Dress 2 Impress: A Jennifer Cloud Novel (Jennifer Cloud Series)

by Janet Leigh

  It didn’t take long for us to go through the nightstand.

  “Is this why Caiyan was here last month asking all kinds of questions about my key?” Aunt Itty asked.

  “I’m not sure. I think we need to go back to the WTF so we can report in and sort this out,” Ace said.

  “I’m coming, too,” Aunt Itty said as Ace stood behind her, shaking his head and mouthing, “No way.”

  Aunt Itty began clearing the tea tray. “That key was my responsibility. It’s all I have left of Liam, and I swear on Her Majesty’s life that no brigand will get that key.”

  “Aunt Itty,” Ace began, but I put my hand on his arm, and he relented. The poor woman was beside herself with worry, and maybe she would be of some help at the WTF.

  Itty left the room to change her clothes. Ace left a note for Campy in case he returned, but my radar was revving up in regard to our MIA teenager. If he didn’t have the gift, maybe someone who did had him steal the key. Or maybe a brigand broke in and stole it. Or maybe Aunt Itty moved it and forgot which jar it was in. The possibilities were endless. Ace stood smiling with his thumbs hanging out of his front jeans pockets.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re doing that thing where you run all the scenarios through your head.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Your blond hair is starting to frizz, and your eyes are glazed over.”

  “Humph.”

  Aunt Itty came back into the room. She had changed into a pair of slacks and a flowered tunic top and was hurriedly tying a scarf over her hair in case we might change our minds. Her spectacles had been replaced with a pair of chic sunglasses, and she announced she was ready to go.

  We had started to walk toward the front door when she announced, “I’m driving. I hardly ever go anywhere anymore.”

  Ace paused, started to argue, then sighed, and we turned around and followed her out the back door. Aunt Itty’s backyard looked like one you might find out in the country dump. There was a weathered barn with various pieces of mowing equipment lying about. An old refrigerator sat on the back porch next to a soda vending machine. I felt like I had just gone through a time warp. Fantasy world out the front door and John Deere out the back.

  Ace started to argue with Aunt Itty again. “Aunt Itty, maybe we should just take our own vessels and meet up at the WTF.”

  “Horsefeathers! We can all ride along in mine. It holds three, you know.” She said it with pride, and I bet in her younger days she was an awesome transporter.

  Wonderland was using Aunt Itty’s backyard as a retirement farm for their old equipment. We walked past an old single-engine airplane, a minitank, and a weathered carousel. Under a big shade tree sat an old rusted-out Ford pickup. My guess was it used to be red but succumbed to the corrosion of time.

  Ace huffed as we walked over to it. Aunt Itty hoisted herself into the driver’s seat, while Ace and I stood staring at the broken-down truck.

  “Well, come on, kids, this is a 1936 Ford half-ton; they don’t make ’em like this anymore.” She patted the dash as if it were brand-new.

  I figured if I could travel in an outhouse, how bad could it be? I reached up and gave the door handle a pull. The door creaked open, inviting us inside. I looked over at Ace.

  “Well, get in, love,” he demanded. “I am not riding bitch.” I snickered and climbed in, and Ace followed, securing his lap belt. Aunt Itty said the magic word, and with one loud backfire, we were sent spinning into a world of darkness.

  Chapter 12

  Our arrival at Gitmo went surprisingly smoothly. Aunt Itty was a much better driver than I was. The three of us climbed down from the landing pad and headed single file toward Jake’s office. He met us in the hallway. Jake had only been with the CIA a few months. After he completed his CIA training at “The Farm,” they sent him directly to Gitmo to maintain order among the travelers. He never had the pleasure of meeting Aunt Itty.

  We stopped in front of Jake, and he introduced himself. Aunt Itty smiled at Agent Jake McCoy and looked in my direction as if to say, Why not him?

  I smiled pleasantly back at her with my been there, done that expression. We followed Jake down the corridor to the travel lab, explaining about Campy on the way. Al and Pickles were inside, pecking away on their computers. As Aunt Itty stepped into the travel lab, Al’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He stood and almost skipped over to Aunt Itty.

