Both Maggie and Noah stilled in anticipation of a clue. "Unless?" urged Noah.
"Well, I do enjoy a good game of draw poker now and then with a few of our regular guests. I suppose even a very good man could make the mistake of gambling more than he could afford to quickly pay back, and if the debt was to a criminal type..."
"Oh, that's an excellent possibility," Noah said with sincere enthusiasm. "Don't you think so my dear?"
"I believe it would work splendidly in the story." She scribbled a few words on her pad.
"I heard something very curious about this island," Noah said, casually changing the topic. "Is it true you discovered it by accident?"
"A very lucky accident. With all the pirate activity that went on around here in the past, it's incredible no one ever recorded its existence. It's as if it suddenly popped up one day just in time for me to sail into it."
"Have you ever considered the possibility that it wasn't an accident?" Noah asked. "That you specifically were meant to find it and build this beautiful resort?"
Maggie noted the way Robert's expression tightened and sensed that Noah's words held more than a bit of truth for the man.
"I don't see how that would be possible," Robert said with a note of finality as he rose from his chair. "Now if I've answered all your questions—"
"Just one more, if you would be so kind," Noah said then waited for Robert to sit again. "Actually, it's not so much a question as a message."
Maggie narrowed her eyes at Noah, wondering where he was going. Robert looked as though he was holding his breath.
Noah patted Maggie's hand. "It's all right, dear. Remember, Sir Arthur said Mr. Davenport could be important to the movement—"
"Are you referring to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the spiritualist movement?" Robert asked, leaning forward with obvious interest. "I've written to him several times but haven't heard back."
"That's not at all unusual," Noah said. "The only reason we had the pleasure of meeting him was that we just happened to be in New York City when he was there and he allowed us to observe a séance."
Robert's fascinated expression gave him away. "Oh, how I would love to see one of those. Patricia is not at all interested in that sort of thing. Quite opposed actually."
"Oh, that is a shame," Noah agreed. "Sir Arthur was quite generous with his praise of my Maggie's clairvoyant abilities."
It was Maggie's turn to hold her breath. She only knew the name Arthur Conan Doyle in connection with Sherlock Holmes stories. She had no idea what Noah was talking about but she lowered her gaze and tried to look embarrassed by the praise.
"That is most interesting," Robert said in a quiet tone. "But I do hope you will keep that to yourselves while you are here. My wife is not the only one who is suspicious of seers."
"Of course, of course," Noah quickly replied. "It was just that my wife had a dream about you last night and she—"
"You mentioned a message," Robert said, cutting him off.
"Yes, but if you'd prefer not to hear it..."
"I do want to hear it, but whatever it is, I must insist you never reveal it to anyone else."
"Actually, that is one of Maggie's personal rules. She never reveals her dreams to anyone but the person involved. Not even to me."
Maggie covered her surprise with a fake sneeze. They hadn't discussed this scenario, but Noah clearly expected her to improvise.
"I can step outside," Noah offered and got to his feet.
"No, no. That would raise Patricia's curiosity."
"My dear," Noah said to Maggie. "Perhaps you could write the message down for him to read."
Robert bobbed his head in agreement and she forced a tight smile as she tore off a sheet of blank paper. She hesitated for a moment then printed the only "message" that could be connected to their mission:
You were lying on the floor in this suite. Blood all around your head. Someone was placing a gun into your hand, to make it look like suicide. I couldn't see the person who shot you but it was not an accident. Then I saw a calendar with the year 1930.
Maggie folded the paper and handed it to Robert. He read the words she'd printed, stared into her eyes and read the message again before folding it and putting it into a desk drawer. His expression gave her no clue to what he was thinking. "I am sorry to give you such a... strange message, Mr. Davenport, but I'm hoping a warning might prevent it."
"That is my hope as well," Robert said. "I might have dismissed this completely, if it weren't for another young woman approaching me a few years ago. In fact, it was at the Grand Opening. She gave me a nearly identical warning. I had forgotten about it until now. Thank you, Mrs. Nash. I will do my best to make good use of your message."
As he said those words, there was a soft tap on the office door.
"Ah, that will be my ever-punctual wife, reminding me that our time is at an end." He stood, walked around the desk and opened the door, outside of which Patricia was waiting with a slight frown.
Noah and Maggie quickly thanked both Robert and Patricia and left the suite.
Maggie remained quiet during the scary downward ride in the ancient elevator, but not a second longer. As soon as they were beyond the operator's hearing, she murmured, "Mrs. Davenport looked annoyed with us."
"I doubt if it was all about us. I'll bet she was listening outside the door."
Maggie nodded. "He said she didn't approve of his interest in—" She stopped talking as they reached the lobby and found themselves surrounded by a large group of jovial men.
"Let's finish this conversation outside," Noah suggested and she tucked her hand under his elbow.
"Would you mind if we headed back to the bungalow? This outfit is really uncomfortably hot."
There were quite a few couples strolling along the beach, enjoying the last of the day's sunshine. Following their example, Noah and Maggie took off their shoes and stockings and he rolled up his pant legs so they could enjoy the squish of the wet sand between their toes and the waves lapping over their bare feet.
