Threshold of Danger (A Guardian Time Travel Novel Book 1) Page 18

  "I woke up in that hospital and I didn't know if either of you were alive."

  "Sam." How many adults would even stop and give an eleven-year-old the time of day? How many would call them heroes? How many adults would worry about people who'd grilled them on the events because they'd been as scared as their eleven-year-old counterpart should've been?

  She'd been beating herself up over it for an entire year. And it was his fault.

  "Elliot, listen—"

  He slung forward a fraction of a second, grabbed the board, and skated back over to her. Her gray eyes tracked the movement a regular person wouldn't even see. He completed a trick he hadn't done in years. Then rolled to a stop in front of her. Her mouth was parted. Her gaze glued to him, searching.

  And everything inside of him was right back in that warehouse. Terrified Sam would see the truth. Terrified she wouldn't. All of him praying she'd be okay. Far too open. "Turns out I've still got the moves."

  "You..." Her eyes narrowed. "Still have the moves? Is this another surprise revelation? Because I've had a ton of them today."

  "Oh?"

  "I discovered an interesting twist to Haley's assault two years ago. More than one actually. Jeff wasn't the first one on scene. I'm not even sure he was ever there. I want to call him out, but I need all the details before I do."

  Elliot put one foot on the floor. "What do you mean? Why would he lie about it?"

  Sam moved toward the laptop on the table. Hit a button and a grainy video started playing. He rolled toward her. Flipped up the board and leaned closer to the screen. Close enough to smell the light hint of perfume that was all Sam.

  A strand of her hair had moved into her eyes. "See that?"

  Crap. "What?"

  She shook her head. "Okay. Watch this time. I'll slow it down."

  Right. Watch. Focus. So much for that "not changing the rules" he'd been on board with earlier in the day. Right now he wanted to burn them.

  Which didn't make a lot of sense because when she figured out that she was interacting with a younger version of him, it could get awkward fast. His best bet was to keep that line firmly in place between himself and Sam.

  Hold on to it like a lifeline. Not become a dumb teenage boy with his first crush.

  "See? There." She paused the video. Pointed to the figure approaching a prone Haley. Surrounded by a large group of guys, the lower half of her body off screen. And then it hit him. What they were watching. Why his brain wouldn't concentrate on it at all.

  He stepped back.

  He wanted to slam the computer shut. "Where did you get this?"

  "It's the flash drive Haley had." Her eyes weren't on her sister. They were trained on the figure. Accessing the scene as if she could see something that wasn't pictured. Find men who were long gone. Right the one moment that had gone all wrong for Haley.

  He—if the height, build, and military haircut could be trusted—moved toward the group with a large shovel. Hit two of them directly over the head. Sent the other two running. Then he pulled his shirt from his torso and threw it over the part of Haley's body that was off camera. Picked her up. His mouth moved and then they were both gone from the frame, the video ending.

  Her finger hit the blank feed. "That's Theo Trenton."

  "What?" He stepped closer as if he could gain something from nothing. "How long have you been analyzing that?"

  "A few hours. Between reading over her notes." She picked up a piece of paper with descriptions on them. One had a name written above the description with the word deceased next to it.

  "Harper Valencourt? The guy that committed suicide after Claudia was found?"

  She nodded. "Haley detailed each attacker. I verified her findings. Added a few of my own."

  He took the list. Sam's handwriting was neater than Haley's and not as large. She'd listed possible suspects for each description, complete with times they'd entered either the bar itself or an eyewitness account. "And the details came from...?"

  "Most of it is Haley's research, part of it is a little legwork on my part. I called Simon and he gave me access to DMV records. To the assault report itself."

  Damn. She was always on par. Always going above and beyond. Fearless. Her criminal justice degree probably helped. "Why aren't you working in law enforcement?"

  The passion in her eyes died. "It's not for me." She moved away from the computer, around him, and into the kitchen. Busied herself with unwrapping a plate of cookies. Shoving them in his direction. "Eat those. Lucinda sends them home with me all the time as if I have a houseful of kids."

