Time Lost

by C. B. Lewis

  For the first time since Sanders had disappeared, he was left without anyone bothering him.

  People were already twitchy about the thought of a time-traveling kidnapper. With Jacob in the building, people were even more on edge and staying where they were meant to be, which was fine by Kit. He only took a break to go up to the canteen, and even that was only as long as it took him to gulp down a bowl of pasta.

  He returned to the engineering bay with the latest readings from the gate and sat back at his workbench. A touch to the console projected the schematics of the gate lock above the tabletop. Kit studied it for a moment, then imported in the new data, moving parts and adjusting the projection to fit it all together.

  “How’s it coming?”

  Kit didn’t even glance at Hamid. “Technically, the pieces should all fit, but I need to make them work together.” He rubbed at one eye with his knuckle. “If all goes to plan, we won’t have to redesign the frame.”

  Hamid clasped his shoulders. “Sanders would be pleased.”

  Would be.

  Well, if that wasn’t a morbid outlook….

  “He’s not dead yet.” Kit turned the projection with a gesture, leaning closer to examine some of the connections. “Mariam wouldn’t be pleased to hear you say that.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Kit nodded.

  The gate needed to be secure. They had been working on it for years before he came along, and Tom would be pleased about it. He still could be, when he got back from wherever it was he was hiding. Or captive. Or both.

  Kit put in his earbuds and continued to work on the lock until the rest of the team started packing up and drifting toward the door.

  He only set down his tools when his quill chimed, interrupting his music. A new message.

  It wasn’t a surprise that it came from Jacob.

  Running late. Should be there by half past.

  Kit glanced at his watch and swore under his breath. Almost eight already.

  He was out of the office ten minutes later, sprinting for the trams. He barely made it by the skin of his teeth, and he collapsed, panting, onto one of the seats. It was late, and he hadn’t promised any kind of hospitality, but he was bloody starving. He tapped into his list of favorite takeaways, picking one at random. His regular order was placed before he even reached his apartment building.

  The lobby was deserted, and he swore under his breath, running for the stairs.

  It was fine at work, where he had fiddled with the cables and wires that supported the lift until he could almost believe they were stable, but here? He’d asked the building managers if it were possible to access the lift shaft. He had been refused more than once, despite showing his credentials. As far as he knew, the support lines could be tied together with string. Unlikely, but it was why he was puffing and out of breath when he reached his floor.

  He swiped through the security and staggered in, tossing his satchel into the bedroom and closing the door. No one would be going in there for the rest of the night. A glance around the living room assured him it was respectable, with no more incriminating evidence left lying around.

  And despite the fact that he was still annoyed with Jacob, he hurried into the bathroom and dragged a comb through his hair. It was one thing to be annoyed with the man. It was another to look like he’d slept with his head in a bucket.

  The door chimed less than five minutes later, and he checked the security screen.

  Good timing on both parts.

  Jacob was standing there, along with the delivery boy.

  Kit buzzed them through the main doors of the building and tapped in the code to allow them access to the lift. Another quick glance around the room reassured him that he looked like a nerd, but not like a criminal nerd.

  When he opened the door, he ignored Jacob to tip the delivery boy and take his food, then motioned for the other man to come in.

  Jacob remained by the door as it slid closed. Kit knew Jacob was watching him, but he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of letting him see how terrified he was. “There’s a hook by the door for your coat,” he called over his shoulder. “Shoes off too.”

  By the time he emerged from the kitchen with a pile of rice and curry in a bowl, Jacob was standing by the sofa. One hand was resting on the back, as if he were hesitant about sitting down. He seemed knackered as well, like he hadn’t slept.

  Kit sat cross-legged at one end and looked up at the man. He wasn’t going to ask what was bothering him. He wasn’t going to get invested or give a damn. He was going to be like every cool, collected character he had ever seen in a film, even if he felt anything but.

  “You said we needed to talk,” he said, gesturing to the other end of the sofa with his fork. “So talk.”