Certain the roiling ocean would muffle their conversation, Noah said, "Sorry about throwing you into the fire back there."
She gave his shoulder a playful punch. "That's for not letting me know you were going to go that way."
He rubbed the spot she hit as though it hurt. "Actually, I hadn't thought of it ahead of time. It just came to me, like a hunch, and I played it. And you never skipped a beat."
She made a face at him. "At least not one he could see."
"What made you flinch up there?"
It took her a moment to switch trains of thought. "Oh. It was strange. Like a feather duster ran along my arm."
"Maybe it was a ghost."
She smirked at him. "Thanks a lot. I really needed you to put that thought in my head." She told him where her mind had wandered right before it happened. "I got the sense that Patricia wasn't entirely happy with being the submissive housewife. I'm not saying she killed Robert but maybe she wasn't all that sad when he died. Maybe she even has an idea of who murdered him—I mean will. This time thing is messing me up."
"Considering his answers, it seemed unlikely that he would take a partner. After money got really tight he might have changed his attitude but he was dead before things got hard here. And I don't think he would take the chance of having an affair with another man's wife. The island is too small and he's too well-known to do something that sneaky."
"He admitted to enjoying a game of cards," Maggie added. "Maybe he caught another player cheating or one of them objected to losing to him."
"That sounds feasible. Maybe we're here at this moment because Robert will meet his killer at tomorrow night's reception. We'll just have to see if anyone stands out or gives you a bad feeling."
Maggie cocked her head at him. "You sound pretty sure we'll get invited."
"I don't see the invite being a problem. I'm more concerned about how we'll get close to the engaged couple and their parents."
"Are you kidding? For the Noah Nash? Unless the Fitzgeralds happen to be here and agreed to attend, you'll be the most famous author at the party. I'd lay odds on there being a mad scramble to adjust the seating chart tomorrow morning."
He laughed. "Intuition?"
She shook her head. "Common sense. And who knows, it could be as simple as one of the parents being the killer."
"In which case, your warning could have been all that was needed for him to be more careful of who he gets involved with."
"Or plays cards with." Maggie stopped walking and frowned.
"What?" he asked. "I can almost see the gears turning."
Her mouth curved into a smile. "He said he was given the same warning a few years ago but forgot about it. What if someone else was sent from the future with the same task, but he didn't pay attention, and the reason we were sent here now was just to repeat the warning?"
He gave her a hug. "In which case, we've accomplished the mission and get to go home. In fact, look where we are."
She looked in the direction he pointed and saw the geode that Reynard had called a portal. "How is that possible? I thought we were walking in the opposite direction."
"Who cares? Let's just grab the chance while it's being offered."
He took her hand and they jogged the short distance to the rock. The setting sun kept the moon from being visible, and yet, there was a definite glow inside the geode's crack.
Maggie smiled up at Noah and he placed their held hands over the crack. She prepared herself for the shimmery sensation that would take them on a return trip through time but for several seconds nothing unusual happened.
Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck directly overhead and a clap of thunder followed close behind. A few drops of rain instantly turned into a heavy downpour and the wind whipped up a funnel of stinging sand around them. Maggie could still feel Noah's hand pressing hers against the rock but she could no longer see him through the blinding cyclone.
Then, as quickly as the freakish storm had started, it stopped.
Chapter 15
"Are you okay?" Noah asked anxiously.
She was drenched and her teeth were chattering but she managed to bob her head. He hugged her tightly against him until the shivering stopped.
"That was..."
"Please don't say cool," Maggie muttered.
He snorted. "I was going to say interesting but that wasn't right either."
Maggie's stomach suddenly felt queasy, which usually preceded something that wasn't right but she was pretty sure it wasn't his choice of words. "Noah?"
"Yes?"
"I lost my shoes and stockings. I know they were in my hand..."
He chuckled and looked around them. "Same here. But I was more worried about holding onto you than a pair of shoes I could replace."
She exhaled heavily and was quiet for a moment before repeating "Noah?"
"Did you lose something else?"
"No. At least I don't think so. But I have a really bad feeling."
He eased her back a few inches and met her gaze. "Yeah. Me, too. But I'm hoping we made it back to our time and there just happened to be a flash storm going through. Do you feel steady enough to walk back to the hotel and find out?"
She took a deep breath and latched onto his hand. "Just don't let go, okay?"
He brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles. "Never."
A few minutes later they were close enough to see a large, structure where the Davenport Resort should have been, but it wasn't the luxury hotel where they had been staying in either time period.
What was in its place was something straight out of a post-apocalypse movie. There were no bungalows or cabanas on the beach. Sections of the building were down to rubble, the domes were gone, only jagged edges of glass were left in the window frames of the section still erect. The carefully attended landscape around the building was wildly overgrown with vines winding their way in and out of every crack and opening.
"Maybe there was a hurricane while we were gone," Maggie offered hopefully.
"This didn't happen in the last twenty-four hours," Noah said with a frown. "Maybe we're in another time period, like after the 1928 hurricane or one of the ones that hit afterward..."