  “Italina, how are you?” he asked, taking one of her hands and placing a kiss on the top of it.

  “Alfred, you are looking very well,” she responded, stiffly jerking her hand out from under the kiss.

  Whoa, where was the mellifluous little lady I met earlier? I wondered what the history was between them because there was obviously something hanging in the air. My inner voice was pushing her poker chips toward relationship troubles. I told her to save her money and ask Ace about this later.

  Pickles wheeled over, and Aunt Itty leaned down and gave him a peck on the cheek. The two of them exchanged nice words; no need for anger management with Pickles. The three of us took a seat in the big comfy chairs facing the giant screen as Pickles brought the dots up for us to view. The red dot was still blipping around the screen close to the Hollywood Hills, and the blue dot was in the same city but much farther away from the red dot. Al brought Aunt Itty up to snuff on the details as we knew them. Brodie had not returned, but Jake informed us it may take a few days to research all of Caiyan’s properties. We didn’t know which one he was at last, so Brodie had to check them all out. I wanted to ask how many and where they were, but I added that to my memo for Ace because asking Jake was not likely to get me any answers.

  Jake told us the little dwarf—I think they called him Gerald—was still doing recon on the Mafuso family. He had reported in, letting us know there was no sign of Mitchell Mafuso, and there was a rumor he had stayed during his last travel. Ace caught Al and Pickles up on our theory that the traveler might be Campy.

  Al took out his metal pointer and aimed it at the blue dot. “Caiyan, for some reason, cannot seem to get close to the red dot.” He looked over at Jake. “It would be a good idea to send someone back on Monday during the moon cycle to see what the problem is.”

  Jake looked at me and shook his head no.

  “Oh come on, Jake, how hard could it be to go check out the situation?” I asked. “If the traveler is Campy, he’s probably not dangerous, and Caiyan is there to help me.”

  “Maybe,” Jake said. “We don’t know what kind of predicament Caiyan has gotten himself into.” He shrugged. “Besides, you don’t know anything about 1985, and we’ve just begun your training.”

  “What if I took someone who knows something about 1985?” I asked.

  Everyone turned to look at me. “You mean take a nontraveler, dear?” Aunt Itty questioned as if this couldn’t be done.

  “Well, yes,” I said. “My cousin Gertie went with me the first time, and she knows a lot about everything. She has a photographic memory, and we still have two days for both of us to study that time period.”

  “It might work,” Pickles chimed in. “If Campy is de traveler, he’s no more dan fifteen. He’s probably chasing some beauty queen, and Caiyan’s having trouble persuading him to come home.” He wheeled around in front of us. “I tink it’s a good idea to let Jen go have a peek at de situation. Den we would know fer sure if Caiyan is in trouble.”

  “I’m not comfortable with Jen and Gertie going alone.” Jake stood and paced around the room. “I just can’t risk it.”

  “What if I get another traveler to go with me?”

  “Jen, we’ve been over this. There’s no one the right age.”

  “Well, there’s Marco,” I said and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “If we could get him to go, dat might be good,” Pickles said. “He has experience traveling, and he knows
the Mafusos.”

  “Also, the Mafusos covet Marco’s special abilities, and maybe we could persuade him to work for the WTF. Having him on our side would be very appreciated by the WTF, and you would get all the credit,” Al added, putting emphasis on the final words.

  Jake sighed. “All right, you three go see Marco.” He pointed at Aunt Itty, Ace, and me. “And if you can get him to go with you, and if Caiyan doesn’t return when the portal opens, and if you agree not to screw up the past, I’ll let you go.”

  Ace gave me a high five, and I turned to Jake. “Thanks.”

  Jake screwed his mouth into a grimace. “I said if.”

  Jake provided us with black trench coats because we were not dressed for New York weather. Aunt Itty told us she felt like Dick Tracy, but I thought she looked more like Tracey Ullman. Aunt Itty, Ace, and I rode to New York City together in Aunt Itty’s Ford. We landed in a big vacant lot across from a construction site next to the Brooklyn Bridge.

