Out of Time (Lovers in Time Series, Book 1): Time Travel Romance

by Marilyn Campbell

  "And I believe that brings us up to the minute that the little general ordered us to report to the dining room." Leading the way, he said, "I may own this house but General Hannah runs it. Don't know what I would have done without her all these years and no wife to take care of me."

  O'Neill walked to the head of the long dining room table and directed Kelly to take the seat to his right with Jack at her side. It took a bit longer for Junior to assist his father to their places opposite the guests. When Jack got his first good look at Junior Ramey's grotesquely disfigured face, it was even worse than he'd imagined. It was obvious why he never saw him in the courtroom with the rest of the observers.

  A chilled cucumber soup and selection of crackers was at each place but before anyone was permitted to taste, the treasurer recited a prayer of thanksgiving. Throughout the first course, the two older men took turns asking Kelly and Jack superficial questions about their backgrounds and how they liked Georgia. It helped that they had just spent two days sightseeing.

  "Y'all look so familiar," Beau said, narrowing his eyes at Kelly. "Do ya have family in these parts?"

  "Not that I know of," she replied with complete innocence. "I'm originally from Scranton, Pennsylvania and I'm pretty sure all my relatives have been in that area for generations."

  Beau was clearly not satisfied with that answer. "Is Kirkwood your family name or a pen name?"

  "Actually, it's my married name." She made him wait a second before giving him the information he was really looking for. "My maiden name was Quinn and my mother's maiden name was Fitzsimmons."

  Ramey seemed to be searching for another logical reason why Kelly looked familiar but Hannah's entrance with a rolling cart distracted him.

  With swift efficiency, she served each guest a grilled chicken Caesar salad with a side of cornbread then wordlessly departed again. Jack had thought the watery soup seemed like an odd choice but the less than substantial fare for the main course disappointed him. He wondered if there was a fast food drive-thru on the way back to the cabin.

  "As you can tell by the menu," O'Neill said in a slightly annoyed tone, "I don't even have a say about what foods are served at my own table. Thanks to the collaboration of Hannah and my family physician, the only time I even get to look at barbecued pork ribs or fried chicken anymore is at our annual Fourth of July picnic." For the next quarter hour, he regaled Kelly with highlights from past picnics.

  Hannah was clearing the table before Kelly was able to politely commandeer the conversation. "That's a wonderful story, Reid. In fact, any of those anecdotes would make an excellent opener for your biography."

  Jack caught the quick glance that passed between O'Neill and the senior Ramey and knew without hearing another word that Kelly would not be getting a green light on her project. No matter how good the reason sounded, they couldn't allow anyone to dig up the past. He also had the distinct impression that Ramey was in a superior position. Perhaps he was still the Imperial Wizard.

  "Why don't you tell me what you have in mind," O'Neill said, as though he were actually interested.

  "Americans love stories about self-made men," Kelly began enthusiastically. "From everything I've heard, you'd be the perfect subject and with my clout in New York, I'm sure we could put together a proposal that would guarantee an auction. I hope you don't mind but, just to get an initial reaction, I mentioned the possibility to my agent and I'm not exaggerating when I tell you he flipped for it. He thinks we could get seven figures easily."

  "S-seven figures?" Reid repeated with no little surprise. "My life story could bring in over one million dollars?"

  "Oh, at least one. And then, of course, any movie or television deal would be on top of that. By the way, did you know my last book is being made into a movie?"

  Jack had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. She was really good. He watched the eye movements and subtle body language between the two older men and could easily guess at the translation. O'Neill no longer wanted to turn Kelly down flat. Ramey was reminding him of whatever they had discussed and decided before.

  "I am certainly flattered, Kelly," Reid said with another side glance at Beau. "And you seem to be a very honest, straightforward woman. However, I have heard of instances where someone grants an interview and their words are all twisted around by the time it goes into print. I myself have not experienced such treachery but with all the people that would be involved in such a grand endeavor, I might not be so fortunate this time."

