10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by P. L. Parker, Beth Trissel, L. L. Muir, Skhye Moncrief, Sky Purington, Nancy Lee Badger, Caroline Clemmons, Bess McBride, Donna Michaels

  Her lake-colored eyes shone fear at him but she sat up straight. “You’re sending me away or taking me to jail?”

  He shook his head and fished out the envelope. “I promised I wouldn’t, and“—he looked at his mom and then back at Deirdre—“I keep my word.” He exhaled. “This isn’t easy to explain, but I, um, borrowed something of yours.”

  When he opened the flap and spilled the coins into his hand, she looked shocked.

  “Me,” she looked at Blossom, “Your ma is teaching me to speak correctly. I mean my coins. You have my coins.”

  “Only part of them. I know I shouldn’t have snooped, but I did. I took one of each to Radford Crossing. There’s a man there who deals in old coins.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “To see if they were real, I guess.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Of course they’re real.” She picked up the most valuable one. “Didn’t me, um, my own grandmother tell me this one was from her grandmother’s dowry?”

  “You’ll be happy to know that’s worth a lot of money.”

  “This wee thing? Why it’s only a ha’penny, but it’s one I treasure for its connection to family. I hadn’t planned to spend it unless I was starving.”

  He unfolded the appraisal. “Remember when I showed you how to convert pounds into dollars? Your halfpenny is worth six thousand dollars. Seems there aren’t many like it.”

  Her frown deepened and she looked at him, her confusion evident. “How can a ha’penny be worth more than it is?”

  “Because it’s old and rare. Here’s a list, but I’m not sure Westman’s writing will be legible to you.” He took each coin and told her its value.

  “I can scarce believe it.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure this man knows pigs from potatoes?”

  When he nodded, she stood. “Wait here while I fetch the others.” She hurried into her room and soon reappeared with her leather pouch. Lining up the coins on the lamp table between them, she said, “If you please, read out the amounts for each and help me total their worth.”

  He took paper and a pen from the table’s drawer. “Okay, this one is six thousand.” He wrote the figure on the paper. “These three are four hundred each.” He added their sum to his list.

  “How can the shilling be worth less than the ha’penny.

  “It has to do with how many of each were made, how old they are, the coin’s condition, and how many are known to exist. The fewer in existence and the better the condition, the more they’re worth.”

  “I see. So tell me what my twenty pound fortune is worth.”

  He totaled the figures and then checked the sum again. “If Westman was correct, these would bring you just over twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “Twenty-five thousand! How can it be?” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Oh, no.” She reached out and touched his arm and repeated, “Oh, no. It’s that sorry I am for going behind your back for my papers. If I’d known I had a fortune, it wouldn’t have been necessary.”

  Blossom rose and took both Deirdre’s hands in hers. “You’d still have needed the papers, dear. In this day and age, you aren’t a person without them.”

  Still unhappy with his mother’s deception, he had to agree with her comment and nodded. “She’s right. Without a social security card, you can’t open a bank account, much less get a job. And twenty-five thousand may sound like a fortune, but it wouldn’t last over a year if you scrimped miserably.”

  “In spite of my lavish shopping today, I’m good at scrimping. Ma and I never had much in the way of coins. Mostly people paid us in food, chopped wood, or lengths of woven fabric for our clothes. We grew most of what we needed to eat and some of our healing herbs.”

  “Life’s more complicated now. Everything costs money.” Blossom looked at her son. “Fortunately, Brendan has a lot of it, but I like being able to make my own contribution from the profits of my shop.”

  Deirdre met his gaze. “Are you willing for me to use my papers to find a job then?”

  He exhaled, wondering what he was supposed to do. “Let me see them, see if they look authentic.”

  He couldn’t believe he was even considering conspiring with these two. He didn’t want his mom as rigid as his uptight grandparents had been, but why the hell couldn’t she have been a little more inclined toward the straight and narrow instead of being a blasted free spirit?

  Deirdre raced to her room and returned with a manila envelope.

  He examined the documents. Damn, he’d never have known they were forged. “Mom, if I let this go, you have to give me your word you won’t do something like this ever again.”

