Unlike every other woman he'd known, the thought of spending an indefinite number of years with Kelly didn't make his stomach roil in panic. If anything, the sick feeling came when he thought of not being with her.
Did that mean he was in love with her?
At some point in his youth, he had come to the conclusion that in the search for the ultimate sexual experience, the truth could be stretched, with one major exception. He had decided that the one thing that went over the line was to tell a girl he loved her unless it was the absolute truth.
As the years went by and he and his female partners matured, he began to believe there was no such thing as true love. At least he'd never been certain enough of his feelings to make that special declaration.
So, did that mean he was in love with Kelly?
Maybe, but after all this time, he didn't want to jump to such a monumental conclusion too quickly. The reality was, he'd only known her a week. To be on the safe side, he decided to wait a month and if his feelings for her hadn't lessened by then, he would tell her he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
* * *
After an hour of scribbling and eliminating ideas, Kelly had come up with a somewhat rational plan. The end result was on a single sheet of paper, which she folded into a one-inch square and tightly wrapped in tape. She got up from the table and sat down on the sofa beside Jack. "Take this," she said handing him the little square. "Keep it with you at all times from now on."
He skeptically examined the tightly folded paper. "Okay. What is it?"
"The key to my heart."
He smiled, leaned forward and kissed her lips. "Thank you. I'll treasure it always."
"I'm not kidding. I couldn't stop thinking about what might happen if you got zapped back in time and one or both of us forgot what happened here. So I handwrote a letter to remind us of the important things. I wrapped it in tape in case the only way you can keep it with you is in your mouth. So don't unwrap it."
He smirked but tucked it into his jeans pocket.
"Hey, you arrived here naked, remember? According to several time-travel movies I've seen, clothes might not go with the body."
"Okay, I promise, if it feels like I'm about to be electrocuted again, I'll stick it in my mouth." He took her hand in his. "I thought you were working on your outline. Are you done?"
She shook her head. "Not quite. I needed to get this taken care of first. There's one other thing though. It occurred to me that if I forgot everything and you came to me, I might not give you the chance to hand me that letter."
He chuckled. "Yeah, I can see that happening. What did you come up with to get me past the door being slammed in my face?"
"A pass-phrase—Who's on first? I racked my brain to think of something I've never told anyone or used in any of my books. It was what my dad used to say to remind me that when something made no sense, the answer was usually right in front of me. I'd forgotten all about it until this week."
"Okay, I can remember that. But I still don't think any of these precautions are necessary. I'm not going anywhere and I'm not going to ever let you forget me."
* * *
Monday afternoon, Reid O'Neill cut his workday short to pay another visit to his oldest friend.
"That certainly is a mighty strange tale." Beau took a slow sip from his brandy snifter. "Ya say this Bruce Hackett checks out as a legitimate attorney, handled Mizz Kirkwood's divorce, and he gave you this information for free? He didn't want anythin' from you?"
Reid snorted. "Now I didn't say that. He clearly wanted some of my legal business and if his tip turns out to be advantageous to us, he may just get some. If he'd called last week, before Junior found the newspaper clippings and those peculiar notations of Mizz Kirkwood's, I might have filed a complaint with the bar association. Today, though, I didn't think we could afford to ignore this additional peculiarity."
"I definitely concur with that. However, as I told Junior, reincarnation is a heathen belief an' we are not heathens. So, Mizz Kirkwood cannot be the reincarnation of Ginger, no matter how much she resembles her. Ah also do not believe Duke McCoy and Jack Templeton could be one and the same. Ah was a witness at his electrocution and Ah assure you, he did not escape from that room. That particular devil was incinerated to ashes because he went straight to hell, where he belonged."
Beau took another swallow of his brandy. "Aside from my disbelief that anythin' supernatural has occurred, however, somethin' unusual is very definitely goin' on with those two people. But there is still a vital piece missin' to this curious puzzle. Let us put ourselves in a hypothetical situation and see what we come up with. If you were an author who wanted to find out about Reid O'Neill's past, particularly regardin' his late wife and the man himself had refused to give you the information you were seeking, who else would you go to?"