  "I can offer a guarantee," Kelly quickly countered. "I can have it written in the contract that you would have approval of the final edited manuscript before it's released in any form. Your story is so inspirational. Just think of all the young people you could influence. Besides that, a biography would give you the rare opportunity to share your thoughts and opinions with the entire world."

  That lure even caused Ramey's brows to raise in speculation but it wasn't enough to completely sway him.

  When O'Neill appeared to be out of objections, Ramey stepped in. "Pardon me for enterin' into a conversation that is clearly none of mah business but Ah feel there is somethin' that Kelly should know. Reid and Ah have been friends most of our lives and no one on God's great earth would be happier ta see his life story become an inspiration to our young people. But there have been some dark times in his life, painful events that no man should have to relive, particularly not in public."

  "I assure you, I understand," Kelly told him with great compassion. "Any delicate matters would be treated with discretion. It's not as though I'm some tabloid reporter purposely looking to dig up dirt to discredit him."

  "Were you in the O'Neill store in Buford recently?" It was the first time Junior had spoken.

  Jack was impressed that Kelly was able to look at the scary-looking rapist directly as she answered.

  "Um, yes, I was there shopping. Why do you ask?"

  "You were asking one of my employees questions about Mr. O'Neill. Is that what you would do if he agreed to this... biography?"

  "Well, yes. Other people's impressions and anecdotes are usually included but as I said before, Mr. O'Neill would have final approval, so he could eliminate anything that didn't please him."

  Although Kelly looked and sounded as though she were perfectly calm, Jack could see her wringing the linen napkin on her lap. They were seated too far apart for him to give her a reassuring pat. She was doing a great job of selling her idea; the problem was the only one interested in buying didn't appear to have the freedom to do so.

  Hannah returned with coffee and tea service and dessert. Jack looked at the angel food cake and single scoop of rainbow-colored sherbet and decided a long life wasn't worth it if it meant eating like this all the time.

  Kelly continued to answer every objection with a confident assurance that everything would be handled with utmost care but Jack could tell she knew it was hopeless. What really amazed him was how well she was holding up under Junior's eerie one-eyed stare. If Mary Beth had been correct about his having been infatuated with Ginger, he had to be doing mental back flips over Kelly but, other than the unbroken stare, he gave no indication that he was affected by her presence.

  O'Neill finally put an end to Kelly's misery. "I want you to know that I have never had such a wonderful offer from such a lovely lady but I'm afraid my answer is going to have to be no. As Beau said, it would cause me too much pain to talk about certain events of the past, nor do I really want folks to be bothered with questions and interviews on my account."

  "But I—"

  "I'm sorry," he said, firmly cutting Kelly off. "That's my decision. And I hope that I am judging your integrity correctly when I say I do not expect to hear that you have gone ahead with this project on an unauthorized basis. That would truly disappoint me."

  Kelly rose gracefully. "I wouldn't think of disappointing you, Mr. O'Neill but you have truly disappointed me."

  * * *

  As soon as the guests were out of the house,
Beau asked, "Why would a successful author of love stories be so danged anxious to write a biography about a businessman? There has ta be somethin' more to it."

  "I do hope your suspicions are correct," Reid said with a shake of his head. "For that was a hell of a lot of money I just turned down."

  "Talk is cheap. Ain't no telling what the actual numbers would have been had you agreed."

  Junior let out a soft snort that got his father's attention.

  "Speak up if you have an opinion, son. That's why you were invited."

  "Bullshit. I was invited because of my vested interest in Reid's past and if you two aren't going to say it out loud I will. We were looking at a ghost today and I don't believe for one minute that her being in Charming or her generous offer are purely coincidental."

  "For once we agree," Beau said. "But it wasn't just her appearance that bothered me; it was also the fact that her assistant was so well disguised."

  Reid frowned at him. "You didn't believe her explanation about his having brain surgery?"