  “I think you overshot us a little, Aunt Itty,” Ace said, staring at the bridge. Everyone vacated the truck and scoped out our location.

  “Oops, my accuracy is a little off,” Aunt Itty said, tapping her finger to her lips. “I was aiming for that nice spot in Chinatown, behind that place that sells the delicious eggrolls.” She looked out over the water as if the restaurant she was seeking might appear. “Ace, do you know the one?”

  Ace rolled his eyes at Itty. “Aunt Itty, it’s called China Town.”

  “Oh, that’s right, dear. How could I forget?”

  “I could go for some moo goo gai pan; I’m starving,” Ace replied, rubbing his stomach.

  “Hey, you guys,” I interjected. “I thought we were here to talk to Marco.”

  “True, dear, but we have to eat, too.” Aunt Itty made a palms-up gesture with her hands. “We are really close to Grimaldi’s.” She pointed up the hill. “Let’s go have a slice of pizza pie.”

  “Pizza’s good,” Ace replied.

  We parked outside Grimaldi’s, and I was surprised the truck actually worked like a real truck. We were standing in line out on the sidewalk to the pizza place, trying to decide the best way to ask Marco to travel. Ace thought we should just kidnap him and take him back with us. He was sure that was the only way to get him to go. Aunt Itty wanted to go buy some cupcakes at the Magnolia Bakery. She thought bribing him with sugar or sex was the answer. Since I wasn’t offering up the latter, she went with the cupcakes.

  “How about we just ask him nicely,” I suggested.

  “It will never work,” Ace said. “Marco won’t travel. He barely helped us out the last time we needed him.”

  “What do you mean, barely?” I asked. “He took a bullet saving me and Gertie.”

  Ace frowned. “Well, I meant initially.”

  Aunt Itty waved her hands and tsked at us. “Let’s get the cupcakes, and then we can ask him nicely.” She pulled her coat around her chin when a big wind blew by. “If that doesn’t work, we’ll do it Ace’s way.”

  I agreed. The cupcakes couldn’t hurt. After we finished off what was probably the best pizza I had ever eaten, we piled into the truck for a trip to the bakery. We found the quaint bakery at the corner of Eleventh and Bleecker Streets, but we had to wait in another line.

  “Isn’t there anyplace in New York that doesn’t have a line?” I asked, not used to waiting in lines at pizza places and bakeries.

  “No,” Ace and Aunt Itty said in unison.

  Ace added, “Well, not anyplace you would want to go.”

  We finally made it inside, and the smell was heavenly. It reminded me of one of the patients at the clinic. She worked in a doughnut shop, and every time she came in, she smelled like a doughnut. It was hard not to lick her.

  We bought an assortment of goodies and headed to Marco’s apartment in SoHo. He lived on the top floor of a building that he owned. Mainly because the roof was his garage for his vessel, a Formula One race car.

  “I haven’t seen Marco since he was a baby,” Aunt Itty said. She looked lost in thought as Ace directed her toward the apartment building. “I think the last time was at his parents’ house in Italy. They were having a wine festival, and he was toddling around in his nappies.”

  I thought of Marco in diapers. He was so incredible looking, thinking of him as a baby was difficult. He was probably born with muscles. His tall, blond image with the big dimple in his chin clouded my thoughts. He was so cocky, and when we touched, it felt like my world was on fire. Just thinking about him made me squeeze my knees together. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the reason we were here. Damn Caiyan for leaving me alone and horny. Ace caught me out of the corner of his eye.

  He patted my knee. “It’s OK. He does that to me, too.”

  I opened my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Ace laughed. “Sure, hon.”

  The truck backfired as we parallel parked next to a meter. Ace jumped out and paid the meter as Aunt Itty and I got out of the truck. We walked the short distance to Marco’s building. The apartment didn’t have a doorman, but there was a secured entrance. Ace pressed all the buttons on the intercom. Thankfully, an unconcerned citizen beeped us in, and the door opened. We took the elevator to the penthouse and rang Marco’s doorbell. He opened the door with a sigh. “What did I do to deserve this intrusion?” he asked, stepping aside to let us in.