  Jacob sat down. He tapped his fingertips together and frowned at them. “I know you saw something in that footage that you recognized.”

  Suddenly, Kit was grateful he’d picked a curry. The spices always made his face flush anyway. He tried to remember what Janos had said to him that morning, tried to find a small truth that would detract Jacob from the big one.

  He remembered the last time they’d sat on this sofa, and Jacob had seen the gate fragment, and he knew at once how he could skirt the topic. “You’ve got a bit of one of them in the evidence bags at the station,” he said, and it came so smoothly and so easily, because it was nothing but the truth.

  Jacob looked at him. “And you had a piece of one here.”

  There was no reason to deny it, even if his cheeks were turning red. “Only a prototype.”

  “What kind of prototype?” Jacob’s voice was casual and curious, but there was a tension in his shoulders that said he needed to know if his idea was right.

  Kit chewed on a mouthful of lamb, gazing at him. He remembered the spiel Sanders had given him when he first joined the TRI. “Tom experimented on teleporting years back,” he said. Not a lie, but not the whole truth. “If the gate in the video did what it seemed to, maybe someone managed. Maybe they took Sanders’s old ideas.”

  “Maybe,” Jacob agreed neutrally. “And why do you have parts of one?”

  Kit stirred up some of the rice. “Tom knew I like building stuff.” It wasn’t difficult to remember his early days in Tom’s company, and how mesmerized he’d been by the older man’s intelligence and ideas. It was rare to meet someone so innovative. “I was curious, and he let me see some of his designs. I wanted to see if I could make one that worked.” He didn’t have to pretend to look flustered. “You know I’m not meant to do it. If Sanders knew, he’d give me such a bollocksing.”

  Jacob nodded. “Do you know if he ever built one that worked?”

  Kit scooped up another forkful of rice and took a moment to chew and swallow. “A teleporter?” He knew his face had to be pink. His eyes were watering too. “Not that I know of. There were too many problems. Physics didn’t like it. Can’t have two parts of one person on two parts of the world at the same time. And don’t even start on what happened to fillings….”

  Jacob subsided back against the back of the couch. He looked more at ease, but that didn’t mean anything. He laced his hands together over his middle and looked at Kit thoughtfully. “Have you ever been to Sanders’s house?”

  Kit choked on a mouthful of rice. “Me? Go to his house?” He shook his head. “I wish.” He sighed wistfully. “I always thought he’d have all kinds of clever stuff there, but I don’t think he let many people from work visit him at home. Keeping his work and home life separate or something.”

  Jacob tilted his head back to rest on the back of the sofa and gazed up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry.”

  Kit blinked at him. “Come again?”

  Jacob turned his head to look at him. “This thing we had.” He pushed himself back up, folding his hands together. “I’m sorry. I buggered up. Shouldn’t have got involved, not when the case was still ongoing. I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

  Kit
looked down at his food, prodding at it. “I was pretty much going to be involved anyway.” He glanced up over the bowl, and for once, mouth and brain were in full agreement about the next course of action. “You want some curry?”

  One side of Jacob’s mouth twitched. “You sure you don’t want to kick me out, now I’ve said my piece?”

  Kit made a face at him. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to stick around. You might be a grumpy old bastard, but you warned me about that when we went to the pub.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “There’s a few boxes of stuff on the counter. I always order too much.”

  Two minutes later, Jacob was working his way through a well-filled bowl of korma. He made a sound of appreciation as he ate. “Didn’t have time to get something before I came over,” he admitted. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Mm.” Kit watched him, wondering just how much Jacob would be willing to give away now that they were actually talking. It helped that he’d answered questions, and had been almost completely honest. The terror of being caught out in a lie wasn’t knotting up around his middle this time. “Mariam mentioned you were coming into the office.”

  There was a fleeting flicker of wariness. “She did?”

  Not 100 percent, then. The man was still on his guard.

