by Janet Leigh
I made the introductions.
Eli smiled down at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet a family member of someone Jen is dating.” His voice was laced with a hint of sarcasm.
“My, my,” said Aunt Itty. “Aren’t you the handsome one.”
Genius. Nothing wins over my ex-jock brother like a little flattery. I didn’t know Aunt Itty was so full of guile.
He escorted Aunt Itty to the waiting room and set her up with a back issue of Good Housekeeping.
“OK, I’m ready for those patients,” I said, waiting for him in the hallway.
“They’re still in therapy. Let’s go into my office for a second.” He put an arm on my elbow and led me into his office. “Have a seat.” He pointed to one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. I sighed. Here it came, the interrogation.
“Soooo, who is this new guy you’ve been dating?” he asked, clicking his pen a few times. His blue eyes stared at me as if he had a window to my mind.
“He’s just a guy I met on Sweetie Swipe.”
“Sweetie Swipe.” Eli slammed his pen down on the desk. “Do you know how dangerous those app dating sites can be?”
“Gertie uses it all the time.” I shrugged. “He’s from Scotland but lives here now. And by the way, I’m too old for my big brother to be giving me the third degree about the men I choose to date.”
“Jen, you’re caring for his elderly aunt. I’m concerned.”
If Eli only knew the truth. That elderly aunt was my bodyguard. Jake had really put me in a tight spot. “She just wanted a day away from where she lives.”
“And where is that?” Eli asked.
I felt my hand grab a strand of hair, and I immediately dropped it. I wasn’t going to give in to my tell. As I was trying to think of something to say to Eli other than Wonderland, Paulina poked her head in to let Eli know the next patient was ready. I smiled at her, and Eli frowned at me.
“This isn’t over.” He stood. “I want to meet this new guy who lets you watch his aunt. Right now you can come help me with the last few patients.”
Chapter 22
I escaped from Eli before he could ask any more questions. I collected Aunt Itty, and we walked around the square to the restaurant. The smell of barbeque hung in the air, making my mouth water. The sign outside the door said it was the best in Texas, and I had to agree. Aunt Itty and I went through the line and chose chopped beef sandwiches, potato salad, a side of fried okra, and banana pudding. I was still starving from the travel. My stomach grumbled loudly as we found a table in the corner covered in a red-and-white checkered tablecloth. Aunt Itty admired the posters of the local high school teams and told me she needed a new pair of shitkicking boots.
Pictures of old Western movies hung on the walls, and between each booth was a set of hooks to hang coats. Aunt Itty and I took off our jackets and hung them on the hooks closest to our table. A drink station sat at the wall to my right. Aunt Itty pulled a packet of tea from her pocket, and I went to the drink station to fill a cup of hot water for her. As I was retrieving my sweet tea, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I looked around, and in the opposite corner of the room, stuffed into a booth, was Mr. Crane. His beady eyes were tracking me as I returned to my table. I gave him a finger wave because I thought it was polite to at least acknowledge the man. I mean he was a patient, after all. He frowned and continued to wolf down his lunch.
“Who is that extra-large man, dear?” Aunt Itty asked.
“He’s a patient at the clinic,” I said. Aunt Itty and I ate our lunch, and she agreed it was the best barbecue she had eaten. Although I doubt she had eaten much barbecue in her life. I pictured her more as a tea sandwich sort of gal. The restaurant was starting to fill up with lunch customers. The chatter of people at nearby tables and the country music piped into the room made me calm down. I couldn’t figure out why Mr. Crane made me feel so at odds, other than the fact that he was smelly and creepy. I was halfway through my meal when I saw him stand and reach for his jacket, which hung on the hook next to his table.
I almost choked on my sandwich as I watched Mr. Crane pull on his gray Members Only jacket. My heart started to race, and I realized Mr. Crane looked a lot like the Bus Stop Killer. Was that even possible? Surely the Bus Stop Killer was still in prison. I mean, he should be in for life, right?
I reached in my bag for my cell. My hands were shaking as I pulled out the phone.
