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

by Rachel Trautmiller

  "Sam."

  "We see how well that worked last year. I am fine. That was seventeen years ago and I understand that sitting at her bedside would have done nothing for her. I left because she told me to. Because she knew her breaths were numbered and she didn't want me to see her die. Please report those facts back to the Colonel and anyone else you see fit."

  Shock etched its way across Elliot's face. The expression in his too-blue eyes softened. "I'm sorry. That's..."

  Everything inside of her stopped, the power to breathe a struggle. He was shocked. The I-am-hearing-this-for-the-first-time kind of shock mixed in with a little bit of something else. Even Jeff hadn't worn this expression when he heard a short recounting. And they'd been married at that point. "The Colonel didn't tell you anything."

  "No, I..."

  She curled her lips inward. Stifled the bit of hysterical laughter bubbling in her throat. How typical of the Colonel to be one move ahead of her. Always.

  Elliot reached out toward her.

  She stepped away. Started walking again, her focus on the trees around them as she struggled to choke back the fury—yeah that's what it was—clawing at her insides.

  How stupid could she get?

  She was leaving this forest—even if she had to walk all the way back. She'd call Ricky's mom. Then she'd make sure the Colonel found someone else—someone other than her for this assignment. Elliot could have it.

  "Wait up." His footsteps echoed beside her, but he didn't say anything when he reached her side.

  Maybe the Colonel wasn't wrong to send in backup. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this day.

  Nothing about it was ever normal. And she'd compounded that last year when she'd followed her sister into a warehouse. When she'd purposely not communicated every detail to the man beside her.

  To cover for Haley. Again.

  "So you were, what, seven when she passed away?"

  "Uh-huh." She dared a glance in his direction. Didn't find any pity, only curiosity. "Your math skills are impressive."

  A small smile lit his face and revealed a portion of his white teeth. A dimple in his right cheek. It had everything inside of her grinding to a halt. She stumbled over a tree root.

  His hand found her arm, steadied her, a flash of heat moving through her. She started up the path again, away from the feel of his skin on hers.

  "What was she like?"

  "You don't have to do this." She sat on a recently cut stump just off the path. Adjusted her bag. "I shouldn't have said all of that. It was a moment of weakness. It won't happen again."

  "Talking about the people we love isn't weakness."

  "Fine. A moment of insanity. Either way, I don't expect you to make small talk about a woman you didn't know."

  He sat next to her, set the file behind him. His leg brushed up against hers. It sent a zing through her.

  There was something wrong with her head today.

  He placed his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward, clasping his hands between his legs. His gaze went to their surroundings. The birds flying overhead. The squirrels climbing the branches. The sun coming through the trees. "I imagine she was probably outgoing. Smart. Funny."

  Katherine Billings had been so much more than Sam would ever be. And the words just slipped out, "She always smiled. Even through cancer, she had this glow about her. Like everything would work out. There wasn't anyone who met her who didn't love her instantly." Of course all of that was tempered through seven-year-old eyes and feelings. And since nobody who'd actually known her ever talked about her, the truth could be whatever Sam wanted. In seven-year-old Sam's mind, Katherine Billings had been everything Sam ever wanted to be. Kind. Smart. Funny. Patient. Caring.

  "Cancer." He looked at her. "That's rough. I'm sorry."

  It had been. The smiles hadn't been able to hide all of the pain. Even at seven she'd been able to tell. She cleared her throat. "So this girl we're here for..."

  His gaze was still locked on her, and for a moment she feared he might try to continue the conversation. Try to probe things best left unsaid. Then he grabbed the file and opened it. Flipped through the pages as if she'd never said anything out of the norm. "Anne, right? Someone said they saw her out here. Do we have any idea who?"

  I've seen her and I know you can, too, if you try.

  Which meant she couldn't throw in the towel. She needed to focus. On the here and now. Not the past. That's how she'd make her mom proud. How she'd move past the Trenton case. How she'd prove to herself—and everyone else—that her actions from last year weren't as erratic and careless as they seemed.