"His family, friends and employees."
Beau held up a finger. "But you just made a promise in front of witnesses not to go around botherin' those people with questions and you're a well-known person with a reputation to uphold."
Reid rubbed his jaw as he considered the question then stopped when a disturbing answer occurred to him. "I might try to find Ginger's best friend."
"Exactly what Ah would do. Let's see how right we are, shall we?" He looked up a number in his phone book and dialed.
"Jimmy Joe? Glad Ah caught ya 'fore y'all went home for the day. This here's Beauregard Ramey, Senior, up in Buford. How the hell are ya, boy?"
"Great," Jimmy Joe replied with surprise in his voice. "It's been a very long time. Since my father's funeral, if I recall correctly. How is... everyone?"
"The little woman passed away two summers ago. Her heart just gave out. Junior's still managin' the O'Neill store up here. Ah hear tell the Johnson car dealerships are makin' more money than ever with you runnin' the show. How's that pretty wife of yours doing?"
There was a pause before he answered. "Mary Beth is... as well as can be expected. She keeps busy with her charity work."
"That nervous disorder still givin' her problems, eh? Well, you're a good man for stickin' by her. Speakin' of Mary Beth, would you happen to know if she has had any calls or visits from a couple of strangers, a man and woman?"
"Not that I know of and I discourage her from having company in the house when I'm gone. It seems to... aggravate her problem. Why do you ask?"
"Well, it seems this couple, one of whom is a famous author, has a real big interest in the past, particularly the time around when an old girlfriend of Mary Beth's passed on. This here is mighty important to me, Jimmy Joe. So Ah would sincerely appreciate it if ya'd take a moment of your time to warn that pretty wife of yours not ta talk ta strangers if any should happen ta come around when you ain't home."
"I'll be happy to take care of that, Mr. Ramey. Was there anything else I could do for you? Put you in a new Cadillac perhaps?"
Beau gave a hearty laugh. "As a matter of fact, Ah may be in ta see y'all about that real soon. For now, just have a chat with Mary Beth and say hello to your mother for me when you see her."
Three hours later, Beau received a return call from Jimmy Joe reporting that the couple in question had already visited his wife without his knowing about it. Unfortunately, Mary Beth didn't remember what they talked about. But she did recall that the lady was one of her favorite authors and the man was the nephew of Jack Templeton.
"Another piece just fell into place," Beau told Reid over the phone as soon as he hung up from Jimmy Joe. "It looks like McCoy's motivation for resurrectin' the past is revenge for what happened to his uncle. Her connection is most probably a personal relationship with him rather than Ginger but, nevertheless, neither of them can be disregarded any longer."
"Where do you figure the attorney fits into the puzzle?" Reid asked. "Do you think he's working for McCoy?"
"Anythin's possible but that wouldn't make much sense since his call tipped you off to McCoy's identity."
"Perh
aps that was the purpose—to put a scare into us and check our reaction."
"If it was, your reaction to his phone call was to drop everythin' an' run straight here."
Reid was silent for a moment. "That doesn't prove anything. We visit each other all the time."
"It may not prove anythin' in a court of law but if Ah were McCoy, it would be enough to make me believe that y'all have somethin' to worry about and Ah'm involved in it."
Again Reid paused before speaking and when he did, he couldn't hide the nervousness in his voice. "Even if he is suspicious about our... knowledge of what happened to his uncle, what could he do about it now?"
"Ah have been givin' that some thought. Considering all the pieces we now have, only one answer comes ta mind. Mizz Kirkwood is about ta write a new book, which will undoubtedly become another bestseller and maybe a movie. Her characters' names and the location will all be fictional, so she can't be sued for slander but the story is based on a real crime. Imagine what will happen if she should mention that fact on a talk show interview. How long do you think it will be before another damn reporter puts it all together and starts hounding us for interviews?"