“What is the matter, dear?” Aunt Itty asked, pausing the forkful of potato salad halfway to her mouth.
“I’m not sure. I need to call Jake.” As I fumbled with the buttons on my phone, Aunt Itty looked around the room in bodyguard mode.
Jake answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”
“How do you know something is wrong?” I asked, a little apprehensive.
“You’re with Aunt Itty. The possibilities are endless.”
“Well, that was your decision, right?” I was starting to get a little mad at his thinking Aunt Itty and I were troublemakers. Then again, we could probably give Lucille Ball and Ethel Mertz a run for their money.
“Jen.” He stopped me midcomplaint. “Why did you call?”
“Is the Bus Stop Killer still in prison?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. He got a reduced sentence because they couldn’t pin any of the other killings on him. And without the testimony of the male witness who captured him, he almost got off. Why?”
“I just saw a man who reminded me of the Bus Stop Killer.”
“In Texas?” Jake asked.
“In Coffee Creek. I have seen him for the past two months at the clinic. He is very creepy, and he was wearing the same jacket as the Bus Stop Killer.”
“Jen, maybe you’re having posttraumatic stress travel syndrome.”
“Jake. It was a gray Members Only jacket.”
“Yeah, and David Hasselhoff was wearing one in People magazine last week. Is he the Bus Stop Killer, too?
“OK. I get it. Maybe I’m a little paranoid, but this guy just gives me the creeps.”
“I’ll check it out and get back with you.” Jake sighed. “You and Aunt Itty stay away from him.”
“Thanks, Jake.” I ended the call and dropped the phone into my bag. I knew he was busy with all the research from the victims we saved when we had the Bus Stop Killer arrested. Lord knows what all the other travelers stirred up on their missions. Poor Jake. I don’t think this was what he had in mind when he joined the CIA. I think he was hoping for more Mission Impossible instead of Inspector Jacques Clouseau.
Itty was sipping her tea, looking at me suspiciously.
“It’s fine. That patient gives me the creeps, and I might have him mixed up with someone else.” I took a sip of my tea.
Itty looked at me over the top of her cheaters. “Never underestimate the power of a woman’s intuition.”
Great.
We finished our lunch, and the funky feeling I had washed away with my last sip of sweet tea. I had about thirty minutes before I had to be back at work, so I took Aunt Itty to Baubles and Beads, where I’d purchased the candlesticks for my mother. I found a cute pair of earrings that she insisted on buying for me. She chose a hand-painted china tea set that would look pretty sitting on her coffee table. Aunt Itty paid the cashier, and we headed to my car to store our items. I was trying to figure out a nice way to tell Aunt Itty she could go home. There was no reason for her to stay, and Eli was getting suspicious.
We made our way around the square. The traffic flow was light in the middle of the day. Eli’s side was mostly commercial businesses. There was a taxidermist and the new plastic surgery center scheduled to open next week. Aunt Itty and I were the lone souls walking down the sidewalk. Planters of flowers flanked iron park benches for the shoppers who would come on the weekends. During the week, this side of the square was barren of other peop
le. Occasionally someone would back a truck up to the taxidermist and then return a few days later to pick up a mount. I never saw anyone except Mr. Crane go in or out of the new surgery center. I knew his line of work was something in construction. Maybe he was helping with the renovation. Eli had us return from lunch thirty minutes before patients came in for their afternoon appointments. I looked at my watch. Damn, I was late. Oh well. I was sure Eli would understand because I had an aunt I was looking after. As we passed the new plastic surgery center, Aunt Itty stopped and looked in the window.
“I wouldn’t mind making a few wrinkles disappear.” She grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her skin taut. The wrinkles from chin to collarbone tightened, giving her turkey neck a more youthful appearance. “What do you think?” she asked me.
“I think you’re perfect as is,” I responded, peering into the window. My gut clenched, and my hands started to sweat. Mr. Crane was inside, staring out at us. Instant recognition crossed his face. Was it from his experience with me as a patient or as the girl who captured the Bus Stop Killer and then vanished? Jake was wrong. My gut told me this was the same man Marco and I had taken down in Hollywood. I grabbed Aunt Itty’s arm. “Let’s go.”