  He set the paper aside. "Sam."

  "If I eat them, I'll gain fifty pounds." She grabbed a sponge from the sink and began wiping the spotless counter. Attacked a slab of the granite with the porous material. She didn't make eye contact. "I think we should try to track down a few of those names, especially anyone related to Harper Valencourt. He confessed to Claudia's murder, but never mentioned Anne. Maybe he confided in someone."

  Maybe he hadn't done it. Maybe he'd killed someone—hadn't known who and just picked a name from the missing persons list. Wanted the event behind him and had cracked under pressure.

  Elliot leaned his elbows next to the plate of cookies. Didn't like the emotion rolling off of her in heavy waves. "You gonna answer the question or evade it?"

  She blew out a breath. "When you're married you make sacrifices."

  "Sacrifices?" What the...? "That sounds like you put an animal on an altar alive and burned it. You said you were married to Jeff for two years." He held up his fingers in a peace sign. "You didn't have any kids. Your major was criminal justice. Law enforcement seems like a no-brainer."

  "There's too much risk involved."

  No. He shook his head. "There's risk with riding a bike, driving a car, or flying in a plane. Heck, if you don't cut your steak small enough, you risk choking." He rounded the counter. "And I'd say working with Hope Alive has afforded you plenty of risk itself." He held his hands out. "Sorry. Not buying it."

  Her gray eyes hit his, her chin lifting. "I had the final call."

  The final call? Anger flashed upward. The Sam he knew would never go down without a fight. Not over something of this magnitude. "After how much coercion? How many arguments?"

  She didn't say anything.

  "Did you have a plan, Sam? An idea of what you wanted to do with that degree? How you planned to help people. Maybe you wanted to start with Fresno PD or Clovis PD. Get some experience, maybe move up to the state level. So what happened?"

  She shook her head.

  And he knew. Knew that Jeff Hastings had been completely selfish—probably for reasons that meant he wouldn't have to worry. Wouldn't have to share the spotlight. "Let me guess, you and Jeff got engaged and he convinced you to wait until after you were married. And then when you were married he convinced you the family couldn't have two people in law enforcement, because some day there would be kids and kids need a stable environment. Someone that doesn't go out with the risk of not coming home at the end of the day."

  It happened, but the ratio was low.

  "I love what I do."

  "I don't doubt that you do." It showed in the way she dealt with every situation, listened to every word spoken, and never gave up hope.

  Sam moved past him. Grabbed the plate of cookies and shoved it in his hands. "Just take those with you."

  No. This was not going down like this. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Yes. You are." Her face was flushed. She swallowed and looked away, an emotion he couldn't name passing over her face. "I'm done for the day."

  Everything inside of him sank. He set the tray at the edge of the counter still partially between them. Put a hand on her shoulder. "Sam, I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I—"

  She grabbed a cookie and shoved it in his mouth.

  He worked at not choking the whole thing down. Managed to break half of it off and chewed. An explosion of cinnamon and sugar burst to life in his mouth.
"You gotta try these. Lucinda must stay up all night making them."

  Sam froze. Her gaze hit the plate. Hit the rest of the cookie he chewed. The skateboard on the floor.

  She stepped back from him. "You came in here. You..." She pointed toward the board. Then the cookies. He grabbed another one and shoved it in his mouth. Was contemplating a third. Anything that kept her looking like there might be a mystery to solve instead of a funeral to attend.

  She shook her head. "That doesn't make sense. You can't... No. He's a kid. And you're an adult. And I..."

  Well, shoot. Of course she'd pick right now to put it all together.

  She moved toward him. Put her fingers in his hair, her touch light. Lifted it away from the scar he'd had since he was ten.

  "A skateboard trick gone wrong."

  Her breath caught. She stepped away from him. Her fingers steepled over her nose and mouth.

