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

by Rachel Trautmiller

  "It's not a joke. You keep coming here for a reason. Maybe you need something. Maybe you feel safe. Maybe you're just interested in screwing around. Killing time. Hiding."

  Yeah, maybe there was a reason. Or maybe she was the biggest waste of space. "Do you work here? Like with the kids they foster?"

  It made sense. Simon was all about helping others.

  He moved toward the patio. "I live here. I am one of the kids they foster."

  What? She followed.

  "My parents and my brother were killed a couple of years ago in an accident. Knight House took me in."

  She hadn't known that. Not that she was much of an expert on the man. Basic principles, yes. Personal information, no. He'd never offered anything to her and she'd never asked. Not that there had been a lot of time to do so in the few encounters they'd had.

  Thanks for dragging me off the streets again, and by the way? What's your family like?

  Haley had stupidly assumed he was like ninety percent of America. He had two parents—both alive—who afforded him every opportunity. Had made good choices which led to his upstanding personality and general positive outlook on life. Parents cheering him on from the sidelines. Sunday brunch. Probably a sibling that was his best friend.

  Her mother had been taken from her, but they'd known it would happen. They'd prepared as much as possible. An accident—that you didn't prepare for. It happened and you coped. "I—that's terrible."

  "I emerged from it. Became a better person."

  Yes. Yes, he had. A lesser person—heck, a normal person—would've executed a search warrant. Put her behind bars. Dusted his hands off and been done. But Simon hadn't.

  "You can do the same. A few years ago you had something tragic and unimaginable happen."

  She froze. There was no way she'd told him—or anyone—about the assault. It was the only thing in her life locked away and sealed up tight.

  She had the evidence. Had a choice on what to do about it. Nothing. She'd done nothing.

  It was why the cops hadn't believed her, her too-free lifestyle painting a picture that had led her to that moment. It was why nothing could be done.

  It hadn't been random. Hadn't been a bunch of up-to-no-good guys taking things too far. It had been calculated. Her popularity had reached a national level. She'd been approached by several organizations interested in hiring the woman who would find, and either oust a deserter, or be the champion for a missing hero.

  There'd been a tip about Theo that morning. Haley hadn't cared about the source. She'd lived in war zones, eaten military Meals Ready to Eat, sat in the sand with heroes, and heard them talk about their lives back home. Nothing was stopping her from getting these details.

  "It can define you or you can define it." He opened the sliding glass door, but turned back. "Maybe then you'll remember what you're here for."

  The prospect was both freeing and terrifying.

  "How many times have I been here?"

  "Forty-six, including today." He tapped the handle of the door with his index finger. "I'll be going to basic training next week, but if you need to come back, Vi will be here. And so will Ricky."

  Yes, Vi. Exactly who she wanted to encounter and spill her guts to. "Why would they even allow that?"

  "You really don't understand the Knight family, do you?"

  How could she? Beyond the few encounters with Ricky and the last two with Vi, she didn't remember them.

  "Stick around and you might."

  A clanging noise from inside the house grabbed her attention. Simon stepped through the door.

  She followed suit. Her heart beat a frantic rhythm as Theo Trenton walked into the front door. There was mud and dirt caked all over him. Soot in his once-blond hair. It had grown shaggy and hung past his ears—the longest she'd ever seen it.

  A part of his shirt was singed to raw-looking skin near his ribs, his arm held at an odd angle near the area. The smell of smoke permeated the living room.

  The last time she'd seen him he'd been...engulfed in flames.

  No. That wasn't right. There was something else.

  She moved toward him. "Your side. Your arm. What happened?"

  He slapped something onto the decorative table near the stairs, his fingers leaving dirt in their wake. His gaze moved to Simon. "Make sure those get where they are supposed to go."

  Haley froze.

  Simon nodded, not at all phased by the dirty man in a place he called home. Like this happened all the time. Like...

  A set of dog tags sat on the wooden surface.

  "You're dead. My sister saw you burn. She tried to save you."