We rounded the corner to the quaint courtyard that cut through to the parking lot. More planters and benches were lined up on either side of the cobblestone walkway. We almost made it to the car when Mitchell Mafuso jumped out from the shadows.
“Hold it right there, ladies,” he said, pointing a gun at both of us.
“What are you going to do?” I asked Mitchell. “You can’t kill us.”
“I can make you wish you were dead,” he said. “You screwed up my plans. That was my key. I did the time. I stayed in the past. Do you have any idea how bad it hurts to stay through a moon cycle?” He waved the gun around, and I was afraid it might fire and kill one of us by accident. Mitchell wasn’t the smartest tool in the shed.
“Since I didn’t get that kid’s key, I’ll be taking yours in its place,” he said to me, and then he pointed the gun at Aunt Itty. “Hand it over, or I’ll put a bullet in the old lady’s knee. She’ll never walk again.”
“Old lady!” Aunt Itty harrumphed. “Well I never—”
“Shut up!” Mitchell yelled, grabbing Aunt Itty and leveling the gun at her knee. Aunt Itty dropped her package, and I could hear the china tea set shatter.
“You just broke my china!” Aunt Itty yelled.
Mitchell cocked the pistol.
“OK, OK!” I said, holding a hand out to halt Mitchell. “Just let me set my bag down, and I’ll give you my key.” Mitchell was obviously suffering from some kind of posttraumatic travel stress. Sweat was pouring down the sides of his face, and he had an odd green tint to his skin. I turned and set my package down on the ground, trying to figure out some way to get the gun from him. When I turned around, I saw one of my heavy silver candlesticks dancing above Mitchell’s head. I cut my eyes toward Aunt Itty. She had one hand on her key, and the other hand was directing the candlestick like a conductor directing the symphony orchestra. Mitchell still had a hold of Aunt Itty, gun pointing at her kneecap, but he was watching me.
Aunt Itty threw her head back and shouted, “Hibbidi bibbity boo!” The candlestick fell, clocking Mitchell on the head and sending him down for the count.
I was about to run and hug Aunt Itty when I felt a sharp pain in my head, and then my world went black.
When I woke, I was lying spread-eagle in a hospital bed, wearing nothing except my red Victoria’s Secret bra and matching lacy racer panties. My hands and feet were tied to the bed with surgical restraints, and my mouth was taped shut with duct tape. The room was dark, but I could make out the contents of the shelves in front of me. My head was thumping, and I tried to recall what had happened. There was no sign of Aunt Itty. My eyes focused on the boxes in front of me. One read “Surgical Tape” on the side. If I guessed right, I was probably in the surgery center. My blue scrubs lay in a heap on the floor with my shoes. My key was still secured around my neck. Thank God. If Mitchell snagged my key, Jake would never let me hear the end of it, and my days of being Caiyan’s transporter would possibly be over.
I heard a noise, and the light was flipped on in the room. Mr. Crane walked in and glared at me.
“You!” He pointed a stubby finger at me. “I was in jail for twenty-five years because of you, bitch.”
He came closer, his stench creeping around the room in an invisible fog. He picked up a knife off the stainless steel tray at my bedside table. “I’m going to show you what should have happened that night in LA.” He ran the knife down the side of my temple, and I squirmed, pulling my head away from him. “You look exactly the same as you did before. Just as slutty as when you had on the red raincoat.” He eyed my red panties, and my heart was beating wildly in my chest.
“I don’t know how you were able to switch places with that other slut back in 1985,” he said. “I figured you must have had some outstanding warrants for prostitution.” He sneered and ran the knife around the leg of my panties.
Prostitution? You dumb jerk. I shuddered, and he moved his girth closer to me on the table.
“Last night it finally hit me where I had seen you before. I remembered, it was you at the bus stop in L.A. Now, I am going I was going to make you and your little friends pay for what you did to me.”
