Beyond This Time: A Time-Travel Suspense Novel

by Charlotte Banchi

  “Timothy, you got to understand about all this. It’s not your business.”

  “Come down here, please.”

  Lettie Ruth moved slowly down the steps. “This is colored business.”

  “Ain’t no color in my house,” he said quietly.

  She reached the last step and stopped, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I know that, probably better than any person on this earth. But, Timothy, what’s layin’ on our floor is still colored business. I’m asking you to back down and let me handle it.”

  He patted her hand. “You can’t handle it alone. It’s gonna take everyone in this house, colored and white, to pull it off. Three men don’t up and disappear without somebody, somewhere, knowing something. And I’m afraid we’re that something”

  “Because of Billy Lee Mitchell?”

  “He won’t be a problem,” Mitch said as he walked through the front door. “I’ve decided to take him on as my special project.”

  “That boy is crazy,” Lettie Ruth warned. “Crazy mean.”

  “And he won’t ever change,” Mitch said. “That’s why I’m devoting my energy to dealing with his personality flaws.”

  “You think he’ll keep quiet after you deal with his flaws?” Biggers asked.

  Mitch nodded. “I guarantee nobody will hear a peep out of him.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “No, but I know where he’ll end up. You take care of the others and I’ll handle Billy Lee.”

  * * *

  Kat sat up and rubbed her eyes. The full impact of her actions settled like a steel blanket around her shoulders. Because she’d flipped out her family and friends were in trouble. She needed to find a way to defuse all this before everything hit the fan. Maybe if she and Mitch put their heads together, they could come up with a workable solution.

  She found Timothy and Lettie Ruth in the kitchen. “Hello,” she said hesitantly, remaining in the doorway. Earlier they’d talked about what happened upstairs and Kat felt they understood why she reacted in such a violent manner. But the facts still hung in the air between them—she’d killed two men. How could they ever forget?

  “Hey, honey, come on in. I just put up a pot of coffee,” Lettie Ruth said, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

  “Are you sure?” Kat asked, looking at Timothy.

  “Of course,” he said. “We can always use another pair of hands. Grab a broom and get busy.”

  Grateful for their acceptance she went to work. In a short while they finished and were seated at the table with cups of steaming coffee.

  “Have you seen, Mitch?” Kat asked.

  “He and the woman took off little while back,” Lettie Ruth said.

  “What woman?”

  “The one who’s been sittin’ out front in that shiny black car.”

  Kat thought for a minute, the only other woman Mitch knew in Maceyville was his mother. After all his lectures about interacting with family members would he—had he dared to make contact with Pamela Mitchell?

  “Did he say anything about her? A name?” she asked.

  “He seemed a bit secretive if you ask me.”

  “Mind your own business, Lettie,” Biggers said. “He’s a grown man and if he has a lady friend, good for him.”

  Lettie Ruth sniffed. “A lady friend with a baby is good for him?”

  “A baby?” Biggers grinned. “Maybe she’s a real good lady friend.”

  “I don’t think you ought to be making light of this. A woman with a baby got no business messin’ with a single man.”

  “You’ve misjudged him,” Kat said defensively. “Mitch has family in the area. She’s probably a cousin or something.”

  “Both of you take it easy,” Biggers said, picking through a plate of burnt meatloaf. “Her name’s Pamela. I delivered that baby girl six or seven months back.”

  “Well why didn’t you say so?” Lettie Ruth asked.

  “It’s more fun listening to you make up stories.”

  Kat’s stomach knotted up. Mitch hadn’t accidently run into his mother. He’d gone looking for her. And now her partner was interfering with the past. She thought about the things they discussed about his early years, trying to figure out what he could be up to. She knew Pamela had left Billy Lee when Mitch was five or six-years-old, but he’d never mentioned a sister. If Kat were given a choice of one thing from his past that would push him into this insane action, she’d pick the sister. Something had obviously happened to her in the original timeline, and it appeared her partner was going to try and stop it from occurring again.

  “Do you know where he went?” Kat asked.