  I tried to save you.

  The structure had been crumbling. There were bodies around her—four in total. Theo was tied to a chair. She couldn't breathe, the smoke was so thick. It choked every bit of oxygen from her lungs. Her eyes were blurry with tears. It was hot. Her arm had found the edge of the flames, the skin instantly singed.

  Haley lifted her jacket. Found the edge of rough skin on her forearm.

  Theo headed toward the kitchen situated off the living room. He opened a drawer and pulled out kitchen shears. Started hacking away at his shirt. A muted grunt of pain came from him as he tore it from his body.

  He opened a cabinet in view of where Simon and Haley still stood. Pulled some bandages and ointment from the shelves. A few items fell to the ground in the process. "Definitely not dead." He stooped to pick them up, pain written across his face. "Not yet, but I am starting to wish I was."

  She walked toward him, scooped up the bandages and handed them over. "Where did you come from?"

  "What do you mean where did I come from?" His eyebrows slammed together. "What does it look like?" He gestured to his side. "It wasn't the park. That's for sure." He tossed a roll of tape to Simon. "Rip me off a strip of that."

  Simon did as he was told.

  She reached for the package and split open some four-by-four gauze. "You need more than some bandages. You need a doctor. That burn is pretty bad." The skin was blistered and busted open. Raw.

  Theo applied salve, unloading the whole bottle of burn cream on the area.

  Haley moved to place the bandages over the area.

  "Don't." Theo swiped them from her hands, positioned them, and then took the tape from Simon. "Thanks for the unsolicited advice." He pulled a package of ibuprofen from the cupboard, opened it and tapped four tablets out before throwing them back into his mouth. Then he moved to the refrigerator. Opened the door, pulled out a jug of orange juice, uncapped it, and chugged it right from the container.

  Next to her Simon let out an annoyed huff. "She's right. You need a doctor."

  Theo recapped the jug and tossed it back into the fridge. "I don't need one of Vi's doctor friends giving me strange looks about a burn." He rifled through another cupboard and pulled out a box of protein bars. Took a few of them before he faded to nothing, the only evidence of his presence the mess of emergency supplies on the counter and the box of bars.

  "When were you going to mention that you know Theo Trenton?"

  Simon's dark eyes hit her. "When were you going to mention that your sister's alive?"

  What? "Of course my sister's alive. Why wouldn't she be?"

  Simon didn't say anything. Didn't move.

  Anxiety settled in Haley's gut. She'd heard him wrong. It was all wrong.

  There was a flash of the forest. A view obscured by trees. A bludgeoned body. Chestnut hair. Sightless gray eyes stared into the tree limbs as bugs crawled around colorless skin. There was a medallion in one opened palm. The "S" glimmered in the sunlight.

  Sam.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Present Day

  "WHAT EXACTLY ARE we looking for?" Elliot's voice carried to Simon's ears as they both worked compacted dry earth out of its resting place. He should've gone back to the office. Found Jeff and questioned him on the supposed evidence regarding Haley's assault. On his appearance at Hope Alive this morning and
what he'd hoped to accomplish by calling Haley out.

  Because Sam had obviously not taken Jeff's side. Not come to his defense. Not given her sister a second glance, but stepped in front of her the way families often did.

  Instead of all of that, the question burned through him.

  What were they looking for?

  What had driven Haley to dig hole after hole with little regard to her own safety? What had made her keep evidence that could put four men away?

  He hadn't seen the film—wasn't sure he wanted to.

  You're going to have to verify it.

  He'd seen a lot of gruesome things over the years. In the military and the sheriff's department. Dead bodies that had sat for days, accidents where there were no survivors, and IED's that pulverized every bit of bone, muscle, and tissue.

  Somehow seeing a gang rape on film made all of that seem like child's play. "Haley said she was looking for proof that Anne was here the night the warehouse burned."

  There had to be more.

  Elliot jammed his shovel into the ground. Lifted a chunk out. "Haley was hammered the night the warehouse burned. According to Sam."