  "I didn't know before today." He dusted the crumbs from his fingers. "As soon as you said the name—my childhood nickname—I knew. I had to check it out."

  She lowered her hands. "You should have said something."

  "I was trying to, before you brought up all this stuff with Haley. And..." Jeff. "Does Jeff know about how you travel in time?"

  She scoffed. "You're kidding, right? He's as by-the-book as they come. That kind of thing would knock his compass off course."

  "That rule-following obviously took a vacation in relation to the night of Haley's assault."

  All emotion left her face. "How far back did you go?"

  "Fourteen years." He took a tentative step toward her. "To my childhood home. I haven't done that in forever. It's dangerous. My family has spent a lot of time protecting the secrecy of time travel. And when I was younger, protecting me from people who wanted to use what I could do."

  "Which is what?" One chestnut eyebrow arched. "Travel into the future and rescue clueless adults?"

  "Sleepwalking. Although I usually remember it."

  She crossed her arms over her chest, both hands finding the opposite bicep and squeezing. "You've actually had people try to harm you because of time travel?"

  "Yes." A few over the years. "You need to worry about you. The ability to see time travel is—"

  "Rare? Yeah, you told me."

  He'd probably told her a lot of things he didn't know yet. "The biggest threat is other travelers, Sam. Other people like you and me who aren't interested in a normal existence. People who want to use what they have to gain something. If they could see someone absorb or slingshot or sleepwalk, imagine what they could accomplish. Both good and bad.

  "There would be a way to know every single person who has the ability. A way to control an outcome to suit whatever the need is."

  "How so?"

  He held out his hand. "Let's experiment."

  She tilted her head to the side, caution warring with curiosity in her eyes. "That depends on the experiment."

  "Haley has been to my childhood home. Met my mom and my friends. Seen me in my element. And so has Anne. I'm going to absorb there. I want you to see it."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  THE CRASH OF waves drowned out the noise in Haley's skull. The water moved under the glow of the moon, the edges of the surf touching her bare feet.

  Touching the bottle she'd placed between them. Carrying it closer to her before taking it out again. A pattern that took it farther from where she sat. Took the half-peeled label and drudged it through the silty sand. Carried it to the next unwitting suspect.

  And if she waded into the ocean, right to the depths of where she could touch and let go, the water would carry her much the same.

  Your prints. Your gun. Your ammo. Your actions...

  Haley hadn't used her gun in months. Hadn't taken it out of its safe in the trunk of her car. She hadn't shot at her sister. Hadn't even known she'd been in trouble.

  That was the hard line of the no-strings world she'd built around herself. She didn't have to let the outside world in at all—that included the last person who hadn't given up on her.

  Haley stood. Walked farther into the cool water at the edge of Avila Beach, near the pier. Didn't care that her rolled pants—the last clean pair she had—were getting soaked.

  The sand was deserted save a few surfers catching their last waves of the day. The stars glimmered up above. She paused. Looked up.

  The beach...

  There were stars. There were waves. Her head had hurt like nothing she'd ever experienced. Not even after a night of binge drinking. But in that moment she'd thought it might split open. Spill her brains in the sand.

  Ricky's voice was clear—the worry evident—but the other speaker...

  He was annoyed. Angry. All tones she heard on a regular basis from various people. The Colonel. Sam. Even her mother when she'd been alive. Somehow this was different. As if he'd expected something different from her. As if his character didn't allow for whatever actions she'd put into motion.

  You're better than this.

  Theo. It was his voice. It had to be. She'd heard it so many times. As she tried—and failed for a large majority of years—to gain his trust. To get him to give up his story.

  But he was dead. Had been dead for six months at that point. Dead because...

  You got him killed.

  "Haley? Is that you?"

  The feminine voice made her stumble, the slight elongation of the vowels and a pitch stopping her short. As if the speaker had learned to talk under water. Like she couldn't hear herself clearly.

  Her breath caught. She turned. Encountered a young girl with blond hair. She wore a wet suit and carried a surfboard. She looked like the younger version of... Claudia.

