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

  Involuntarily, she yawned so hard her eyes teared up. She moved into Hope Alive's waiting room at a wearied pace. It would take an IV of caffeine to make it through the day. She settled on a cup of tea and popped the K-cup into the Kurig.

  The whoosh of the front door hit her ears, followed by a chime. She finished adding honey to her tea.

  "Haley?" Shock lined Lucinda's voice. "What are you doing here?"

  Sam turned. Watched her sister move into the waiting area, right past Sam, her gaze glued to the hallway that lead to the offices. She had a large pair of sunglasses on her face, her hair looked wet from a shower, and she wore the leather jacket again, which now made sense. It was zipped to her clavicle. She had a duffel bag on her shoulder.

  "Working." She didn't lift her sunglasses. "Is Sam here?"

  "Haley?" Sam grabbed her cup. Moved toward her sister. "I didn't think you'd show."

  "Neither did I."

  Truthfully, Sam had sort of forgotten about it. "You said—"

  "I'm here." She sipped from a disposable cup in her hands. "Put me to work."

  "Okay." Sam kept her gaze on her sister's face even though she was dying to see if there were any signs of pregnancy. If she knew that Sam was aware, would she open up about it or retreat into the shell she'd become? "I wanted to talk to you any—"

  "Hey." The door dinged again as Jeff moved through it. Haley turned, her body going ramrod straight. The stillness blasted through Sam. She froze as well.

  His gaze hit Sam. "Can we talk?"

  No. The only talk they were going to have was the one where she forced him to admit his heroic save of Haley was the biggest lie he'd ever told. Maybe right next to his promise of death do us part. A slew of other information he'd fed her over the years. "I'm busy."

  "This is important." His gaze hit Haley. Then he tossed something toward her. "You dropped that outside."

  Haley caught it and opened her palm to a Jim Beam shooter. Her sunglasses still hid her eyes, her mouth forming a straight line.

  An image of her last night inside Sam's home popped into her mind. The way she'd avoided the glass of wine. Had refused to sit down until Sam disposed of it.

  She grabbed the plastic bottle from her sister's hand. "Get that out of here." She threw it back at Jeff. He dodged the projectile aimed for his head.

  Jeff's brows slammed together. "What is the matter with you?"

  Annoyance tore through Sam. She wanted to deck her ex-husband in a way he'd never forget. He, of all people, should know the complete battle Haley had with alcohol. Sam had stressed about it nonstop during their marriage.

  In the beginning he'd listened. Offered advice on how they could help Haley. But after a year of watching her sister slowly deteriorate over her own choices, he'd had nothing to say. Nothing except the idea of Sam cutting her losses. Saying good riddance.

  Haley moved to the shooter, picked it up, and dropped it in the trash. "Not sure where you got that, but it's not mine. I'd need a heck of a lot more than one shot, Jeff."

  "To cure the hangover?" He pointed to her glasses. "That why you haven't removed those yet? Light too bright for you?"

  Haley folded her arms across her chest, her hands fisted. "Why are you here?"

  His gaze moved toward Sam. "I'm checking on your sister. Actually being a decent human being."

  The silent unlike you reverberated in the space.

  "She's fine." Haley took a step toward him.

  And once upon a time Sam would've played mediator. Tried to smooth the waters of two people who used to be friends, but no longer were.

  That wasn't her job anymore. She didn't need to separate the ever-drunk and angry Haley from a closed-minded and nonempathetic Jeff. Sam no longer needed to create a bridge where one day her sister, who saw the world in every color—right, wrong, and the journey to those places—and her husband, who saw it in black and white, might come together. At least for her sake.

  That world had been a straight-laced fairytale where a fairy godmother had gone overboard promising that one day her dreams—every single one—would come true.

  "She doesn't need you." Haley jabbed her finger at Jeff. "She didn't when you were married to her and she doesn't now. Know why?"

  Sam moved forward. Maybe...