  That he knew. Not that the occurrence was out of the norm. Now that she was sober... He'd seen that side of her only a handful of times.

  "And she didn't hold Ryan Henderson at gunpoint yesterday. He held her at gunpoint. Sam and I were both there."

  Simon stopped working. Removed one of his heavy-duty gloves and wiped the sweat pouring from his brow. "Why not come out and say that? Why do we have to be out here digging for you to give up the information? It's like you're eleven all over again." He stopped, everything in him coming alive with awareness.

  Elliot's gaze hit his, but he didn't say anything.

  He couldn't say anything. Of course. This wasn't like when they were kids with adults around to protect them. "I've been getting snatches of weird memories. Like déjà vu." Only worse because they were occurrences that made sense coming to him in dream-like quality.

  Elliot went back to working the ground. "Me too."

  Okay. "You're the expert. Explain it to me."

  "There's no expertise, here, buddy. Hate to break it to you. That department shut down a long time ago."

  "So you can be safe?" Something huge was happening here. Something that had the potential to swallow them all whole. It hummed along the edge of his nerves. Was amped up anytime he came into contact with Haley.

  Elliot drove his shovel into the dirt again. "I remember these arguments going the other way when I was a kid."

  They had. It had been Simon reigning Elliot in. Elliot irked about missed opportunities to save lives. Save futures. Save anything. At least the four years Simon had lived at Knight House. "Maybe you ought to think about that. Let it simmer a little."

  Elliot threw down his shovel. It hit the ground with a vibrating tone. "Okay. I'll let it simmer. We're getting snatches of memory because the younger version of me is running around changing stuff with little regard to anyone."

  "Are you pissed because you're not in charge or because things are going in a direction you don't like?"

  Elliot gave a shake of his head.

  These conversations had never been easy. They'd been brain-numbing as the mind tried to wrap around situations that made no sense. Simon had actually packed his bag the first time he'd ever witnessed Elliot travel in time. The first time he'd realized something was not normal. He'd been at the bus station when he'd had his mind changed.

  That had been the first time he'd ever seen Haley. He was almost sure of it, her face materializing in his mind just this morning as he wrapped her hands. He'd been waiting for the bus, only one bag left of his entire life. Sixteen years old. He'd expected Ricky or Miss Vi to show up for a chat. A chat he'd already mentally prepared for.

  He wasn't going to another foster home. This wasn't his life. He'd had a mom and dad who loved him. A little brother who wanted to be like him. He didn't need help from the system. And he didn't need the Knight family and their weird...he didn't even know how to describe the way Ricky and Miss Vi often knew the things they knew. Or the way they seemed to appear or disappear at random. The way no one seemed to question any of it.

  It was strange and he'd wanted out.

  Instead Haley had sat down next to him. She was older—maybe thirty—and sober, but there was still a spark he'd qualify as uniquely Haley with the edge of wariness and sadness covering it up.

  She hadn't said anything for ten minutes. Just watched people pass by them with luggage. Some talking. Some laughing. Some not saying anything.

  He'd been about to pick up his bag and take a walk.

  "You can't get on that bus, Simon." Her gaze was straight ahead as if she hadn't said anything at all, but her hands were clenched in her lap and there was a small swirl of anxiety curling in the air.

  And when everything inside him told him to shrug off anything the woman would say, he hadn't moved.

  "I thought this would be easier. I've been all over the world. Talked to people through bombings and mortars, holding their wounded, dying, or dead loved ones." She looked at him then, those brown eyes latching on to him, the flecks of brown so deep they were almost black. There wasn't a hint of makeup on her face, but her skin was flawless. Her dark hair was braided to one side. "I've written articles that have won awards, so putting a few moving sentences together shouldn't be hard." She paused, seemed to weigh her words. Her thoughts. Something. "You can't get on the bus."

  Yeah, okay. He should've moved.