  "Have you talked to anyone yet? It sounds like the campers who saw her are here the entire week."

  She pulled out the report. Couldn't find the answers anywhere on the pages, but the truth slammed into her all the same. "It was a kid."

  "The report made it sound like the adults in the family were the ones to spot Anne. Not the kids." His gaze was centered on her as he waited for answers. As if he actually had faith that she held them. She knew what the file said, but she also had Ricky's accounts.

  How far in the past had he seen Anne? And how was she supposed to explain any of it to Elliot?

  Behind him, the sun came through a break in the branches and hit on something shiny across the path. She flipped her folder shut, stuffed it in her bag, and moved toward it.

  A circular object protruded from the dirt. She bent low to get a better view even as everything inside of her prepared for the worst. A large "H" was overshadowed by a date and a message. One Sam had committed to memory the summer her mother had died.

  It sucked all the air from her lungs. Had the blood in her body creating fuzzy patterns in her veins.

  Elliot squatted next to her. Read the words aloud. "Wherever you go, I'll be there. Love, Mom."

  None of this made sense. "It's Hal's."

  He stood so fast his head hit one of the low hanging branches. A wince filled the silence. "Hal's?" He rubbed his head. "Like your sister, Haley?"

  "Yes." Her heart beat out of whack. This could be explained. It wasn't related. It probably wasn't even actually Haley's. It was... "My mom had these made for us both. Hal lost it when we were kids. We both did."

  "Looks like someone found it."

  She shook her head. Rose. "My dad took some extended leave from the Air Force. We took a trip to the coast and rented a cabin on the beach. Spent quite a bit of time in the sand between hospital visits. She gave us both a medallion." And she and Haley had been so caught up in having fun, their medallions had been lost in the sand. "You can't tell me it happened to make it all the way here by accident."

  "Maybe they were a mass-produced item."

  Maybe. Yeah. That could explain it. But... "The date is Hal's birthday."

  He swallowed. "When is the last time you saw your sister?"

  Christmastime came to mind. She'd been drunk. So drunk and in the foulest mood Sam had ever seen. Haley had destroyed half of their mother's china. Thrown a plate at Lucinda, cursed at Sam and attempted to attack Jeff. The Colonel had kicked her out. Sam had tried to follow her, only to be waylaid by both Jeff and Lucinda.

  Sam had tried to reach Haley for weeks afterward. Had even gone to her apartment without luck. There had been nothing until she'd shown up out of the blue last week in a flattering maxi dress and matching shirt. Sworn she'd been working on getting her life together. She'd even gained a healthy amount of weight.

  "Sam?" Elliot's voice was tight with worry.

  "She showed up at my house last week and told me about a journalism job she'd landed." That and a man she'd met. Her excitement had quickly fueled Sam's and she'd dared to hope her older sister would be okay. Might return to the possibility of the woman she'd been before the last couple of years.

  The outgoing nomadic journalist on a mission.

  "And nothing since?"

  "We text." Quick sentences that assured Sam her sister was alive. It was better than the silence Haley p
referred even in good spirits. "We've gone weeks without talking before." When Haley had been on assignment in Iraq. Afghanistan. Germany. "Why does it seem like I should be drilling you on all of this?"

  His lips formed a firm line, the annoyance back in his stance. "Your sister isn't being straight with you."

  CHAPTER SIX

  HE WAS THE biggest idiot on the planet.

  Elliot had meant to ease into this discussion with Sam at some point. Probably not today. Probably not until this case was over. Let her know that she needed—both her and the Colonel—needed to do something about Haley. Help her. Anything.

  Get her off his couch.

  Regardless, he'd meant to feel out the situation before he jumped in headfirst.

  But he'd forgotten whom he was with. Sam was all about being blunt, whole body, one hundred percent, no holds barred. And somehow that seemed to cross over to him whenever they were together.