  "I think you're too drunk, or high, or hungover to know what you're even saying. I think you've dug a hole you can't even begin to get out of and you're grasping for a way out. I'm making sure that way out doesn't take your sister down in the process."

  Haley didn't move. "I think you're a sniveling suck-up who rides on the coattails of other people's success or lack thereof. And I think you picked up that alcohol from the liquor store around the corner and followed me in here with an attempt to provoke me. With the hope that you could prove to Sam what a waste of space I am." She leaned closer, her voice a whisper when she said, "News flash, idiot, she already knows."

  Then she turned and headed toward where Sam's office was located.

  "I don't want to see Sam get killed because of your mistakes."

  Haley stopped, but didn't turn around. "The only reason you're here is because you heard Captain Riley needed to check in on an issue. When the issue pertained to me, you saw an opportunity to have a moment with Sam. A moment she obviously hasn't given you so far." Haley started forward again. "Don't worry about filling in Captain Riley on my whereabouts. I took the liberty of letting him know I arrived this morning, which I'm sure he will confirm with Lucinda and Sam."

  Haley moved further down the hallway and into one of the offices.

  "You need to be careful, Sam." Jeff put a hand on her shoulder.

  She wanted to move far from his touch, but she held still. "Did you get the shooter around the corner?"

  "No. I saw it fall out of her jacket."

  A ball of uncertainty sat in her gut. Sam nodded, but didn't believe the words. Not after last night. Not ever again.

  "Watch out for her, she's not in a good place."

  She shrugged his hand from her. "Kind of like when you found her outside that bar. How did that go down again?"

  He shook his head, an emotion flicking to life in his eyes. "Sam."

  "Did you find her out there in the middle of a gang rape and just walk back inside? Figure another beer would take the edge off?"

  Horror crossed his features. "No."

  "When the cops were questioning her, did you offer any statement? Any details on the men who drug her outside with vile intentions?"

  He hadn't said one word, nothing beyond the two sentences where he claimed to call 9-1-1. She had the report to prove it. Maybe because he'd seen Haley for the sinking ship she was becoming and didn't want his name attached. Maybe something else.

  Black and white.

  No in-between.

  She didn't expect him to give a straight answer, because that didn't fit in his neat world.

  "I saw the film on it, Jeff."

  Shock blasted across his face. "Film?"

  "You weren't in the vicinity. Not unless you were one of those faceless people beating up on a defenseless woman."

  "No."

  "What was it you said? You found Haley. You called 9-1-1. You stayed with her until help arrived."

  He crossed his arms over his chest. Stood a little taller. "I called for backup. And I stayed with her in the ambulance."

  "But you never found her. Someone else did."

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I fail to see how this is suddenly an issue."

  Because Sam had cried on his shoulder. She'd leaned on him for comfort—a rare occurrence—so she could be strong for Haley who hadn't wanted Sam there at all. "There's only one reason you wouldn't mention another player."

  He didn't move. Didn't offer denial.

  He'd known Haley was chasing Theo Trenton. He'd known to be on the lookout for the man. For anyone who was talking about him. Jeff hadn't called 9-1-1 for Haley. He hadn't called 9-1-1 at all. He'd called someone else. To let th
em know he'd found Theo.

  "Theo gave you the slip just like he did with everyone else. You risked looking like a fool, so you hopped in the ambulance in an effort to save face, because in your black-and-white world, catching Theo was far more worthy than saving a friend and you felt guilty."

  He swallowed. "I didn't mention Theo because Haley needed to recover. Not go out and chase a ghost."

  The hot boil of angry lava shot through her system so fast, she wanted to clobber him over the head. She didn't move.

  He gave an audible swallow, worry evident in his eyes. "It was a poor choice. One I regret."

  Oh, he was going to regret it. "Don't come back here unless you've got a search warrant or information that's related to my cases. Got it?"

  "Sam. Come on. You can't take anything she does or says seriously. One good day doesn't mean anything. And one omitted event isn't the ultimate issue."

  But it was. "Step foot on my property or within fifty feet of my sister and I will call the cops."

