by C. B. Lewis
It had to be yet.
With a case as convoluted as it was, there was no chance he would be able to keep the secret indefinitely.
If the DNA checks confirmed that Baby Robertson was their John Smith again, if their missing woman was found and questioned, if Sanders’s computer records were decoded, if any number of events happened, the TRI would have to be opened up to the public scrutiny, and when that happened, there could be no hiding any of their secrets anymore.
Kit nestled back against him. “That’s all I need to know for now.” He squeezed Jacob’s wrist lightly. “You think you could sleep if I shut the curtain?”
“Could you?”
Kit shrugged. “I’m tired. We can live in hope.”
Jacob stroked Kit’s belly. “We can try, then.” He kissed Kit’s cheek lightly. “Curtain us.”
He felt Kit’s smile, and a sweeping gesture from Kit’s hand sent the curtain skimming across in front of the broad windows. For a moment, it seemed like the room had been plunged into complete darkness, but little by little, his eyes adjusted.
“Better?”
Jacob nodded, laying his head back down on the pillow. “Better.”
He might have slept. Kit certainly did, limp with fatigue in Jacob’s embrace. He was asleep when Jacob drifted, and still that way when Jacob came back to full awareness, his mind muzzy.
Jacob squinted at the clock on the bedside cabinet. Seven. As bloody usual.
He eased himself off the bed as carefully as he could, trying not to disturb Kit. The younger man had looked worn out the night before, and if his eyes were any indication, he had been coding extensively. Jacob remembered that he’d said it led to headaches.
Better to let him rest, while he got ready to head to work.
Jacob was dressed and in the kitchen, scrambling up a pan of eggs, when he heard the shuffle of bare feet coming toward the door.
Kit appeared in the doorway, rubbing one eye with a fist. He was in an oversized, patched dressing gown, and his hair—always unruly—was even wilder than ever. “You stayed for breakfast?” He sounded pleased.
“I think we’re both going to need it,” Jacob admitted, stirring the eggs. “You’re okay with scrambled eggs with cheese?”
Kit padded over and slipped an arm around his waist. “I’m okay with anything.” He propped his chin on Jacob’s shoulder, nuzzling against his neck drowsily. “I like it when you make food. Means I don’t have to.”
“Lazy bugger.” Jacob couldn’t help smiling. “Can you get the toast? Or is that too much like hard work?”
Kit grumbled amiably and padded over to the toaster. As he stacked the pieces of toast carefully onto a plate, Jacob watched him from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t put his finger on what had changed between them, but something had. A tension that had been there every time their paths crossed was gone.
Maybe it was the fact that he knew Kit’s secret now, and they didn’t have to circle around each other, avoiding it and trying to hide it. Kit always seemed like an open, honest kind of person. It must have been tearing him up, concealing anything.
Kit hardly said anything beyond sleepy mumbles until he’d scarfed down half of his food and drained a mug of coffee. “D’you get any more sleep?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” Jacob admitted as he skewered a piece of toast and stacked some more eggs on top of it. “You?”
“Enough.” Kit shifted closer on the couch, until his knee knocked against Jacob’s. “Is it daft that I’m glad you stayed?”
Jacob glanced at him. “Yeah?”
Kit nodded. “I mean, I know when people find out what we’ve been doing, we’re going to be up shit creek without a paddle, but I… it’s better. I mean, now that you know stuff.” He smiled tentatively. “Y’know what I mean?”
Jacob set his plate on his lap and gave Kit’s knee a squeeze. “I do.”
Kit returned his attention to his plate. “So what do we do?”
“We get on with things and hope my bosses don’t find out about us.” Jacob cast an apologetic look at Kit. “It’s a massive breach of protocol. I don’t know how far they could take it. If I’m lucky, they’ll let me keep my badge.”
He didn’t want to imagine it going all the way. The idea of being stripped of his rank, and maybe even of his job and badge, was something he didn’t want to think about. He’d known it was a possibility all the time, the ticking time bomb that was still hanging over him, and yet, for a smile like sunshine and a man who could make him laugh, he’d put it aside.
Maybe it was because he’d lost that chance before, out of his own stupidity.
Maybe it was just because he was lonely.
Kit gazed at him. “You could be in real trouble? And you kept coming back? No offense, but are you stupid? I’m not worth that.”
Jacob looked down at his plate. “I think I’d have to disagree with you there.”
Kit was silent, and then his plate clattered as he set it aside. He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to Jacob’s cheek. “You,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “are a very silly old man.” He laid his cheek on Jacob’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Jacob prodded the last of his eggs around his plate. “You want these?”
He felt Kit’s smile through the sleeve of his shirt. “All right.” He nuzzled Jacob’s shoulder. “Daft old fart.”
Chapter 34
IT WAS a gray day.
Kit watched the world shuttling by from the window of the tram.
The last fortnight had been very odd already, but this morning was something special. When it all started, he hadn’t expected more than one night of eager, hasty shagging. When it had turned into something else, it was a pleasant surprise.
Somehow, he’d never really considered how seriously it could affect Jacob’s position. Part of him had assumed Jacob was sensible enough not to take anything too far, or do anything that would really get himself in trouble. After all, he was a copper and a good one. Kit had assumed Jacob had always told him not to bring up the police thing to keep work and sex separate.
