute perfection—but not at twenty-nine. Not even drunk. Or high. Or half dead.

  That was when it was most clear. She'd gotten here all by herself. One wrong choice pushing her higher into the clouds, until she stood at the peak. There were only two options. Jump. Or fight her way across rough terrain back down.

  She wanted to do the latter. It was the sound choice, but jumping had an appeal. Always had. Adrenaline. Risk. The story of a lifetime.

  "So what's your mountain, Haley?"

  Everything inside of her tightened. "What are you? A shrink?"

  "No." Vi gathered her hair into a ponytail. "I actually don't like people that much."

  A scoff shot out of Haley's mouth before she could temper it. "Then why serve tea and share stories? Why not show me to the door and be done with it."

  "I don't like people that much. Especially people who show up with my eleven-year-old son unannounced. If I have to spend time with them, I prefer kids. Kids prefer me. I've got some adults who've managed to look past the rough edges. That's my mountain. People are my job, so I do my best to understand them. To make sense of the chaos. Sort of funny how life works."

  Yeah, funny. That was the word Haley would use. More like life was one big joke without a punch line.

  "You and your husband run this place?" She scanned the boys. The way they all had smiles on their faces. Two of them were drinking from the water hose despite the juice boxes, while the other four—Ricky included—lined up on the other side of the ramp. There was a taller kid—a teenager likely—on the other side of the yard, his gaze monitoring the ramp progress, a serious expression on his dark face.

  "We do."

  "I saw a photo of him on the way out. I'd do him." The words left her lips in the practiced way she dispensed everything.

  Vi didn't say anything, didn't appear upset. Didn't even move—almost as if Haley had said nothing at all.

  It deflated everything inside her. Made her cringe. Made her wish she had the guts to walk back down the mountain versus soaring higher into nothing.

  She took another sip of the tea. It got stuck halfway down. She cleared her throat. Worked hard not to vomit the nothing in her stomach. "I'm—I... It's habit."

  "I know." There wasn't a hint of anger in the words. Vi turned toward her. "It starts out hard—pushing people away. Then after a while you don't even know you're doing it. Everything just feels wrong and the only thing that fixes it for a minute is ugly words and actions. And the more you do it, the easier it gets and suddenly everything you do is a rush. But one person caring." She snapped her fingers. "It could all crumble. That vulnerability is frightening."

  Her sister came to mind. Elliot. The way both of them had stepped between her and Ryan. The way they would've taken a bullet for her. The way her sister had told her she was the worst person on the planet for not caring about herself, but had managed to offer her couch in a last ditch effort to save something that was dead.

  It was dead.

  Why didn't Sam get that? It couldn't be fixed. There was nothing to fix. Nothing Haley wouldn't screw up again in a very short amount of time.

  "Your husband's got a doppelganger back in Cali."

  "Yeah?"

  "I've ended up on his couch a few times. Not that I remember making a conscious decision to invade his space." At least drunk, she knew the source of the problem. Sober... "I—I'm not sure why he puts up with it."

  Vi monitored the progress of the children on the ramp, the silence thick.

  Haley pressed her lips together. Tried not to focus on the times when she'd been able to extract information in the exact manner Vi used instead of it flying from her own mouth.

  "Honesty isn't so hard, is it?"

  It was terrifying. "The information is nothing to applaud. It's not even very interesting." Not amidst all the other secrets and truths she harbored.

  Vi shook her head. "Depends on the perspective. If you're sleeping on his couch in hopes of something romantic—"

  "No." She'd slept in a lot of interesting places. In the desert sand, living rooms filled with the aftermath of a party, and random men's houses. She'd never once woken up with the knowledge that she'd been safe with her eyes closed. Never not known how she'd gotten wherever she was. "I'm pregnant."

  Vi's eyes hit hers, all her attention zeroed in on her now.

  "That's why... That's why I'm not drinking, even though I'd kill for the blissful feeling of nothing. I..." She sipped the tea. Waited for the moment Vi got gushy about what a beautiful thing growing another life was. Or how noble her intentions were.

  They weren't. She wanted a drink so bad she could taste it. And the first day she'd quit, she thought she was going to die. The detox had been so bad she'd actually gone to the ER. Gotten an IV. Contemplated a myriad of solutions to the life growing inside of her.

 
Just so she could go back to living however she wanted. Doing whatever she wanted. Being that woman nobody missed. The one she didn't even miss.