  “Not for sure, but I’d guess he took them home,” Lettie Ruth said.

  “Then you expect him back soon?”

  “Mitch is gonna be tied up for a while,” Biggers said. “He has a couple of things to tend to this morning.”

  “Like what?” Kat’s blood seemed to slow in her veins.

  “He took Pam and Carolyn to the bus station—”

  “How come you know so much?” Lettie Ruth interrupted.

  Biggers raised his eyebrows. “Men talk to each other, just like women. Mitch told me.”

  “Then why is he takin’ her?”

  “That’s his business. None of mine, and most certainly none of yours.”

  “You said he had a couple of things to do,” Kat said. “What else?”

  “He’s planning on spending some quality time with Billy Lee Mitchell.”

  Kat’s hand trembled as she placed her cup on the table. “Timothy,” the doctor looked at her and she tried to keep the panic out of her eyes and voice, “what did he say?”

  “He told me, Kat,” Biggers said, staring into her eyes. “He told me.”

  “Everything?”

  “Everything. And I found it to be a damn interesting discussion.”

  “What you two talkin’ about?” Lettie Ruth asked in an annoyed tone.

  “Like Alvin says, Lettie Ruth, it will all come out in the by and by,” Biggers said.

  Kat nodded. “For now, let’s get back to Billy Lee.”

  “He said we didn’t have to worry ‘bout that boy,” Lettie Ruth said, obviously pleased to be included in the conversation again.

  Kat bit her bottom lip. “Why don’t you have to worry?”

  “Mitch is going to convince him to keep quiet,” Biggers said.

  “And he said no need for us to get all worked up, ‘cause Billy Lee wouldn’t never talk about what went on today,” Lettie Ruth said.

  Kat’s eyes filled with tears and they ran down her cheeks. “He’s going to kill himself,” she whispered.

  Lettie Ruth took her hand. “No, honey, Mitch will be just fine. He’s going to take care of Billy Lee.”

  “If he does that, then he won’t be…”

  “Won’t be what?” Lettie Ruth asked.

  “He won’t ever be.” Kat knew her words didn’t make sense to her aunt, but it didn’t matter. She had to find her partner before he did anything stupid. Killing Billy Lee Mitchell in 1963 would guarantee James Andrew Mitchell would not be born in 1965.

  Excusing herself, Kat raced to the second floor. She stood in the middle of the television room, her heart hammering in her chest as the fear grew. The room had been cleaned, all signs of the earlier violence erased. She remembered looking at the Arson/Fatality list right before Louis was shot downstairs. Where had she put it? She turned her pockets inside out—nothing. She bent down and peered under the furniture. Where was the damn list?

  “Lookin’ for this?”

  She jumped when the male voice spoke from behind her.

  Alvin Rayson stood in the door, the crumpled sheet of paper in his hand.

  “I found it in the hallway earlier. Didn’t look familiar, so I figured it belonged to you or Mitch.”

  Kat held out her hand. “Yes, it does. Thank you, Pastor Rayson.”

  He looked at the list. “Interesting piece of paper
you got here. Did you know it changes from time to time?”

  She sat on the sofa. She didn’t have an answer for this man. Should she explain to him about time-travel and future daughters? “I know it changes,” she whispered.

  Rayson sat beside her, his scent so familiar she could barely keep from throwing her arms around him. “Care to talk about it?”

  “Some things are for the knowing and some for the telling.”

  He held up the list. “This one is for the telling, Kathleen. Peculiar things been happening since you arrived and I want an explanation.”

  “You don’t want this explanation, sir, and someday you’ll thank me for being so evasive.” She held her hand out. “May I please have it?”

  “What interests you on this peculiar list?” Rayson asked, still holding on to the paper.

  “If you won’t return my property, will you at least read the last entry out loud?”

  He ran his finger down the names. “Says here, Louis Smith.”

  Kat sagged against his shoulder, her breathing ragged. “Then there’s still time,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be so sure, it read different a few minutes ago.”

  She sat up and stared at him, her eyes hard. “How different? What did it say?”