  "I might have, if that was the only odd thing about her bein' here but puttin' it all together—"

  Junior snorted again. "I've only got one good eye but apparently I see better than the two of you together. Didn't either one of you notice the words on his hat?" He gave them a moment to recall it before revealing the answer. "Detroit Tigers." When that didn't ring any bells for the older men, he spelled it out for them. "There was once a reporter who kept stickin' his nose—and his dick—into other people's business. I'll give you three guesses what city that man was from."

  Reid's droopy eyes widened with awareness. "Ah had completely forgotten that detail. It was so many years ago."

  "Well, I haven't forgotten," Junior said in a low voice. "I remember every single detail. The question is, was he purposely giving us a clue about why they were here or was it an oversight on his part?"

  Andrew Hartman spoke for the first time since the opening prayer. "The Lord works in mysterious ways, gentlemen. Perhaps it was a warning from Him that once again, there is a snake in our midst."

  Beau's expression hardened. "Ah have ta say, Andy, ah'm not often pleased that ya traded avengin' for prayin', but every so often, y'all say somethin' that makes it worthwhile. There is no question we must prepare ourselves to deal with the devil."

  "I don't think we should act in haste," Reid said with a fretful look. "Circumstances are much different today."

  "Of course. You're quite right," Beau told him. "We should investigate the matter further before takin' action. Mizz Kirkwood's a writer. Perhaps she's written somethin' about what she and that assistant of hers are really up to. Junior, perhaps you'd like ta take a peek inside that cabin where she's been stayin'. Seems I recall you once had a taste for enterin' women's homes uninvited."

  Junior would have been annoyed with his father's attempt at humor if his suggestion hadn't caused a streak of excitement to race through his lower body. This woman reminded him so much of Ginger—

  "Just a look around," his father warned, correctly guessing the train of Junior's thoughts. "When no one is home."

  Junior acknowledged the instructions but that didn't mean he couldn't fantasize about doing it his way.

  Chapter 16

  "No doubt about it," Kelly said as they drove onto the dirt road to the cabin. "I got the same impressions as you. I don't believe for a second that they were having a pre-scheduled business meeting."

  "Not unless the 'business' was making sure O'Neill's ego didn't put the past under a microscope."

  "But why else would the company treasurer be there?"

  "Andrew Hartman might actually be the corporate treasurer but more than likely he's also the Kludd," Jack answered simply, then elaborated. "The chaplain. Every meeting of the Klan opens with a prayer, and I think this was a private, but official, meeting of the powers that be, or at least the powers that were back then. But there was something else about him. Like I'd seen him somewhere before, or at least someone with his height and bulk."

  "Maybe he's their muscle," Kelly offered. "Like a bodyguard."

  Jack snapped his fingers. "That's it. Remember I told you about the beating I got? Well, they all had hoods covering their faces but they weren't wearing sheets. One of the guys was huge, with shoulders like a linebacker. I'd bet good money Andrew Hartman was that guy. And if so, his presence at lunch today might confirm the theory that my being framed was a group effort."

  "But it doesn't answer who actually raped and killed Ginger."

  Jack sighed. "You know damn well who the rapist was at that table. He may only have half a face but you had to have felt him staring at you the whole time. In that twisted mind of his he probably had you strapped down on the—"

  "Okay! I felt it. But that doesn't mean he killed her."

  "What the hell difference does it make? It was one of them. And they're still alive and still dangerous. I don't want to see them do to you what they did to Ginger. You've just had your hands tied as far as doing any further investigating in this area. And we did as much as we could in Atlanta. It's time to forget it."

  She frowned. "I can't. I'm writing a book about it, remember?"

  "Then write the book. It's supposed to be fiction, so make it up. Just pick someone to be the actual murderer and get on with it. I'll help however I can but there is nothing to be gained by pushing those guys into a corner. You have to remember, it's not just four old friends sharing a secret. An Imperial Wizard of the Klan and his son were in that room. The old man probably still wields enough influence to stir up a hanging party."