  ____

  Anyone you involve, you also put in danger.

  Haley sat in Sam's office in a chair facing the large picture window. Tried to drown out the chattering in her brain. The constant pound at her temples and the swirl in her stomach.

  A fountain sat in the small shopping strip where Hope Alive was nestled. A few pedestrians wandered the shops. One mom and daughter had lattes at a table across the way.

  She glanced at the sketch she'd spent a better part of two hours completing. Two hours where she'd badly wanted to fall into the oblivion of alcohol. Instead of hitting the nearest liquor store as Jeff had suggested—and was likely still filling Sam's head with ideas on how unsafe Haley was—she'd focused on the image in her head. On Anne's words.

  On how she wasn't supposed to let Sam or anyone else get farther involved. Wasn't she already? Didn't she realize the amount of risk that went into her job? That had to be all the consent Haley needed.

  But...

  She was supposed to protect her sister. Not put her in harm's way.

  How's that been working for you?

  Sam would either take Jeff's words as gospel—the idea that Haley would attempt to shoot at her—or she wouldn't. As a good sister, Haley would know the answer to that. Would never have to ask the question.

  But she was the farthest thing from being a good sister to Sam. A good sister didn't destroy her own life. Didn't destroy everything around her. Burn bridges. A good sister held her little sister's hand at their mother's funeral. Held all the ugly secrets at bay. A good sister never stopped being that person. That protector. That emotional support.

  The click of the office door came seconds before light footfalls announced a presence.

  Haley's stomach surged upward. Her heart hammered wildly. "Give me a second before you yell at me."

  She needed a bit more time to brace herself for that moment when Sam threw in the towel.

  "Is there something I need to yell at you for?" Sam's voice was calm. Even. So typically Sam. She was order and rationale.

  Haley flipped her sketch facedown, swiveled in the chair, and faced her sister. "The bottle isn't mine." She took off her glasses. Folded them and clasped them in her lap with the sketch. She looked like crap, the lack of sleep not easily hidden behind makeup. She'd given up on it after a few swipes of mascara.

  Worry blossomed on Sam's face. "Have you been crying?"

  The prick of it hit her eyes. She cleared her throat. "It happens." A lot of it. As if the floodgates—almost two decades' worth—had been released. After she'd opened her trunk. Opened the gun safe and found it safely inside.

  She would remember shooting at her own sister. Would remember taking it out of the trunk. Loading it. Going to Shaver Lake.

  She would.

  Wouldn't she?

  It has to do with the beach. Look at the spot you left Theo.

  "I've seen you cry twice. Maybe."

  There was no way she could admit any of this to Sam. Sam who'd never once gotten out of control so much she questioned everything about her life. Never once done something she knew would likely kill her. Never worn self-loathing like a cloak. Embraced it. Relished the idea of dying. Given a giant middle finger to anyone who dared to care.

  "Haley."

  The prick of emotion was still beating at her retinas, but she swallowed it back. "I'm gonna make you cry if you don't change the subject."

  Sam grabbed her office chair and moved it closer to her sister. Sat. She nodded toward the bag. "What's with the duffel?"

  Haley nudged the bag that held her gun—still locked inside the safe—toward her sister. "I need to get it to Captain Riley."

  At least if he had her gun she couldn't use it or be accused of using it. And if she'd actually done what the evidence suggested, she needed to get her affairs in order.

  Including finding someone to adopt the life growing inside her. Someone who would love him or her and not see where they'd come from. Not question the lineage.

  Just see fingers and toes and smiles. Possibilities.

  If she stayed alive long enough. If the darkness she'd encountered didn't happen before she could do something good in that respect.

  "Sam..." She sat forward. "You realize this case isn't like all the other cases, right? This isn't a runaway teen. I mean, people don't just come back from the dead."

  "I don't think Claudia was ever dead." Sam stood. Grabbed a large rolled piece of paper from beside her desk and moved to the wall across the space. Unrolled it and started pinning it up.