  “Hey, Marco, buddy.” Ace shook his hand. “We were in the neighborhood.”

  “Yeah, right.” He looked me up and down as I passed over the threshold.

  “Hi.” I stopped and gave him a quick, hot peck on the cheek. He raised an eyebrow, and then his gaze dropped down to Aunt Itty. She stood in the doorway, mouth open, gaping at Marco.

  “And who is this?” he asked. His blond hair curled around the nape of his neck, and his steel-blue eyes stared at Aunt Itty.

  “This is Aunt Itty,” I said with a cherubic smile. “She hasn’t seen you since you were in diapers.”

  “My, my,” Aunt Itty finally said. “You sure have filled out your nappies.”

  “Caiyan’s Aunt Itty,” I explained.

  “Well, come in, Aunt Itty,” he said, motioning with his hand as if admitting another admirer was fine.

  Everyone stood in the foyer afraid to move forward into the living room.

  “We brought you some cupcakes,” Aunt Itty said, presenting the bakery box to Marco.

  He took the box and opened it. “Yum, my favorite, devil’s food.” He winked at me, picked up one, and took a bite. “Yep, tastes like a bribe to me. C’mon in and sit down so you three stooges can tell me what’s going on.”

  We walked over to the couch, and all three of us sat down side by side on the sofa. Marco set the box down on the coffee table and stood in front of us, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing faded jeans and an Islanders sweat shirt. His feet were bare, and he wore three rope leather bracelets on his right wrist.

  “The reason we’re here, Marco, is—” Ace began, but Marco cut him off midsentence.

  “Not you, her.” He pointed at me.

  “Well, it’s like this—” And I proceeded to tell him about the mystery traveler, Caiyan being stuck in 1985, and how I was the only one the right age to go back and save him.

  Marco reached down and took another cupcake from the box. “Let me get this straight. You want me to go back in time with you and Gertie, who got captured the last time you went back together, to save your boyfriend and some mystery traveler?” He took a bite out of the cupcake and glared at me. A smidge of icing was hugging the corner of his mouth, and I heard Ace gasp in ecstasy beside me. Marco wiped it away with the back of his hand and finished the cupcake.

  “That about sums it up,” I said. “Except for the boyfriend part. I’m not sure about that.”

  “Thank you very much for
the cupcakes,” he said as he walked to the door. “Aunt Itty, it was a pleasure catching up after all these years, and, Ace—well good-bye.” He opened the door and stood waiting for us to leave.

  “Are you sure you won’t help us?” I asked, flashing my baby blues at his.

  “Last time I helped you, I got shot. Two weeks in the hospital and three weeks of rehab, and I just started doing test runs at the track.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” I said, dropping my head.

  The three of us stood up, and I was contemplating begging him to help us. “Couldn’t you please do this one last favor?”

  “Are you offering more than cupcakes?” He looked me up and down. I cut my eyes at Aunt Itty. How rude to ask me such a question in front of the sweet little old lady.

  “Nope,” I said, but my inner voice was shouting, Stupid girl! in four languages at me.

  “Are you sure, dear?” Aunt Itty turned and asked me.

  My mouth was hanging open, and Marco let out a big bark of laughter.

  Ace chimed in. “I’m happy to oblige—”

  “Not in this lifetime.” Marco’s laugh changed to a low growl.

  Ace, Aunt Itty, and I trooped out into the hall with slumped shoulders, and Marco waved good-bye from the doorway. He made sure we boarded the elevator before he shut the door.

  “Now what do we do?” I asked.

  “Plan B.” Ace smiled. “This is going to be fun.” Aunt Itty and I looked at each other, a little worried, but maybe if we could just get Marco to Gitmo, he would have a change of heart.

  “Let’s go get your cousin Gertie on board, and then we can put our heads together and have a nice cup of cocoa.” Aunt Itty linked elbows with me as we exited Marco’s building.

  I couldn’t help but giggle. “Let’s go.” I locked elbows with Ace, and we walked off, not down the yellow brick road but the cracked sidewalk of SoHo to our waiting vessel.