Turned out he was very wrong about that.
Kit tore his attention from the window and looked down at the quill in his hand.
He had tried hunting down the disciplinary procedures for the police force, but there weren’t any specific details about punishments. It varied on a case-by-case basis, depending on how close the police officer was treading to misconduct.
Shagging someone involved in the case, however, was marked down as very problematic.
He slid his quill into his jacket pocket and pushed himself upright as the tram came into his stop. He hadn’t gone in expecting anything out of a fling with a bloody gorgeous older man, but he’d got it all the same, and he wasn’t sure what he was meant to do with it.
The thing was….
Well, the thing was he’d avoided having anything more than casual flings because of the TRI. It was bloody difficult to try and keep a secret when you were in a relationship, especially when it was about the place you worked five days a week.
He’d never considered what would happen if he ended up banging someone who knew the TRI’s biggest secret. Admittedly, that was mostly because the rest of the TRI staff were generally too hetero, too taken, too female, too boring, or about as attractive as the back end of a bus. He’d never even considered the possibility of an outsider knowing.
That meant his biggest concern wasn’t even relevant anymore.
Three years of brief flings and one-night stands, and now this?
He frowned as he made his way up the steps toward the building. It wasn’t what he should be worrying about, he knew. There were bigger things going on. The TRI’s secret wasn’t going to be secret much longer. He knew he should be worrying about that, but his brain kept on veering back to the potential relationship, which felt so much more significant.
A couple of the agents were waiting for the lift when he entered, so he ran to join them, settling in his u
sual corner. He knew he would be expected in engineering, but Mariam needed to be warned about what was coming.
To his surprise, when he stepped out of the lift, she was standing there, waiting for him.
“Kit.”
He gave her a cautious nod. “Mariam.”
She waited until the lift doors closed and they were alone. “I wanted to apologize,” she said quietly. “What I said the other day was out of line, and I’m sorry. I didn’t really think you told DI Ofori anything. You’ve been much more discreet than some of our agents.”
Kit looked self-consciously down at his satchel. “Yeah. About that.” He hesitated, looking back up at her. “He knows.”
Mariam’s face went waxy and unreadable. “Knows what, exactly?”
Kit licked his lips nervously. “Is Janos about? He’ll help me explain.”
Despite Janos’s best intentions, he was indeed in the building, and he didn’t look happy about it. He was sitting in Mariam’s office when Mariam led Kit in, and started to rise. “I told you I am in hurry. Why you are….” He stopped short at the sight of Kit. “Ah. Something tells me this is not a good time to be in here.”
Mariam locked the door behind them. “Explain.”
Kit didn’t look at her. He looked at the man who had more to lose. “DI Ofori knows.”
Janos stared at him and slowly sank back down into his seat.
“Knows what?” Mariam demanded again.
“What we do here,” Janos said. He was pale and looked over at her. “He was here with demands yesterday. We have to tell him something. So we tell him what Tom was doing: trying to go forward.” He shook his head. “He is very clever man. He listens too well.”
“He worked it out himself,” Kit added quietly. “I don’t know how.”
Mariam reached out to steady herself on the desk. “He knows about the time travel?”
Kit nodded. His mouth felt dry. “He said he won’t tell right away, but this isn’t a secret he can keep. He’s going to come here this afternoon. He wants to talk to you.” He looked at Janos. “I think you should talk to him. I think you need to.”
“We need to convince him that he got it wrong,” Mariam began.
“No.”
“Kit, you know why Sanders never went public with time travel,” she protested. “It needs to be regulated. It needs to be controlled. The fewer people who know about it and use it, the better.”
He looked at her in disbelief. “Tell that to the people who attacked Tom. He knew this day was coming. Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it.” He nodded to Janos. “I know he has, and Dieter.” He snorted. “You just don’t want it to be on your watch.”
Mariam sat down stiffly. “I’ve been working with Tom on this project since he lost Olivia,” she said, her voice low. “The only reason he kept the TRI going was so he could try and find her. He never wanted it to go public.”
“Olivia?” Kit looked between them.
“His wife,” Mariam replied.
Kit felt like his world was slipping under his feet. “You’re telling us losing his wife was….” He felt sick. “Jesus Christ. He used his wife as a guinea pig?”
“She was never a guinea pig,” Mariam said sharply. “They worked together. She chose to take the risk.”
“Oh, that just makes it so much better.” Kit was shaking with anger. He’d worked with Sanders, one-to-one, for days, weeks, months, and he’d had no bloody clue about what had happened to the late Mrs. Sanders. Jesus Christ. So much for mutual respect and trust. “Loses his wife with his invention and then uses hundreds of people to get him money so he can find her and apologize.”
“How else was he supposed to afford to keep looking?” Her voice was rising in anger. “He failed at teleportation. This was the only thing he had. Do you think he should have just left her? Or just sold the rights to anyone? Do you think he should—”
Janos’s false hand slammed down on the table like a pistol crack, making them both jump.