  A map came into view, little tags across the globe. The United States was blown up, the individual states sectioned.

  Haley stood. Moved closer. Each tag held either the letters TT or AM with a date. She ran her finger over one, the places and times stuck in her mind. "Theo?"

  "Yes. Elliot and I worked on it last night."

  "Elliot?" Everything in Haley froze, the tags hitting her at once. The way they were stacked. East coast. West coast. Midwest. South. A few scattered across the middle of the US—places the news had never reported. Had never known about. "You took my research."

  "Guilty." Sam gave a sheepish smile. "Your car was unlocked."

  Relief rushed through her. She put a shaky hand on the wall. "I thought Ryan had it."

  "What?" Anger rushed across her sister's face. "Why would he care about your research? Did he threaten you again?"

  "I..." She couldn't answer that. Sam would vow to stick to her like glue. Track him down. Question him. It was wired in her soul. She wouldn't think about herself at all. And Ryan was too much of a wild card. If he thought Sam might aid him in getting the answers, he'd use her.

  "This is important, Haley."

  She moved to her duffel. She couldn't do this. Couldn't be in the same room with either of her family members. Not without messing it up. Involving them. Putting them at risk. "I need my research back."

  "Where are you going?"

  She didn't know, but the noise inside her skull urged her to get out. Run. Hide.

  "You might not care what happens to you, but I do."

  "I know, okay?" She stopped. "I get it. This—" She pointed toward the map. "is dangerous. Ryan's not a good person." Even though on paper he looked like it. Donated to various charities. Helped disabled kids. Supported local endeavors. Always had a smile for the public. A minute for his peers. A joke for kids.

  "Okay, Jeff. Why don't you let me decide what's dangerous and what isn't." Sam put a hand on both of Haley's shoulders. "Please. Who is he looking for? What does it have to do with you?"

  Haley sucked in a breath. Resisted the urge to fall into her sister's embrace. But she was supposed to be the one offering comfort. Not the other way around. "He's looking for Anne Morris. He restored her hearing with a device that needs final FDA approval."

  Sam backed up a step. "That can't happen if she's missing."

  "Right." But there was more. She knew it. There was something they were missin
g.

  The rope. The cinder block. The cigarette. Snapping fingers. Theo.

  You're better than this.

  "Why does he think you know where she is?"

  "Because I did an article on the family. I put them in connection." She'd done that.

  You know why.

  "That doesn't mean you know where she is now." Sam crossed her arms. "Unless you do."

  "No. I mean, I saw her last night, but—"

  "You saw her?" Shock blasted across Sam's face. "Why not lead with that? Why are we still sitting here talking? Let's—"

  Haley held out a hand. "She won't come home. She says it's dangerous and that whoever gets involved will be in danger. And judging from all the evidence we have—a mother in ICU, a man who confessed to the crime and then killed himself, you and Elliot being s-shot at—I'd agree."

  The ball was in Sam's court. She could pick it up or leave it. No one would blame her.

  "Where was she?"

  "Avila. Riding the waves at about ten last night."

  Sam moved to her desk. Took a sticky note from the center and drew something on it, then walked toward her map and stuck it to California's coast. Then she stepped back.

  The details Haley had just given her stuck out against the other smaller white flags. They were like an arc across the United States, Anne's tags fewer in number and stationary inside California's borders.

  They coincided in exactly one place.

  Haley moved forward, her gaze stuck on the location of the warehouse fire that had almost taken her sister's life. Almost taken her own. "You got most of this from my notes?"

  "The majority."

  Haley pointed to the flag in question. "This one wasn't in it." She barely remembered that moment in time. Going in after Theo. Waking up somewhere far from the scene. As if the entire thing had been a dream. One that left her covered in soot and her lungs on fire.

  A knock came seconds before the door opened and Lucinda entered. Her steely gaze hit them both. "Claudia Morris is awake."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  HALEY HAD DISAPPEARED.

  She'd been in the car with Sam, driving to the hospital, but as soon as they got out of the vehicle, she was gone.