  “Said Billy Lee Mitchell. But that name’s gone now and I want to know why.”

  “Ask me again in thirty-seven-years, Pop.” Kat snatched the paper out of his hand and raced from the room and down the stairs.

  “You can count on it,” Rayson shouted.

  =THIRTY-FOUR=

  APRIL 06—SATURDAY—4:00 A.M.

  Mitch realized his original plan of simply blowing his father to kingdom come wouldn’t work. That approach would cause even more problems for Tim Biggers and the clinic. He needed to figure out a way to draw suspicion away from his east Hollow friends.

  And to make sure Kat got to Park Street at the right time.

  He parked the Impala on Webster Avenue and went inside the yellow painted Waffle Shop. The smell of fresh coffee and maple syrup filled the narrow building. He took a seat at the end of the chrome trimmed counter and motioned for the waitress.

  “Double order of waffles, bacon, ham, eggs and hash browns,” he told her. His last breakfast should be really good and really big. “Oh, and leave the coffee pot.”

  As his stomach worked on the enormous meal, his brain worked on the enormous problem. Permanently removing Billy Lee Mitchell posed no difficulty, just one bullet. His father’s reputation as a bad boy wiped out many plausibility problems regarding his imminent demise. The police wouldn’t closely scrutinize the death of one more moonshine runner. But leaving a trail, in case the police zeroed in on the clinic, pointing to a clear-cut reason for Louis, Floyd, and Little Carl’s disappearance required a delicate touch.

  He what-if’d several scenarios before hitting the jackpot.

  * * *

  Kat would have preferred to leave the phone booth door open, but the rain was getting harder and blowing in on her. Enclosed in the humid glass rectangle, she thumbed through the tattered and dog-eared white pages until she hit the M section. She ran her finger down the list, searching for a Billy Lee Mitchell.

  “There it is,” she muttered. “B.L. Mitchell, 752 Blodgett 555-1256.”

  She looked at the rotary dial on the phone. What-if she made one more call? A call to a number that most likely didn’t exist in this here and now?

  It only took her thirty seconds to make the decision. She ttok deep slow breaths as the number rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Kathleen,” she said, ignoring the creeping tremor in her hands.

  “Who is this?”

  “Dangerous for you. Stay away. Don’t cross.” As soon as she’d said the words the shaking stopped. She didn’t know if this would work, but it was all she had.

  Nothing. She was still in the phone booth in 1963 Maceyville.

  Now what?

  A moment later she stepped out of the booth. She needed transportation. No sooner had the thought entered her mind than a car turned the corner. Since she was still in the east Hollow Kat thought it would be safe to flag it down and hitch a ride. The teenage driver didn’t want to go to west Maceyville, especially at four in the morning, so she turned on the charm. When that failed, she pulled the .45.

  * * *

  Kat cautiously peeked in the window at the back of the house. Although the place was quiet and dark, she didn’t want a confrontation with Billy Lee. Surely if Mitch were inside, he would have let her know by now. She stood under the eaves and watched the water spill out of the rain gutter trying to decide her next move.

  Her gut instinct told her Mitch would turn up here. But what-if she missed him? What-if he’d already been to Billy Lee’s house? I have to find him before it’s too late. Kat pulled the wet sweater off and dropped it in the trash can, then trotted down the alley.

  * * *

  Mitch pulled the black Impala into the driveway and cut the engine. Rain drummed on the car roof and the windows immediately fogged over. He rummaged in the glove box until he found a piece of paper to write on.

  He chewed on the end of a pencil, thinking it through. His note must clearly convey his message. On the other hand, the wording must be vague enough so police suspicions weren’t aroused. Because if they tracked it back to the clinic, Mitch would have defeated his own purpose.

  “You want what I took? 6:00 A.M. at 5429 Park Street.”

  He left the note face up on the dash and got out of the Chevy.

  * * *

  Lettie Ruth Rayson couldn’t recall ever feeling such absolute terror before. The terror completely engulfed her as the Ford closed the distance between vehicles. Its headlights blinked several times, then it slowly pulled around the De Soto. The man behind the wheel didn’t bother to look over as he passed them.