  Blossom hedged, “I promise I’ll try, son.”

  He figured that meant nothing, but it was probably as good as he’d get from her.

  “Does that mean I can use them?” Deirdre stood with her hands clasped at her breasts, reminding him of Mrs. Farris when she realized he’d keep searching for the killers.

  “Aw, hell, I suppose so.” He handed the forgeries to Deirdre. “Only, I repeat, only to work at Mom’s shop. For damn sure no credit cards. Don’t use the ID for anything but filling out the employment forms for Mom. Do I have your word?”

  Her sweet smile beamed at him. “Oh, yes, Brendan. It’s that grateful to you I am. You’ve no idea what this means to me.” She clasped the envelope of documents to her.

  Of course he did. Wasn’t that the point? “But you have to help me on this, Deirdre. Eventually Mom’s going to get in a lot of trouble with stunts like this. So much that I won’t be able to save her. Promise you’ll help keep her out of difficulty.”

  Deirdre glanced at Blossom, then faced him. “I’ll do my best.” She placed her hand on her heart. “You have my word.”

  He figured Deirdre would come a hell of a lot closer to keeping her word than his mom had. He stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in early. This has been...altogether too interesting a day.” That was an understatement. Frustrating, exhausting, annoying as hell. And he firmly believed he hadn’t seen the last of problems from these two. Especially Blossom Hunter.

  Nope. Experience was a good teacher.

  He wondered what they’d be into next?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next afternoon the doorbell’s ring startled Brendan. He’d been reading with BadCat napping on one end of the sofa. “How come you’re in here with me and my dog’s outside with Deirdre?” He went to open the door. “Hey, Jim. Come in.”

  Jim Graham, the sheriff’s deputy, stepped inside and looked around the room. “Your guest here?”

  Dang, he didn’t want Jim talking to Deirdre again. No telling what she’d say. “She’s sitting on the dock catching some rays. Anything I can help you with?”

  “I wondered if she’s still sticking to that story she was chased and had to jump off the cliff? And what did Dr. Roan say?”

  “She has mild amnesia from her concussion.” Inside, Brendan cringed. Technically, Dave had said she might have amnesia. Brendan hated stretching the truth. Seemed to him that lately his ethics had gone down the tube.

  “Amnesia? Don’t that beat all? No point in questioning her then.”

  “No. Dave said she may regain her memory.”

  “Let me know if she does.” Jim turned to leave.

  “Sure thing.”

  Brendan watched Jim drive away, then closed the door. What had his life come to? Yesterday he’d agreed to forged documents. Today he’d lied to a lawman he liked and respected. What next?

  Disgusted with himself, he went out the back door. He slipped on his sunglasses and walked toward the dock. The stiff breeze whipped up small waves that lapped at the shore. Too windy for fishermen, but a small sailboat cut through the water. He saw two other sails in the distance.

  Prince lay with his head in Deirdre’s lap. He thumped his tail against the dock in greeting for Brendan, but otherwise didn’t move.

  Her shoes were behin
d her and her jeans were rolled up to her knees as she dangled her feet into the lake. She leaned on one arm braced behind her while she shaded her eyes with her other hand, apparently watching a hawk.

  Brendan dropped near her and folded his legs in front of him Indian style. “You put on the sunblock?”

  She didn’t move except to smile. “Yes, Ma.”

  “You won’t be so sassy if you sunburn and that gorgeous ivory skin turns bright red.”

  Sitting up, she turned toward him and her lovely blue eyes widened. “You think my skin is gorgeous?”

  He smiled. “Haven’t you looked in the mirror? It’s one of your best features.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “I can’t judge. From the other women I’ve seen in your time, my skin’s too pale and there’s too much of me.” She kicked her feet and sent water spraying outward. “If it’s only one of my best features, what are others?”

  He wagged a finger at her. “Unh-uh. No fishing for compliments.”

  She stared at him and tilted her head. She smiled and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

  Danged if she wasn’t flirting with him. Maybe he’d better go right back inside and leave this woman alone. Yeah, but his body appeared out of his control and his legs didn’t move.