"Or we're in a more distant future when—"
"Stop right there!" a man shouted from somewhere. "This is private property and you're trespassing."
Noah drew Maggie's attention to a loudspeaker high up in a tree. They took a step toward it and a shot sounded.
"Turn around and leave the way you came or the next bullet will be into one of you."
Noah raised his hands in surrender and Maggie did the same. "We didn't mean to trespass,'" Noah shouted. "But we're lost. We just need some help."
Several seconds passed before a man came out of the least damaged part of the building and walked toward them. He was carrying a rifle but it was pointed toward the sky rather than them. His only clothing was a pair of tan shorts. The man was quite tall, with the lean body of a runner. Very light blond hair was tied in a bun on top of his head and he had a short beard of the same hue. The skin on his forehead and cheekbones bore lines that seemed to come from too much sun rather than old-age. The closer he got the more familiar he seemed to Maggie.
"How did you get here?" the man asked in a tone that dared them to lie.
"A life preserver," Noah said without hesitation. "Our sailboat capsized about a mile out. The tide brought us in near a giant rock. The preserver's still there if you want to go—"
"Not necessary. I guess that explains why the two of you look like drowned cats. What it doesn't explain is why you were headed for my island."
"Your island?" Maggie asked with wide eyes. "Are you a Davenport?"
"You say that like you're surprised. Don't bother pretending. If you're another one of my so-called cousins or step-siblings, you can jump right back in the ocean with your preserver and swim home. I won't stop you. But I won't help you either. I've said this a hundred times and I'll say it again. I am not selling the island, nor am I willing to break it up into shares. I don't care what the offer is or how many attorneys bring suits against me. I am not giving up what is mine. Now get—"
"You're wrong," Noah said bluntly. "We aren't part of your legal problems. My name is Noah Nash and this is my fiancée, Maggie Harrison."
Maggie saw Noah rub the spot on his arm where she had punched him and got ready to improvise again.
The man narrowed his eyes. "Noah Nash? Like the author?"
"Not like," Maggie said lifting her chin a bit. "He is the author. And even though we're engaged, I'm still his research assistant."
"Hmmph," the man sounded. "I don't suppose you have any ID on you to prove that. I've read one or two of Nash's books. Not bad, but I prefer stories based in reality. Don't move from this spot. I'll be right back." Without another word, he turned and headed toward the part of the building he had come from.
"Okay," Noah whispered to Maggie. "If he knows who I am, we're at least back to our time."
She made a face. "Or much later, based on the hotel's condition."
At least ten minutes passed before the blond man returned, but they had stayed in place as ordered. At least he had left the rifle behind.
"Okay. You're Noah Nash, or his identical twin."
"Do you have one of his books here?" Maggie asked.
He smirked. "No. I looked him up. There are thousands of photos of him on the net. The fans really love posing with him." He frowned at Maggie. "I didn't see any of you though. Or any sort of engagement announcement. I gather you don't have accounts on any social media sites. You did say Maggie Harrison, right?"
As he began spelling it out she cut him off. "You have internet here?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes. I have internet and electricity and a sewage disposal system that meets Florida's codes. I also have a very advanced security system, which is how I know you're here alone and didn't arrive by boat or helicopter. And you didn't
parachute in. So your capsized sailboat story might be the truth. But I'm still waiting to hear why you're here at all."
Noah let out an audible sigh. "I read an article about Crystal Island and the resort that Robert Davenport had built in the nineteen-twenties and it triggered an idea for a new book. When Maggie did a little research, she found some articles about one of the heirs living on the island and I was hoping to interview that person."
"I'm afraid I don't remember your name," Maggie added, hoping he would finally introduce himself.
It took him a moment to lower his guard. "Paul Davenport." He shook each of their hands. "My brother Brad and I are the only true heirs to the island. I have his power of attorney to do whatever I want here and he manages a hotel in Vegas."
"What about—" She reconsidered what she was about to ask. "I thought there was another grandchild... a woman."
Paul shook his head. "No, there are only two direct descendants left alive. And as long as one of us maintains our residence here, no one can force a sale."
"Not even the State of Florida?" Noah asked.
"Good old granddad may have been certifiable but the deed he created has held up in our favor. What did you want to interview me about?"
Noah paused long enough for Maggie to look at his face and notice how the color had faded from his cheeks and how his eyes had shifted from side to side with an awareness of... something. "Noah?" she said softly. "Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?"
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment then rubbed his forehead. "I, uh, just got dizzy for a second. I'm okay now."
"No, I don't think you are. I'm sure you bumped your head when the boat flipped." Maggie nudged him into sitting on the sand then turned to Paul. "Could we possibly bother you for some water... and maybe some aspirin?"
Paul looked skeptical but he nodded and headed back toward the hotel.
"Are you really okay?" Maggie asked as soon as Paul left.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Noah murmured. "Keep your voice down just in case that sound system goes both ways. I was trying to think of what story I could tell him when it suddenly occurred to me that this could all be our fault."
Some Time Away (Lovers in Time Series, Book 3): Time Travel Romance Page 16