Reid inhaled sharply as a torrent of disastrous ramifications occurred to him.
"McCoy may not be able ta do anythin' ta any of us legally but he wouldn't need to. Ah think they're settin' us up for a public humiliation that could be mighty difficult ta recover from, especially with your bein' in the retail business."
"Oh my. What should I do?"
"Ah think it's obvious that they have both become an inconvenience."
Reid took a slow breath. "Beau, you'd better think twice about the direction you're taking here. Like I've said before, it's not like it was in the old days."
Beau snorted. "You were always the worrier Reid, but you're just as wrong now as you were then. It ain't no different than it was in the old days; only the dates on the calendar have changed. We still have plenty of supporters an' the power is still ours to use as we deem necessary. An' Ah now deem it necessary."
Chapter 18
"That's it!" Kelly announced Monday evening as she typed the last word of her lengthy synopsis. "I think it's good but I'd appreciate it if you'd read it and give me your opinion. Unless you find some glaring hole, I can send it off to New York tomorrow and we can move back to Atlanta permanently." She plugged the laptop into her printer and pressed the print key.
Jack set down the pad he was writing on. "Thank God. I've been trying not to complain but I'm really getting tired of that poor excuse for a bathtub."
She straightened up the files and papers on the table while she waited for the little printer to complete its job. "I'm sorry you had to suffer so much for little ol' me," she said with pretended sympathy. "But I promise to let you bathe in my magical bubbling pool tomorrow night to pay you back for putting up with my eccentricities."
He rose and walked toward her with a sexy grin. "In that case, I'm glad I managed not to complain out loud." He wrapped his arms around her. "I'm happy you finished. I can't wait to read it. And while I'm doing that, there's something I've been working on that I'd like you to—"
A knock on the cabin door surprised them both. Not only was it strange for them to have a visitor, it was nearly midnight. It was too dark to see who it was through the screen and Jack motioned for her to let him go first.
A young black boy was standing there with an envelope in his hand. "You be Mr. McCoy?" he asked.
"Yes," Jack said, opening the screen door to let the boy in.
Instead of entering, the boy held out the envelope.
Jack took it and noted that it was sealed and his name was printed across it in a childish scrawl. He thanked the boy and started to close the door but the boy continued to stand there, staring up at him. "Was there something else?"
"I runs a long way here and now I gotta run home. She said you'd gimme a big tip for bringin' this to you."
Jack glanced at Kelly and shrugged as she went for her wallet. "I'll give you a tip if you tell me who the she was who gave this to you."
The boy fidgeted and looked down at his shoes. "I dunno. Just some lady."
"Young? Old? Dark? Light?"
He screwed up his face as he caught sight of the dollar bills in Kelly's hand. "Um, pretty old and her skin's, um, in-between I think. I don' know her. You gonna gimme that tip, or not, cause I gotta go." Kelly passed him the money and he took off down the road as though his life depended on it.
Jack watched him for a moment then scanned the woods in front of the cabin.
"Open it," Kelly said impatiently.
Jack shut the screen door and carried the envelope over to the lamp with Kelly following closely. Inside was one sheet of plain folded paper with more of the childish scrawl.
I knows who you is and why yor here. I can tell you a big secret but I'm skeered of been caught. Right now I'm hiding in the old Donley barn. I'll stay there for 1 hour and if you don't come I'll go home. It's about a half mile down the road from that cabin gone away from town. Here's a hint—51 years ago I called you and said I was somebody else. COME ALONE AND ON FOOT. If she shows up I aint talking.
Jack and Kelly finished reading and looked at each other at the same time.
"Hannah?" Kelly asked.
"Who else could it be? She's in between light and dark and you said she seemed really tense when you tried to talk to her about her long history with O'Neill. Or it could be a Klan-style trap."