  He couldn't afford that. Couldn't afford to throw everything he had on the table. He'd learned a long time ago where the line in the sand was drawn.

  Where the dangers lie.

  "What do you mean she's not being straight with me?" A whisper of a summer breeze moved a piece of Sam's chestnut hair across her face and fair skin. She tucked it behind one ear, the chunky bracelets on her arm moving upward a fraction with the motion. An exotically sweet smell filled his nostrils.

  Clogging his brain—when he desperately needed to think. Clearly. To counteract the worry and frustration rushing across her features.

  He was usually quicker than this. Smarter. But she'd thrown him off track with the story about her mom. With the vulnerability she cast in the tiniest of blips he couldn't help catching.

  Elliot should have found a different way—different time to tell her about Haley. Not right now. Out in the middle of nowhere. The words had rushed out, further proving he'd been knocked out of whack by the events of the morning.

  Knocked out by both the Billings' sisters. One with a bunch of crazy, the other with...

  "Elliot." Impatience lined Sam's words.

  The pendant still in the ground caught his eye. He'd seen it before—or one similar. Something about it sounded a giant alarm all the way to his toes. "I need you to remain calm. Hear me out."

  Not a hint of emotion resided on her face, but the sensation of unreleased anger rippled toward him all the same. "That's what people say when they know the other person has every right to panic or get angry."

  She had him there. Sort of. "Or when they know the other person might completely flip out unnecessarily."

  Sam's eyes shot daggers into him.

  Yeah. Now was not the best time. He doubted there would ever be one. They'd started this on the wrong foot. All the way back to last summer. When he hadn't stopped her from entering that warehouse to bring out Theo Trenton—demanded she give a full disclosure. When he'd watched the place collapse on top of her. When he'd taken all that fear and anger and bottled it up and brought it to the hospital with him.

  And like an idiot, he'd never bothered to discuss it with her after that moment. Just let it lie like an ugly secret.

  He cleared his throat. "You said a kid might be our answer here?"

  "I don't think so." She pointed a finger at him. "You just talked about mutual trust less than five minutes ago. Why don't you dish some of it?"

  He might have laughed with the way she'd thrown his words back at him if they weren't in the middle of the forest. If her sister wasn't taking up residence on his couch and asking for money and favors that made little sense.

  "What do I need to know about Haley? Is she drinking again? Is she in some kind of trouble?"

  Haley was right. An explanation wasn't an easy one here. He doubted Sam would like your-sister's-been-invading-my-space-and-I-don't-know-why. The second he unveiled the truth, Sam would be out of here. Headed right toward wherever her sister was at this exact moment—good or bad. "I don't—"

  The crack of gunfire split through his words, a bullet smacking into the tree behind Sam. She flinched. Bark went flying. A piece flicked across her cheek. A splinter of it bit into his shoulder, the sting minimal as his heart picked up speed. Adrenaline pumped through his system in a wicked rush.

  He dove toward Sam, wound his hands around her midsection, and spun her toward the ground. Covered her body with his. Was careful to keep his full weight off of her.

  He glanced around the area. An empty forest greeted him. Down at the beach, families continued to swim, oblivious. His heart hammered louder. The shot had come from the direction of the beach.

  "Any chance you've got your gun?" His was in his glove box inside his car still parked at the side of the road.

  "No." The pulse at her neck beat in a frantic rhythm. Her eyes were wide, but scanning the area as much as her position would allow. "I'm an idiot."

  No. She was perfect. The woman not panicking right now. He knew a bunch of them that would. He'd been in combat with some of them. He'd take Sam any day.

  Another shot rang out. The bark above their heads shattered like glass hitting tile flooring. "It came from the shoreline." Which meant they needed more protection than the undergrowth.

  Sam's gaze lit on a mature grouping of tall pines.

  "Let's move. Your eleven. Keep low to the ground. If I go down, keep running. Got it?" He didn't wait for a response. Just hauled her into a crouch, kept his body behind hers. He pushed her toward the incline. Away from the shoreline and the possibility of innocent casualties. "Go."