  The ER nurses had been kind. Hadn't pointed out the fact that they knew she wasn't dehydrated from not drinking enough water, but from the alcohol leaving her system. One nurse had sat with her. Offered crackers. An extra blanket. Had even brought in a fetal doppler and let her hear her baby's heartbeat.

  A heartbeat.

  "That's a life changer."

  "Try universe changer. I'm twenty-nine, not married—not even close to a serious relationship." Nobody wanted the girl who chased stories, who entered dangerous situations willingly, who tackled subjects best left alone. "I have no idea who the other half of the DNA belongs to—I bounce from job to job and—"

  "Bar to bar?"

  "Yeah..." It sounded horrible, but shame wasn't what sat in her chest. There was something else. "How do you do that? How did you know all that stuff about me? My family."

  "It's a gift." Vi smiled. "And a curse. What are you going to do?"

  Day one she'd set up an appointment for an abortion. Then she'd canceled it because she'd been so sick. Day two she'd made a list of possible fathers. Day three she'd destroyed the list, because it was utterly useless to try and sift through the hoard of one-night stands. Day four she'd done something she'd never done before.

  Slung herself forward to see... Darkness.

  "Haley?" Vi regarded her with patience.

  "Eat healthy and complain about weird cravings and back pain? The frequent need to urinate? Contemplate pushing a watermelon out of a garden hose."

  "A good start." Vi sipped her tea. "Try not to think about the watermelon part. There's plenty of time for that lat—"

  A girl wandered right in front of them, her long blond hair cascading down her back. She held something circular in her hands, her fingers moving over the metal. Spinning it over and over. She turned toward them, her brown gaze scanning them as if they didn't exist.

  Youth was evident in the lack of lines on her face, the way her body hadn't yet developed. She couldn't be more than twelve. She—

  Haley stood. Everything inside her stopped. "Anne?"

  The girl didn't respond to the name. Vi's hand found Haley's wrist. "Don't touch. She's sleepwalking."

  "S-sleepwalking? You know...?"

  One blond eyebrow moved upward. "Come on, Haley. You don't think I'm unaware of what my son can do, do you?"

  Why not? The Colonel had no idea what either of his daughters could do.

  "That I would be even remotely okay with your presence otherwise?"

  She didn't know. Didn't—

  "The future is like a calm lake. Touch your toe in and the peace is shattered. Your presence is a ripple that echoes. Remember that."

  There wasn't a lake for her to disturb. For—

  "To her we are a stationary scene in her mind." Vi's gaze was back on Anne.

  The tingling of a story hummed up around Haley. Made her hands itch. Urged her to dig deep into why Anne was here. Why Vi was even talking to Haley. Why...

  "And..." Vi's voice brought Haley's surroundings back into focus. "If we disrupt whatever process she's working toward, then she might never get to where she should be."

  "People have been looking for her." Haley's heart kicked up. Forget the story. This was bad. It was good. It was scary.

  If Ryan found out...

  If he had her research...

  If she'd actually done something unspeakable...

  "You're telling me I can't interact with her? Can't..." What was she saying? She couldn't interact with her. Haley sat down. Hard. She needed to get out of here. Get back home. Pack up. Disappear until she could figure this thing out.

  "I'm recommending you don't." Vi's gaze would've leveled her if she hadn't already sunk back to her chair. "There's a difference."

  "Because you know something I don't? She's been missing for months. Her family is worried about her. If you know something, you need to—"

  "Enough." Vi's hand hit the table. "I don't know any more than you do. What I do know is that this isn't your first visit to my home."

  What? No. That wasn't right. "What do you mean?"

  "Touch that girl and it will be your last."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Present Day

  I'M GOING TO need to talk to her at some point.

  He would. They all would need to gather statements from both Sam and Elliot. Simon hadn't been ready to think about dealing with either Billings' sister. Sam—for obvious reasons that meant he might need to pull his lead investigator.

  And Haley...

  The evidence bag holding the medallion burnt a hole in his pocket. Dredged up fragmented memories best left forgotten.

  The medallion was a coincidence. Nothing more.

  Right now he had bigger problems than Jeff going Hulk over Sam's involvement, which was already happening ten feet from where Simon stood with Elliot outside the crime scene perimeter. Elliot had arrived ten minutes after Sam—in time to witness Jeff ask Sam for a private word. To see Sam reluctantly follow Jeff.

  Elliot hadn't said a word. Had tracked their movements, a thick emotion swirling in the air.