  Everything inside her stopped. "Anne?"

  Anne's eyes scanned the area around them. "Is my—is there anyone with you?"

  "Should there be?" Haley said the words slowly, remembered from their interviews—before Ryan's implant—that the kid often read lips. Not that it mattered, because Anne probably couldn't even see her lips that well with the fading light.

  Haley hadn't had a lot of experience with the girl since that time. Since the entire Morris family had faded into the shadows. Since Ryan had come looking for them—Haley his last ditch effort to recover the kid that was his next big ticket. And then Claudia and Anne had gone missing and Ryan's good-ol'-boy act had disappeared.

  Anne shook her head. "I can't answer that." Then she started down the beach, the wind blowing her long hair behind her.

  Haley followed. Stumbled over a sandcastle. Managed to catch herself before she ate sand. "Wait. You have to come with me. Everyone is looking for you. Your family—"

  "It's not safe."

  "What? Why?"

  Anne stopped. Faced her. "Come on, Haley. You know why."

  A face popped up in her mind, shadowy and blurred. Pronounced forehead. Chiseled chin. Dark hair. The cigarette hanging from his mouth. The image faded.

  "We can make sure you're protected." They could. Simon would make sure of it. Sam. Elliot. "You won't have to worry about Ryan."

  There might not be help for Haley in that avenue, but Simon would make sure no one ever touched a kid. Doctor or not.

  "I'm not worried about Ryan." Anne threw the board down. Strapped a circular piece of Velcro to her ankle.

  She should be. "Whoever you're running from, then."

  Anne shook her head. "Anyone you involve, you also put in danger."

  "So, you're going to, what, hang out here forever? Miss out on life with your family. Your friends. What about your music?"

  "We make sacrifices in life, Haley. I am where I need to be. Out here I can sing as much as I'd like. I even manage to play piano once in a while. I'm safer if people think I've been placed in a shallow grave never to be found."

  The image of Claudia popped up in her mind. Blood on her face. The rope around her waist. The cinder block between her legs. "Was it all staged?"

  Anne rolled her eyes as if Haley we
re a moron, proving there was still something inside of her that was a teenager. "If you really need answers, look at the spot you left Theo. I gotta go." Then she ran into the water, her body easily fitting to the board, her arms slicing through the waves. Moving her into it.

  Beyond it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  HALEY HAS BEEN there. So has Anne.

  The words had been on repeat long after Elliot had left Sam's house. Long after he'd grilled her about Jeff, revealed that he was Ricky, produced an article Haley had written about Anne, and ate more cookies than anyone should in one sitting and half the pizza they'd ordered close to midnight. Long after he'd absorbed to his childhood home. After he'd proved she could see beyond the absorption. Into every aspect of the encounter.

  She could see Anne, Haley, his mother, all the kids he'd grown up with. Had walked around them without them seeming to notice her presence. Watched them on the massive skate ramp. Seen Haley talking to Elliot's mother. The defiance on her face. The pain. The truth.

  I'm pregnant.

  Ricky was Elliot and Elliot was Ricky. The older and younger version were similar in so many ways she couldn't believe she hadn't seen it sooner.

  Except where Ricky often had a teasing glint in his eye, Elliot had a little more seriousness—the kind acquired by life experience.

  Elliot had very little recollection of things Ricky would know about their interactions. They'd spent a good portion of last night hashing out those details—Sam recounting everything she remembered from every encounter. He'd left sometime after three in the morning. After they'd dug through the information she had. Come up with no other solid evidence that the man she knew was Theo Trenton on the tape was in fact Theo.

  It didn't change anything. He was still dead. But it had to mean something. What were the odds of him happening to be in the area the same night Haley was assaulted? And why hadn't Haley turned the evidence into the authorities?

  She'd been about to meet with someone who had information. To Sam's knowledge that had never occurred. And what were the odds of Harper Valencourt falling on the assault suspects list?