  For the past two hours this had been the only vehicle she’d seen, but it generated enough fear that it might as well have been loaded with a whole regiment of Alabama State Troopers. She thought carrying dead white men in the trunk gave a whole new meaning to the slogan, ‘Watch out for the other driver’.

  She leaned forward and tapped Taxi on the shoulder. From the way he jumped she figured he was watching out for the other driver too. “How much longer?” Lettie Ruth asked.

  “We be gettin’ into the bayou’s in about ten miles.”

  “You sure you can find this place?”

  “I been huntin’ gators down here since I been tall enough to hold a shotgun. I won’t have no problem.”

  Lettie Ruth sank back, only slightly eased. She glared at the back of Dreama’s head, recalling how hard headed she’d acted earlier. After coming over to the clinic and agitating the situation, she had a lot of nerve to be sleepin’ at a time like this. Everybody’s always talking how northern agitators stirred things up, well they ought to be more worried about southern agitators. Lettie fumed over the tacky way her friend had behaved …

  … Lettie sat in the chair tapping her foot as Timothy Biggers and Taxi studied a road map spread on the check-in desk, working out the safest route.

  “You expectin’ my man to drive all the way down to bayou country with dead Kluxers in the back of his De Soto?” Dreama asked, coming into the room.

  Taxi frowned. “You stay out of this.”

  “I know one colored man better stay out of it,” she said. “You can’t be haulin’ white bodies all over the county, Taxi.”

  “We mapped out a safe route, Dreama, it won’t be a problem,” Biggers assured her.

  “Oh, and I suppose you be ridin’ along with him?”

  “No, I won’t be going,” the doctor said quietly.

  “Why not? It happened in your clinic, Timothy.”

  Biggers gave her an exasperated look. “You’re not lookin’ at the whole picture here. Somebody needs to stay in town and douse the rumors. I expect to have a waiting room full of Maceyville policemen by noon.”

 
“And where’s Mr. Mitch during all this hauling and talking? I don’t see him working to fit no bodies in his car.”

  “He’s handling other business,” Biggers said.

  Dreama’s chest heaved and her anger grew. “And Kat? Where’s the woman what started all this? How come we’re the only ones here?”

  “Kat’s lookin’ for Mr. Mitch,” Taxi told her.

  “Taxi offered to take care of the bodies, Dreama. Nobody asked him,” Biggers said. “And I’ll talk to the police—”

  “So you gonna be here all alone and you gonna do all the explaining?” Dreama interrupted.

  Lettie Ruth had kept her peace up to this point, but the implied meaning of the question was too ugly to let pass. “You are going in the wrong door, girl. Best back off.”

  “I want to know what your white doctor plans on tellin’ the white policemen, Lettie Ruth.”

  “If you got something on your mind, Dreama,” Biggers said, “quit dancing around the edges.”

  Lettie Ruth heard the anger bubbling underneath Timothy’s words. Everybody knew where Dreama was going with this line of thought. Without actually coming right out with it, she’d just accused Timothy of selling them out.

  Brown poison shot out of Dreama’s eyes. “Why would you side up with a nigger girl that went and killed two white men?”

  “Because it’s my clinic and my business. I take full responsibility for what happens within these walls. I won’t be jumpin’ in bed with the local law.”

  “That mean you’ll be saying you pulled the trigger? Leave Kat completely out of it?”

  Taxi grabbed her by the arm. “You said enough, Dreama. We don’t need extra aggravation right now.”

  Dreama jerked her arm away. “You best be worryin’ about a whole lot more than aggravation. It won’t never be his white ass swingin’ from a tree branch, Taxi. You think he’ll give up doctoring for a nigger?”

  Biggers turned and stomped out of the room, his face a dangerous shade of red.

  “I wonder if you listen to what’s coming out of your own mouth sometimes,” Lettie Ruth said, keeping her voice low. “Don’t give me that look,” she said when Dreama rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. “How could you say those things about Timothy?”