  She pulled out two pictures and placed one on the bench between them and held the other. A family of four came into view. Two girls under the age of seven and in the embrace of their red-haired mother. The father stood behind them in full service dress. Serious. Aloof.

  "That's my mom, the Colonel, and my sister." One of her legs vibrated as she wiggled it up and down, the bench taking on the motion. "My mom died when I was twelve."

  The words were an emotional punch to his chest.

  "Cancer. Before she got sick, she was planning to leave the Colonel. And then the doctor told her she was living on borrowed time and she didn't. I guess she figured there was no point in putting us through that if she wouldn't be around to make sure we were okay." She produced another item. A silver medallion with an "H" on it. "She had these made for us and pulled us each aside. She said that things in life sometimes don't make sense. You have to take the good out of what you can and move forward or none of the sacrifices of the people that came before you will matter. Your presence is a ripple that echoes. You have so much potential, don't waste it." She paused. "I don't know what she told my sister. I never asked. I wish I had."

  If he had a chance to talk to his brother again, he'd probably tell him not to get in that car with his parents. He'd tell them all to stay home. There was nothing worth dying for. "Why don't you?"

  "My sister was murdered a couple of years ago." She handed over the second picture and he took it.

  Just reached out like he was meant to hold a photo of the older version of the little red-haired girl he'd seen in the first photo. She had to be about twenty-five. Her sightless eyes were open. There was a wound in the middle of her forehead, the trickle of blood running between her eyes and across the bridge of her nose and down her cheek.

  The movement of Haley's leg increased.

  "I know getting on a bus seems a lot easier than dealing with a situation far beyond your control. Trust me, I understand. I've been sober for a year and I'd really kill for a drink right now. And I could do that. I could find a bar and blow all my money on scotch—obliterate everything I've been working toward. If I'm not successful here, I might."

  "Successful?" This woman was a stranger. His actions shouldn't mean anything to her. A kid getting on a bus wasn't that important. "Did Miss Vi send you?"

  "Yes and no."

  He grabbed his bag and stood, anger flaring to life in his bones. "I'm just getting on a bus. Going to find
my way in life. I'm not planning to live a life of crime or anything. Why ruin a year of sobriety over someone you don't even know?"

  She gathered the photos and the medallion. "Why get on a bus—leave a good family that cares about you—just because you saw something you don't understand?"

  He'd been scared. Scared he'd put his trust in a family that was the polar opposite of what his family had been like.

  Simon took a breath.

  Haley had disappeared that day same as Vi and Ricky always did. Left him thinking about her words. The way she'd handed over the pictures of a sister Simon hadn't yet met. He'd missed the bus. Had sat there until Miss Vi had shown up and asked if he wanted to go home.

  But the picture? He'd forgotten that part. Sam was alive. And minus the warehouse incident, she'd never come close to losing her life that he knew of. Not with a...

  Bullet.

  He replaced his work glove and gripped the shovel in his hand. Elliot watched him. He could claim the ship had sailed on his time travel days and expertise, but that would never go away. It was a part of him. A part of Sam. A part of Haley. And if he shared his memory, Elliot would be off so fast it would make Simon's head spin. "Want to know what I think?"

  "You're gonna tell me anyway."

  "You're afraid after everything you've accomplished in life that there will be something you can't change—someone you can't save."

  Elliot saluted him. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

  Simon's shovel hit something hard. He bent near the hole he'd been working in. It was an inch to the left of where Haley had been digging when he'd found her here. He swiped dirt from what looked like the edge of a large rock.

  He dug his way around it.

  Elliot moved toward him. Squatted near the hole. Began lifting the rock as Simon uncovered it. It was the size of a misshapen lockbox. He set the shovel aside, noted the panel at the front. Removed it. Nine digits sat behind it.

  "Not your average rock." Elliot punched in four numbers. They flashed red like they would on any standard safe.

  "No." He knelt near it, the sight of Haley punching a code in her gun safe cropping up in his mind. He hit the numbers. It flashed red again. He gave it another try.