  Kelly was quiet for the rest of the short trip but as they pulled up in front of the cabin, she asked, "Do you think I was wrong about your having to go back to 1965 to prevent Ginger's death or at least see to it that the guilty man was prosecuted?"

  He stroked her cheek. "I think you're mistaken about why I was sent here. In spite of all our efforts, we don't really know that much more than what I'd suspected to begin with. After facing those men today though, I am certain of one thing. Even if I knew without a doubt who killed Ginger and framed me, it wouldn't make any difference. In 1965 they had all the power and I had none. My knowledge would not have stopped them from doing exactly what they'd planned."

  "I'm not sure I agree but go ahead."

  "What I'm getting at is this, if they hadn't gotten me one way, they would have done it another. I don't think my being sent here was a temporary reprieve. I think it was a full pardon because there was no way I could have changed what happened."

  She was almost convinced. "I'm not going to argue the point anymore. But if you suddenly get hit by a bolt of lightning or a live electrical wire accidentally falls on you and you get zapped back there, will you at least promise to try to save Ginger and set things right?"

  "Deal," he said with a smile then leaned toward her for a kiss.

  Rather than return the kiss however, she said, "I still think we're missing something important. Why do I look so much like Ginger?"

  "Please don't tell me we're back to that again."

  She smiled at the worried look in his eyes. "I'm not upset. I'm curious. It's too weird to be a complete coincidence."

  "Maybe the whole thing was God's way of making the guilty party remember what he'd done and giving him a scare. Or maybe you're the payback for my aborted relationship with Ginger."

  Kelly cocked her head at him. "So we're back to karma as an acceptable explanation. You know, I was already liking the idea of weaving in a paranormal aspect but I'd been considering time travel and spontaneous human combustion. Reincarnation had never occurred to me. Come on. I have to write this down while it's bubbling in my head." She bolted from the car into the cabin and he followed with their bags a minute later.

  She was already scribbling on a pad when he entered, so he sat down across the table from her and patiently waited for her to fill him in. After a few minutes, she got up and explained what was going on in her head while she chang
ed into her comfy "writing outfit".

  "After my divorce, another author sent me an article about how reincarnation has gained some credibility in the psychiatric community as a possible answer to certain problems, such as depression and unexplained pain and illness. If I go with a past life theme, I might be able to introduce a main character for a new series—a psychologist/amateur sleuth."

  "If you say so," he said but something told him to pay close attention to where this conversation was headed.

  "Anyway, it satisfies my curiosity about the similarity in our appearance and it will fit into the story perfectly. Think about what all you said to me. You were in deep lust over Ginger but something kept you from asking her to marry you. Now here I am, physically similar to Ginger but—in your words—better on every score. Sort of the new, improved version of Ginger, which could be partially accounted for by the mere fact that I was born in a time period when women are expected to be more."

  He glanced heavenward and pretended to be talking to God. "Are you listening to this? I wore myself out trying to convince her that I wasn't thinking of Ginger when I was with her and now I'm supposed to believe she is Ginger."

  Kelly chuckled and gave him a playful slap on the hand. "Stop it. I didn't say you had to believe it, only that it makes enough sense for readers to buy into it. Besides, you, of all people, should be willing to believe that anything is possible. Now please understand, as much as I enjoy your company, I have to do some work. So, go away."

  He rose from the chair with a grin. "It would be a lot easier to go away if we were at your townhouse."

  She looked up at him then looked around as though she just realized the cabin only had one room and no television. "Oh. I wasn't thinking. But I really like the secluded atmosphere here. Well, I don't mind handwriting if you want to read more of the encyclopedia on my laptop. And there are still lots of fiction books you haven't read. I promise, it won't take me more than a few days to write up the detailed outline of the story then we'll move back to Atlanta."