  “Okay.” He reached forward and twined one of her black locks in his fingers. “You have nice hair. Thick and long and shiny and it smells nice when you pass by.” He tugged on the strands. “And your eyes are pretty, blue as the lake.”

  “Is that all?” She appeared as if she hoped for more.

  “For now.” He smiled and pulled his hand back to his knee, away from temptation.

  “Blossom will be home soon, won’t she?”

  Consulting his watch, he agreed, “In another hour.” He started to ask her if she’d like a watch when his phone rang. “Hunter here.”

  A hoarse whisper said, “Got something for you.”

  Brendan recognized the caller as Frank Porter, an alcoholic snitch, and asked, “Where.”

  “Same place as last time.”

  “Be there in thirty minutes.” He slipped his cell phone back into its holder and rose. “I have to go into town. Tell Mom not to wait supper for me.”

  Suddenly Deirdre paled. “W—Wait.” She pushed Prince gently aside and stood to face Brendan. “If you must go, please be back before dark.”

  “Why?”

  She licked her lips. Her hand shook when she touched his arm. “I-I can’t explain, but please promise you’ll be home before dark.”

  “What’s this, another one of your so-called visions?”

  She gripped his sleeve. “Scoff if you will, but please heed my warning.”

  “Or what?” He grabbed her arms. “Will your friends be waiting for me?”

  “I have no friends but Blossom, and perhaps you when you’re in a good mood.”

  “I don’t believe in visions, Deirdre.” He released her. “I have to hurry and take care of some business, then I’ll come home. Don’t forget to tell Mom.”

  He stalked off. When he looked back, she stood watching him, her hands clasped at her breast and a worried look on her face. Crazy woman. She might really believe she could see the future, but he’d be damned if he’d cater to her foolish notions.

  Twenty-five minutes later he pulled into Dew Drop In’s parking lot. The sleazy dive was in a decaying area, and he checked the parking lot before he got out of his car and locked it. Afternoon sun would turn the car to a sauna by the time he returned but this wasn’t an area in which you could leave windows open even an inch.

  Inside the bar, the stench of cigarette smoke blended with alcohol, unwashed bodies, and—whoa—the disgusting sewer-like odor of a clogged toilet drain. In a back booth, Frank Porter hunched over a drink. He met Brendan’s glance, but showed no sign of recognition.

  Brendan dropped quarters in the jukebox and punched in his selections then wove his way across the room. He slid into the booth across from his snitch. He hoped the loud music drowned out his voice to all but Frank.

  “Thanks for the call, Frank. What do you have?”

  “Word is someone with muscle’s out to get you.” Frank’s hoarse whisper was barely audible over the noise.

  He tossed a twenty at the man. “Any idea who?”

  Frank pocketed the money then stared at Brendan with bleary eyes.

  Searching for patience, Brendan asked, “Do you have any idea who’s after me?”

  “No, but I got me a friend who’s helpin’ find out. We’re gonna let you know, but you gotta be careful.”

  “I always am.”

  Frank grabbed his wrist. “No, I mean really careful. Heard this guy won’t quit ‘til you’re dead.”

  A chill slid down his spine. “I’ll take extra care.”

  Frank released him. “See, I like you. You ain’t like some what call me ‘Old Oily’ or tell me I’m a liar to my face. You treat me like I’m somebody ‘n you always pay me up front. So did your friend what got killed after I tipped him off. I hope it wasn’t nothing I said got him killed.”

  Brendan leaned forward. “Why would it be? What did you tell him?”

  “I ain’t sure, but I ‘member talking to him the day ‘fore he died. Might a had something to do with drugs. Yeah, that’s right, drugs.” Frank leaned forward. “Me ‘n my friend figure we’ll know who the guy is looking to get you by day after tomorrow. Meet here early in the afternoon, right after the place opens. You can buy me lunch.”

  “You want to tell me who your friend is?”

  Frank shook his head. “Don’t want nobody knowing me ‘n Mick are friends.”