I watched him leer at my breasts, and I cursed myself for wearing the bra with the super-push-up enhancement. I tried to talk, but the tape prevented my words from forming.
“Don’t worry. I have that old lady and the kid in safekeeping.” His watch let out a ding. He smiled his evil Grinch smile. “You will have to wait until later. I have a date with a redhead.”
A date with a redhead? Gertie. He had set up the Sweetie Swipe and posted a fake picture to get to Gertie. How was I going to get out of here? He pulled a small bottle off the shelf and inserted a syringe into it, filling the syringe with the liquid. He moved toward me.
“Just a little something to keep you still while I’m gone.” He jabbed the needle into my thigh, and I screeched out in pain. He leaned in and whispered into my ear: “And when I’m done with all of you, I’m going to track down that blond asshole and gut him.” He turned and shut the light out as he went out the door. My head started to swim, and I felt fuzzy all over. I prayed Aunt Itty and Mitchell were not hurt. Maybe Gertie wouldn’t show for her date. Who was I kidding? She would be there to meet board shorts boy only to be abducted by creepy Mr. Crane. I needed help. He was going to kill us and then go after Marco. I started to drift off into the land of make-believe, dreaming of Marco getting a knife in the back by Crane. Then my dream changed to Caiyan’s strong arms wrapping around me and his three magic words echoing in the caverns of my heart.
Chapter 23
I felt a light shine into my eyes, and I blinked them open. My head and body felt heavy, like the morning after a really good frat party. I felt a release on my limbs, and I was being lifted off my bed. I raised my head and looked up at Caiyan.
“Are ye all right, lass?”
“How did you find me?” I slurred out.
“Ye summoned me,” he said.
“I did?” I asked in surprise. Normally the defender is the one who can summon the transporter, not the other way around.
“Aye.” He placed me gently on the side of the bed.
“We have to find Aunt Itty and help Gertie.” As I said the words, Ace came from down a hallway with Aunt Itty. Aunt Itty was rubbing her head. No doubt she had been treated to the same cocktail as me.
“Oh good, love. So glad you’re OK,” Ace said to me. “Nice VS. Is that the new line?”
I looked down and realized I was only wearing my bra and panties. I covered myself with my arms.
A small smile threatened at the corners of Caiyan’s mouth. “When I first arrived, I thought ye were givi
ng me some kind of present.”
I scowled at him.
“Then I realized ye were unconscious,” Caiyan said.
“Where’s Mitchell?” I asked, rolling my eyes at Caiyan’s idea of a present.
“He’s still tied up in the storage room, snoozing like a baby,” Ace said.
“That knot I gave him combined with that sedative the fat man gave us will probably keep him out for a good while,” Aunt Itty said.
“We have to help Gertie,” I said, and then I explained to Caiyan about Mr. Crane, aka the Bus Stop Killer, and how he was going to get Gertie at the Muddled Duck.
“He’s going to be returning here?” Caiyan asked.
I nodded. “To finish with me.”
Caiyan thought about this for a moment. “Well, let’s get you tied back up, then.”
“What?” I asked, my voice escalating.
“We wouldn’t want to disappoint our mark, now would we?” Caiyan asked.
Ace smiled, as if they had some secret mind connection. Aunt Itty and I just looked at each other in confusion.
“Ace, go follow him from the meeting place with Gertie. Make sure he grabs her and brings her back here.”
“Sure thing.” Ace left out the back door, and a few seconds later there was a flash of lightning through the plate glass windows.
“I bet my brother was concerned I didn’t come back from lunch,” I told Caiyan.
“When ye summoned me, I landed in the parking lot.” He ran a hand through his hair, and I felt a tingle between my legs. “It’s a wonder no one saw me. But I put two and two together that this was big brother’s office.”
“You did?” I asked.
“Aye, and when I went inside to inquire aboot ye, he told me ye had left him a note on his car that ye were taking Aunt Itty home after lunch.”
“I didn’t write a note.”
“I figured as much, but I told him we must have had a miscommunication because I thought I was supposed to pick her up.”