He was breathing hard, and his eyes were fixed on the ring on his right hand. He curled his fingers into a fist. “We are not going to fight,” he snarled. “Maybe Sanders did not want public access, but he is dead. We are the ones left with this mess. We must make as much damage control as we can.” He looked from one to the other. “You are understanding me?”
Kit nodded. He assumed Mariam did the same.
“So….” Mariam tapped her fingertips on the desk. “Janos, this is your life. What do you want to do with it?”
Janos was using his thumb to slowly turn the ring on his finger. He looked up at Kit. “He is giving us time to be honest. This is more than he should do.”
Kit nodded. “I think we need to tell him everything, except where you came from.” He sat down in the empty chair by the desk. “We can cover that, but he’s figured out so much without any help from us. If we hold back, he’ll come in all guns blazing. They need answers, and if he has to, he’ll come in and take them.” He glanced at Mariam. “He knows we’ve been screwing him around enough. We try and hide anything big now, and that’s it: the straw that breaks the camel’s back. We don’t want him as an enemy. He will tear this place down, if we lie to him again.”
“He is a clever man,” Janos acknowledged. He lifted his right hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles. He was silent for a moment, then lowered his hand. “We do not lie to him. Not at all. I will call Dieter. We will tell this policeman the truth.”
“But Jan—” Mariam began.
“No,” he interrupted. “No. This policeman, he is very clever. If we try to hide anything, he will know. He already sees that my papers were wrong. If he knows about TRI secrets, he will start to wonder if maybe papers are wrong for a reason. We need to tell him. Better to be on the good side than on the bad side.”
“He’s not a bad person, Mariam,” Kit said quietly. “He knows this is something big. He knows it’s going to change everything. He’s giving us a chance to do it on our terms, instead of dragging us into the spotlight, kicking and screaming.”
Mariam removed her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. “Kit, you may be biased.”
“Janos met him too,” Kit replied, pushing down the annoyance at her words. Did she really just think he was incapable of thinking when his knob was involved? Okay, maybe it was a little true, but she didn’t have to keep bringing it up.
“He is decent man,” Janos confirmed. “He has been generous until now. We have done nothing to deserve generosity. You know he was good with Ben. That is not something you can pretend.”
Mariam nodded reluctantly. “I just….” She sighed. “Tom set this place up. It’s… I just can’t wrap my head around breaking the biggest rule we had.” She ran a hand over her face. “We really don’t have any choice anymore, do we?”
“Not if he’s on the case,” Kit murmured. “Janos has it right about him. He’s like a dog with a bone. If he spots something is off, he’ll keep on coming back to it until he figures it out. That’s how he must have found out about Tom’s basement. That’s probably why he kept it a closed scene as long as he did. He pays a hell of a lot of attention, even if you don’t think there’s anything to see.”
Mariam leaned back in her seat. “I suppose it’s all down to how we do this, then.” She looked at Janos. “You’re sure you want to tell him everything?”
Janos nodded. He suddenly looked much older, and so pale. “I will call Dieter. We have spoken of this before. He will not be surprised.” He rose from the chair. “I will go up to roof now. I would like some air.”
Kit rose too. “D’you….” He hesitated. “Is there anything I can do? Do you want company?”
Janos shook his head. He didn’t even try to speak. When he walked toward the door, he was rigid. Like a soldier, Kit thought. A soldier about to go into battle, and knowing he was likely to lose his life.
“What will they do with him?” Kit asked when the door closed.
Mariam shook her hea
d. “Who knows?” She reached for her slate, and Kit could see her hand was trembling. “At least it can’t be as bad as the life he left behind. If he’s very lucky, he might only be locked up.”
That, Kit thought bleakly, wasn’t much of a comfort.
Chapter 35
JACOB’S HEAD was buzzing.
The meeting with DCI Crawford had gone as well as expected. Or as badly.
Thankfully, Jacob had come into a lead on the potential witness—or suspect—and that was enough to keep Crawford from tearing him a new one for the lack of progress. Like Temple, Crawford wanted to push harder at the TRI, and Jacob was grateful that he had already made plans to go over there.
He returned to his office, slumping down into his seat for five minutes’ respite.
There was already a mug of coffee waiting.
No doubt the team had suspected how well it was going to go.
He pulled the mug toward him and retrieved his slate. He’d barely had a chance to skim over the details of the newest lead before he was called into Crawford’s office.
Their missing woman had been sighted in the city, which was good. That meant she would start showing up on CCTV. Anton was already working on that angle. Foley and Singh had been dispatched to take statements from eyewitnesses.
Temple had taken charge of the other calls, the ones that were the most significant. She had already scheduled a meeting with a Patrick Harper, the most promising of the callers. He was a businessman in the city, and claimed the woman had been in his offices.
That was the real reason for the coffee: the meeting was in half an hour, and he needed to be sharp to catch any little detail that Harper might give them. He picked up the mug, gulping down the coffee, and read through the information they had on Harper.
As far as the records showed, he was a shipping magnate who had made his fortune in transporting goods internationally. He had started young, and now, in his early forties, he was considered one of the key players in the shipping industry. He wasn’t exactly the kind of man who would be interested in historical research or time travel.