  “Mm.” Kit used a piece of naan to mop up some of the sauce. “Something about asking a few questions.” He met Jacob’s eyes. “You get the answers you were looking for?”

  “I made a start,” Jacob said evasively. He gave Kit an apologetic look. “I really shouldn’t discuss the case with you.”

  “Unless you’re interrogating me,” Kit pointed out.

  Jacob snorted. “If you thought that was an interrogation, you don’t want to have a real one.”

  Kit leaned back against the arm of the couch. “Would you go all bad-cop on me? Threaten to put me in jail?”

  Jacob’s expression was deadly serious. “I would do my job.”

  “Does that ‘job’ include the word ‘blow’?” Kit asked, widening his eyes.

  For a moment, Jacob looked torn between annoyance and amusement. He settled for sighing. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I’m noticing a lot of things we shouldn’t have done.” Kit leaned sideways to set his bowl on the table. He settled back on the couch and looked at Jacob. “You wanted to do it as much as I did. Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t enjoy knowing we were doing it right under their noses. Just like when we did it on the balcony here.”

  When Jacob looked at him, the heat in his eyes made Kit’s heart skip a beat.

  “You know I wanted to,” he growled, his voice that deep rumble that seemed to come from the middle of his chest. “Don’t push me, Kit.”

  Kit felt that pleasant shiver curling down his spine. He took a sharp breath, and he knew Jacob noticed it.

  Jacob stared at him for a moment too long, then set down his bowl and rose. “I’m not doing this again.”

  Kit raised one arm to rest on the back of the couch. “You enjoy being a celibate monk?”

  “Don’t,” Jacob growled.

  That really wasn’t the right way to shut Kit up.

  “What? It’s true. You’re so up for it I could hang a flag on your cock, but you’re saying you’re not. We already set the bridges on fire. What’s the point of trying to pretend they’re not burning? We started. We might as well keep going.”

  Jacob snatched his coat from the hook by the door. “No, we shouldn’t. We should never have started this. I should have controlled myself.” He pulled on his coat and shook his head. “I’m a bloody idiot.”

  Kit vaulted over the back of the couch. “You needed a shag.”

  Jacob’s eyes blazed. “I need to concentrate on my job.”

  Kit glanced down at the front of his trousers. “Well, I see a part of you that disagrees.”

  “I’m a grown man,” Jacob snapped. “Not a randy teenager. I have some self-restraint.”

  Christ, he was gorgeous when he was furious, eyes flashing and teeth bared. Kit felt like a moth drifting closer to a candle flame.

  “Course you do,” he said, his heart pounding as he moved closer, close enough to press a hand to Jacob’s chest. “Makes sense, though. Hormones and things. Some men your age like to ride a big red car.” His whole body was tingling with anticipation, wondering just how far he could push the man. “You just want to ride a redhead.”

  Jacob grabbed his wrist in a viselike grip. “You’d do well to shut up.”

  “Yeah?” Kit leaned closer, grinning. “Make me.”

  He was spun around and pinned up against the door, Jacob’s face close to his. It almost hurt, but he didn’t care, curling his fingers into Jacob’s jacket and jerking him off-balance, closer, and crushing their mouths together again.

  Jacob groaned into the kiss, but he didn’t pull back. He was the one to open his mouth, kissing Kit with a ferocity that stole his breath away.

  Kit was panting when they broke apart. “There you are.”

  Jacob stared at him. “You’d take it, wouldn’t you? Even if you were nothing more than a midlife crisis fling?”

  Kit slid two fingers between the buttons of Jacob’s shirt, tracing them against the warm skin beneath. He could feel Jacob’s heart thumping. “I’d take a doing from you any which way I could get it.”

  Jacob braced his hand against the door behind Kit and raised his eyes to the ceiling. He looked like he was trying to steel himself. When he looked back at Kit, the anger and the heat had gone. He looked tired. “I can’t do this, Kit. I can’t. If it was a different time, if we weren’t caught up in this bloody case, if it wasn’t complicated….” He stepped back. “I thought I could do one night. I can’t. And I can’t ask more of you now.”