  It probably didn't help that Sam's posture—stiff back and crossed arms—communicated her unwillingness to venture farther down the path toward the public beach. That her face was carefully blank, her lips in a firm line, a leave me alone vibe circulating in the air around them. And Elliot had always been the protective sort, even as a kid.

  "You said the two of you were out here on an op?"

  "Uh-huh." Elliot cross his arms over his chest. "We went over this. Following up on a lead. One of the campers saw Anne Morris. The family hired Hope Alive."

  There was something off about it all. "Walk me through it again."

  Simon had asked Sam for the details before Elliot had arrived. Had gotten very little in the way of answers, her annoyance as clear as Elliot's currently was.

  "There was a family of five down at the beach. It was early. Sam was out here alone until I showed up. I'm not sure what else she saw prior to that."

  "Nothing out of the norm from what she told me." Which wasn't like her. She was usually ten steps ahead of everyone, even Jeff, often helping them in a way that should've landed her on the payroll already.

  She had the degree. The knowledge. The intuition. Simon had often wondered how Hope Alive had taken precedence over a law enforcement career.

  "So, you're out here talking. Why right here? I would assume that if you were looking for the family that saw Anne Morris you'd be at the campsites or the beach."

  Elliot worked his jaw. "Didn't get that far."

  "How'd you lose the shooter?"

  Riggs and Mulvaney had joined Sam and Jeff. Sam listened to whatever Riggs was saying. His crew hadn't asked the question. But they would. As would Chief Lewis.

  "Some careful maneuvering." Elliot shifted. "You've worked cases with Hope Alive for, what, three or four years?"

  Simon had actually contributed to its start-up costs anonymously, although it obviously hadn't stayed that way. There had only been a few instances where he'd gotten to see the foundation in action firsthand. Anne's case was one he hoped he got to see a positive outcome with. "Something like that."

  "You're pretty well acquainted with Sam and Colonel Billings."

  "You know I am. So are you." He'd brought Elliot to Hope Alive's offices the moment his friend had gotten settled in town. Elliot had already known the Colonel, then met Sam and Lucinda. "You volunteered on the spot. What's the point of this?"

  "He's a quiet guy. Commands attention. Doesn't dish out praise easily, but you can bet he'd drag your butt out of trouble if he had to."

  Simon had witnessed that in Iraq. On one of the two tours he'd done there.

  Elliot stepped closer. "He ever ask you to check up on either Sam or Haley?"

  Simon didn't move. Worked hard not to revisit the p
ublic intox incident. He'd tried to give her a single cell, but he might as well as offered to skin her alive based on her very angry reaction. Angry and something else.

  Tell the Colonel I don't need his help.

  There had been more—language that was colorful at best. He'd never gotten to tell her the courtesy had nothing to do with the Colonel. "I fail to see why this even matters."

  "Has he ever called in a favor?"

  Irritation hummed up his spine. "You do know the definition of the word favor, right? I try not to end up indebted."

  "Today is the anniversary of their mother's death. I get the feeling Haley doesn't handle it well."

  "That would imply that she actually handled anything." Which he'd never seen happen.

  "There was already a guy harassing her at the hospital this morning."

  "Harassment she likely brought on herself." But even as he said the words, that scene from long ago popped up in his mind. Haley's obvious lack of a sense of danger. The gun the man could've easily used. Simon's very urgent need to step in and make it all right. The desire to save people from risky circumstances didn't go away simply because a person made bad choices.

  "Any way you could do me a solid and track down Haley?"

  "Oh, no. No. No." He might be protective, but he wasn't crazy. Haley Billings was a walking mess he did not have time for. Her mess, the anxiety that was palpable, the way she dealt with those things. Or didn't. "Do I look like I have a death wish? You keep that disaster to yourself, Knight."

  One of Elliot's brows arched upward. "You look like you've taken an oath to serve and protect. And right now you'd be protecting the unsuspecting citizens of Fresno if you knew Haley Billings' location."

  "On whose intel? Yours?" He couldn't chase after Haley. He didn't have the resources. Or the mental capacity for the baggage she drug with her like ill-fitting armor. "You know she'll eat any one of my patrolmen alive. Fresno might be big in terms of people, but this area still has a small-town mentality. And Haley—"

  "That's why I'm asking you to go." Elliot lowered his voice. "I think she might be in some kind of trouble. She asked for a large sum of money, she's currently homeless from the sounds of it, and she asked me to watch out for Sam."