  Another shot rang out as she charged up the path. He matched her speed, careful to stay in direct line of where the shooter might be aiming. The bullet hit a tree a foot in front of them. The hair on his body stood on end. Another crack split the air, this one almost in slow motion.

  An image of her sightless gray eyes and a large pool of blood bloomed in his mind.

  No. That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it.

  Elliot moved in. Tackled her. He hadn't used a slingshot in forever, but he forced his mind from where they were to another place. A safer one. Prayed that he hadn't lost his touch. Then he rolled, tucking her body closer to his seconds before they landed on unforgiving flooring. It took the breath from him.

  A hard space—the ugliest marble he'd ever been happy to see. Hope Alive's waiting room came into view—the leather chairs and decoratively placed knickknacks Lucinda loved. The table she filled with treats that no one ever ate.

  His shoulder screamed in agony. Tucked in his grasp, Sam was in the fetal position, her arms over her head. She didn't move.

  "Sam?" He sat up, everything inside him curled into a tight ball. He ran his hands over her arms and head, the soft texture of her hair registering somewhere in his brain. There wasn't any blood anywhere on her.

  She had to be okay.

  The sound of her deep inhale filled the space seconds before she sat up. Elliot moved backward.

  Her gaze lit around the room.

  He let out a breath. Glanced at his watch. He'd slung them forward an hour. The outer office was empty, Lucinda's desk vacant and neat, the only things on it a notepad and pen. Both were strategically placed next to the phone.

  Ready for the next call. The next case. She and the Colonel were likely at a meeting. "You okay?"

  Her gaze hit his. The scrape on her cheek oozed a little.

  He would have to explain. Maybe. Sometimes a slingshot—any forward progression in time—could cause memory distortion. Even temporary or permanent memory loss. He couldn't afford either of those things right now. He was still trying to work out how they'd ended up together. Right here. And if a guy with a gun might charge through the front door.

  "It worked."

  Elliot froze. "W-what?"

  "I haven't...it's been a long time since I—" She held her hands up, palms toward him. Her eyes were wide and her mouth parted. None of which helped his brain function better. "Don't panic, okay? I can explain."

  "Explain?" He ground h
is molars together. He sounded like a moron.

  No. He was a moron. They'd been out there talking for twenty minutes and in that time someone had a gun trained on them. They could've died. Could've been shot and bled out before anyone would've been able to do a thing.

  She shifted. "What just happened..."

  What just... The truth hit him. She thought she'd done it. She thought she'd slung them forward in time.

  His heart hadn't slowed any. She thought she'd done it, because she had. Electricity buzzed through his system, the awareness tempered with dread. She'd tried to remove him from danger. And the only reason she still wasn't in the forest—or anywhere else—was because he'd chosen that same moment to do the same things.

  "Don't panic." The emotion rose in his system. He pushed it down and stood. "That's something people say when they know the other person has every right to do so. I think those were the words you used."

  "Not exact, but fair enough." She gave a slight smile as she mirrored his stance. "Elliot..."

  He couldn't have this conversation. Not until he got his bearings. Not until he made sure she didn't go around explaining time travel to every person she came into contact with. Did neither Billings' sister have any self-preservation? Didn't they understand what might happen if the whole world was aware of what they could do?

  He pulled a twig from her hair. Resisted the urge to trail his hands over her for a little extra assurance that she was okay. He needed to get it together before the Colonel or Lucinda walked in and started asking questions. "You need to have your cheek looked at." He tilted her head toward the light. "Might be some bark left in this cut."

  She froze, her gaze stuck on him and her breath coming in little puffs that hit his fingers. As if she hadn't anticipated him touching her—or getting this close to do so. The pulse at her neck had picked up speed. He could feel it throughout his body as if he had his fingers pressed to the spot.

  How had he not known she could travel in time?

  "Same to you." Her gaze dipped. "Your shoulder."