  Kit stayed where he was, leaning against the door. It wasn’t that easy to just step back and walk away. “You want to,” he said stubbornly.

  Jacob’s hands were shivering as he tried to do up his coat. “I do, and it’s a fucking mess. We’d be bad for each other.”

  Kit pushed off from the door and reached for Jacob’s coat, doing it up. “Not necessarily.”

  Jacob looked at him. “Then be honest with me, just for once.” His voice was quiet. Resigned. “Did you mess with the video?”

  Kit’s mouth went dry. He had to concentrate on doing up Jacob’s coat. “Why would you think that?”

  “No more bullshit, Kit.”

  Kit forced himself to meet Jacob’s eyes. He’d lied before. It should be easy to lie again. All he had to do was say no.

  The word felt like it was sticking in his throat.

  Jacob smiled, brief and sad. “Well, no answer is better than a lie, I s’pose.” He lifted his hand and brushed Kit’s hair back from his brow. “I know you’ve got secrets you need to keep for that bloody agency, and I won’t ask you to break a confidence, but I’m going to go back to that video. You can warn them if you like, but I’ll have to do it.”

  Kit had to look away, feeling sick to the stomach. It would have been better if the floor opened up and swallowed him.

  Jacob gently pushed him aside and opened the door.

  “Jacob.” Kit wondered if his voice sounded as reedy and shaken to Jacob as it did to him.

  The man didn’t turn. “Yeah?”

  “I had to. I’m sorry, but I had to.”

  Jacob nodded. “Yeah. I figured that much.”

  When the door slid closed behind him, Kit sank down to sit on the floor, staring at it. Jacob knew, had suspected the whole time. If he got the video cleared up, he would know everything, and it was all because Kit was a bloody tit who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. If he’d left Jacob well enough alone, he would never have seen the eye, and they would never have found the video. He pressed his hands to his mouth, trying to fight the rising nausea.

  “Shit,” he whispered.

  Chapter 21

  THERE WAS a folder of paperwork sitting on Jacob’s desk when he arrive
d the next morning.

  A glance showed Janos Nagy’s formal papers.

  They were a secondary concern.

  The previous day, when he’d left the TRI offices, Jacob had taken a team back to the Sanders house. They scanned every wall of the crime scene. It had taken close to two hours before a door was identified—the security latch hidden on the bloodied shelf—and opened.

  Sanders did have a safe room.

  His laboratory on the ground floor was a front. The real laboratory was hidden below the house. The three rooms were filled with the kind of things Jacob had only seen in the TRI engineering bays. There were workbenches lining the walls. There were tools everywhere, and several computers.

  There was also another of those damned doorways.

  More significantly, there were also the signs of a struggle.

  Sanders had reached his safe room, but he hadn’t been alone.

  From the look of it, Sanders was trying to reach his experimental teleportation gate. There was blood smeared on the floor, scrabbling handprints, as if he had fallen and been dragged back. The CSU team had found a fainter print, possibly the last one, on the edge of the doorway.

  Maybe the doorway had worked, but Jacob wasn’t inclined to believe it.

  The gateway mechanism was connected by wires to a mess of computers, and the machines had been smashed. The questions of the day were to find out whether Sanders had built a functioning teleporter, and whether he’d managed to make his escape through it.

  By the time Jacob left, at close to 7:00 p.m., the CSU team was still going over the room. There were three sets of fingerprints in the room. One set were Sanders’s, and the child’s set had to be Ben’s. The last set belonged to the woman he was waiting to see.

  He went through to the incident room. “Is Mrs. Ashraf here yet?”

  Temple shook her head. She was transferring new information from CSU onto the incident panels, with new crime scene images. “It’s not nine yet, sir. They’ll call up when she arrives.”