"I'd agree if we'd done anything even remotely suspicious since our lunch with them but we've barely moved."
His mouth turned down on one side. "You think I should go?"
She skimmed over the letter again. "I wouldn't be able to resist if it were me. I'd be afraid but I'd go. Of course, I'd also carry my gun."
"I won't carry the gun."
"Then don't go. If it is Hannah, you can try to catch her during the day sometime."
He ran his hands through his hair. "As a street reporter, I can tell you that stoolies rarely squeal in broad daylight. By tomorrow she'll have changed her mind about talking to me and I'll have missed what could be my one opportunity to learn the whole truth."
"Maybe I could sneak down the road behind you and cover your back."
"Uh-uh. If it's legit, she could spot you and call it off. If it's a trap, they'll just pull you into it."
She touched his face. "Don't go if you think there's even the slightest chance that it's a trap. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you now."
He smiled. "Weren't you the one who was so insistent that we had to find out the truth? What if this is it? The big chance to learn who did what to whom?"
It suddenly hit her how eerily close this was to the circumstances around the fictional climax that she'd just outlined and she knew he had to go as part of his destiny. "If this is the big moment and you discover the truth, it may mean you'll get sent back to the sixties. You'll be outside. Lightning could strike you and—"
"There's not a cloud in the sky."
"And I won't even be with you when you disappear." She gazed deeply into his eyes then took a calming breath. "It's your decision."
"I'm still a reporter at heart. I can't pass up a lead this good. Besides, my gut's telling me that I have to go and it's always steered me right before."
"Just in case, remember my note. And the pass-phrase."
"In my mouth and 'who's on first'. Wait up for me, okay?"
She drew his head down for a long kiss and when she released him, her eyes were glazed with tears. "I'll wait for you, for as long as it takes. But promise me this, even if you get taken back there to stay, when it gets to be August 24, 2016, you come find me."
He tried to laugh. "I'll be ancient by then."
"I won't care." She kissed him one more time then watched him walk out the door.
* * *
Jack couldn't figure out why he was doing this. It was in direct opposition to what he'd wanted to do since he'd land
ed here. He didn't care about the truth. He didn't feel the need for revenge. He didn't want to be hurled back into the stone age of technology. He wanted to stay here, now, with Kelly. So why did his feet keep propelling him toward a situation where the odds were stacked sky high against him?
He heard a sound behind him and jumped. There was enough starlight for him to see that there was nothing in the road he'd already traveled nor in front of him. It was probably a rabbit or a night owl that his footsteps had startled.
His fear rose another notch as he began to realize that there was something eerily familiar about this walk, as though he'd done it before... in the opposite direction... like maybe after he'd been the special guest at a Klan party.
And yet, he couldn't make himself turn around. It was almost as though large hands pressed against his back, pushing him farther and farther along that dirt road.
* * *
Kelly glanced at the clock. Only fifteen minutes had passed, barely enough time for Jack to reach the Donley barn. Why didn't she stop him from going? They could have at least tried to outrun fate. They could have packed up and returned to Atlanta tonight, even started a new life together in another state, far away from Charming and the dark shadows of the past.
She heard a twig snap outside and immediately thought that Jack had changed his mind and returned. Relief filled her mind as she prepared to welcome him back and tell him of her escape plan. She rushed to the screen door but it opened before she got there.
It took her less than a heartbeat to realize that it wasn't Jack but even that slight hesitation was too long.
A man in a ski mask, wielding a large serrated knife, grabbed a handful of her hair. She opened her mouth to scream but the tip of the knife touched her lips and she kept silent.
Adrenaline raced through her blood preparing her to fight back but a wave of the deadly blade an inch from her eyes warned her against such action. Of all the things she and Jack had considered about the note, it had never occurred to them that it was just a ruse to get him away from the cabin so that she would be left unprotected.
Out of Time (Lovers in Time Series, Book 1): Time Travel Romance Page 25