  Brendan held up Frank’s glass and signaled the lone waitress for a refill. When she delivered it, he handed her a bill and stood. “See you day after tomorrow, Frank.”

  Frank nodded. “See ya. Remember, be careful. I mean extra, extra careful.”

  Brendan did a couple of errands then drove to the police station. He arrived near seven. Owen had left for the day, but Brendan bumped into George Holt. So cynical he made Brendan look like Little Mary Sunshine, George was a good officer and he always kept up on office gossip. An accident that left him with a limp had turned him into a desk jockey, so he heard everything.

  “Hey, George, you have time to talk?”

  “I’m on my way to grab a burger. You eaten yet?”

  “No, and I’m hungry. How about I drive?”

  “Nice car.” George fastened his seat belt. “New, isn’t it?”

  “Bought it a couple of weeks before Larry and I were shot. Good mileage so far.”

  Brendan chose Sonic, so they could eat in the car and avoid anyone overhearing them. Besides, he loved their onion rings.

  When they’d ordered, Brendan asked, “Anything new on Larry’s murder?”

  “Hmph. No and not likely to be if you ask me.”

  “What do you mean? Owen told me they were checking every lead.”

  “Maybe he thinks they are, but I haven’t seen any evidence of it.”

  “So what’s your theory?”

  George shook his head. “Not sure I have one, but something’s not right lately. Can’t put my finger on it.” He tapped his stomach. “I have this gut feeling. You know?”

  “Yeah, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s never ignore your gut instinct.” The carhop brought their food and Brendan paid, waving aside George’s attempt to hand him a five.

  “Hey, thanks. When you coming back to work?” George bit into his cheeseburger and reached for a fry.

  “Over three more weeks of forced vacation. Don’t know how I’ll last that long. Idleness doesn’t suit me.”

  “Know what you mean. We’ll be glad to see you back. With Farris gone and you out, it makes for short staff.”

  They talked shop for another half-hour, but George didn’t shed any light on Brendan’s quest. It was dark when he dropped George back at the cop shop for the balance of his shift.

  George opened the ca
r door. “You coming in?”

  “No point hanging around here. Guess I’ll head home.”

  “Take care.” George closed the door and walked into the police station.

  Another person telling him to be careful? What was with everyone? Brendan waved at a couple of acquaintances and headed home.

  Clouds scudded across the sliver of moon and created an inky night. A radio newscaster warned of a severe storm’s approach. The only downside about staying with his mom at the lake was the drive home. He had to admit he wouldn’t mind living at the lake permanently though. The peace it offered made the trip worthwhile.

  Nights like this reminded him of the disadvantages. Winding roads, no center stripe, no streetlights. A stiff breeze tugged at the car. Brendan swerved around a fallen tree limb.

  Thank goodness for halogen headlights.

  As he passed a side road, a dark SUV the size of a small tank turned in behind him. He hadn’t known anyone lived up that road, but lots of new folks were moving in. Perhaps someone had built up on that hill. The other vehicle’s headlights grew closer.

  He glanced in the rear view mirror again. “Damned fool. Get off my tail and go around.”

  Finally, the SUV drew alongside him to pass. Instead of pulling ahead, it swerved into his front fender.

  “What the hell?” Brendan blasted his car’s horn.

  In answer, the SUV bumped him again, harder this time.

  Thunder boomed overhead. Rain began to fall and the pavement turned slick as ice. He recalled Deirdre’s warning and Frank’s. This was it then, whoever drove the SUV intended to drive him off the road.

  They approached a sharp curve. Brendan fought to defend his car against the larger vehicle’s attack. His mid-size sedan had no chance against the huge SUV. Metal screeched against metal. He lost control and his car plunged down the embankment and rolled.

  When the car stopped, he hung suspended upside down. Deflated airbags dangled like spent balloons. Unfastening the seat belt, Brendan dropped to his overturned car’s headliner.

  He touched the lump on his head and found sticky moisture. Blood. His head ached like a sonofabitch and he needed to sit down, but he didn’t dare delay inside the car. The strong odor of gasoline surrounded him and he feared an explosion.