by J. T. Bishop
Finally, Sarah’s vocal cords released. “Oops.” She could feel her cheeks redden.
“Oops?” said Ramsey. He broke his eye contact with her and made to blot the liquid from his pants. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d been about to stand and deliberately bump into her when the perfectly timed coffee spill had occurred.
“I mean I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” said Sarah, still tongue-tied. “I’m such a klutz. Did you get burned?”
He swiped at his pants again with a napkin. “I’ll live. No permanent harm done,” he replied. “Were you aiming for me?”
“What?” she asked, confused.
“That was a hell of a shot. Guess I should be glad it didn’t end up in my lap. That would have been unpleasant for a variety of reasons,” he said, sounding lighthearted. He noted her stricken face. “Are you okay?” he asked her.
“Um, what? What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, you look a little ashen. You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
“Faint on you?” Sarah asked, finally getting her voice back. “No, I’m not going to faint on you. I’m just so embarrassed. God, I just spilled hot coffee on you. You’re sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine. But does this mean I get a free book?” he asked, unleashing his most charming grin.
“A free book? Why…?” She surmised then that he remembered her from the bookstore. “Oh, sure,” she retorted, surprising herself by playing along. “I’ll buy you a book on homemade remedies. I’m sure there’s something I can find about treating burns.” She finally unfroze and moved out of the way as the busboy returned with a mop and began cleaning the floor. “Or I’ll at least buy you something about avoiding klutzy women.”
Ramsey had moved out of the way as well, and now they stood across from each other. “I prefer the book on home remedies,” he said.
She was unsure how to interpret his answer. She didn’t have to wonder long, though, as Rachel walked up and broke the moment.
“Oh, my! Everybody okay? Sarah, you’re lucky you didn’t fall on your face! Sir, how are you?” she asked with animated concern. “Wait a minute.” She stared at Ramsey in mock surprise. “You were in the bookstore this morning, weren’t you? I thought I recognized you. Sarah, remember?” Rachel grinned at her, while Sarah stared back as only a friend can when they want to strangle you.
“Yes,” said Sarah, flustered. “Yes, I remember him, Rachel. Speaking of the bookstore, we really need to get back, or we’re going to be late. You ready?” she asked with warning in her eyes.
“Yes, I’m ready. You ready? Said all your apologies?” She turned to Ramsey. “You really need to forgive her. She hasn’t been sleeping well.” She avoided Sarah’s look and continued to address him. “It’s no wonder she almost tripped and fell. You’re lucky she and the coffee both didn’t end up in your lap.”
Ramsey smiled. “I think I could have endured it.”
Sarah wanted to melt into the floor. “We really need to go. Sorry again about the coffee. Let’s go.” She took her friend by the arm, but Rachel wasn’t swayed easily.
“This is Sarah, by the way,” she said, “and I’m Rachel.”
“Ramsey. John Ramsey,” he replied. “I’ll stop by the bookstore later to pick up my book, Sarah.”
Sarah looked back at him as she pulled Rachel away. “Your book?” she asked.
“Yes, on home remedies? I believe you offered to buy it for me.” He watched her, waiting for her reaction.
Sarah started to object, wanting to say she wasn’t serious, that he shouldn’t bother stopping by later, but she didn’t. She just looked back and found herself agreeing to it. “I’ll see what I can find for those burns,” she said as they walked out the door.
Ramsey watched them leave. They crossed the street and headed toward the bookstore a few shops down. Something in him stirred. Something he didn’t expect. Silent warnings flared as unexpected emotions surfaced. He stood for a moment, staring, but then he turned and walked back to his table. Leaving the rest of his lunch uneaten, he gathered his things and left.
And at the counter, unnoticed as he sat amid the others patrons and ate his lunch, a gray-bearded gentleman turned and watched him leave.
CHAPTER FOUR
* * *
RAMSEY HEADED BACK to his car, planning on returning to the bookstore around closing, giving him the opportunity to see Sarah again after work if things went according to plan. At the moment, though, he needed some time to sort things out. This assignment was dredging up some long-submerged memories he’d put aside and rarely recalled without absolute necessity. He sat in his car for a while, lost in thought until the ringing of the phone interrupted him.
“Sherlock?” asked the voice on the other end when he answered.
“Leroy. What’s up?” asked Ramsey.
“I need to speak with you privately.”
Ramsey sat up in his seat. “What’d you find out?”
“Not on the phone. Meet me at the house, soon as you can.” And with that, Leroy disconnected the line. Ramsey sighed and looked down the street toward the bookstore and then at his watch. Making up his mind, he started the car and drove off.
**
RACHEL COULD NOT contain her excitement. “I knew it. He likes you! He’s coming by later. You have to be ready.” She signed back in to the register, apparently too distracted to even complain when the computer gave her another error message.
“Ready for what?” asked Sarah as she hung out by the counter with Rachel. She knew Arnie would be watching to see that they were back from lunch on time. She felt hesitant as she prepared to return to the aisles. She had not expected so much to happen during a one-hour lunch break and wasn’t sure what to think about the unexpected turn of events.
“Ready for him to show up, of course,” responded Rachel. “He’ll probably ask you out, get your phone number. What are you thinking? What will you say? He should take you to dinner, someplace nice. Or maybe you two should do lunch, or a coffee break together. That would be good. Help you get to know him a bit. Or dancing! He should take you dancing! That would be great. You need to get out and have some fun. Oh, my God, this is so exciting!” Rachel exclaimed while Sarah looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
“Who’s going out with him?” Sarah asked. “You or me?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think? Let’s see if he even shows up.”
“Shows up?” asked Rachel. “Did you hear him? He was flirting with you. And he wasn’t shy about it either. Oh, he’ll show up. You can count on that. And you better not screw it up when he does.”
“Screw it up?” asked Sarah. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean Ms. Negative Nelly better not appear. Tell him that ‘Oh, it’s not good timing for me. There’s too much going on in my life. I’m not ready to date right now.’ You know, all that crap you come up with when you talk yourself out of something,” Rachel rattled on.
“Well, it’s true. I’m not really ready to date,” said Sarah, but she wondered at the same time if that was accurate. She had not anticipated this, but now that it was here, she couldn’t help but feel a sliver of eagerness. Bits of butterflies stirred in her stomach. She’d almost forgotten that feeling existed. A man had shown interest in her, and a nice-looking one at that. Her mind began to whirl with thoughts. Was this a good idea? Did he really like her? What should she say when he showed up?
“Ladies,” Arnie said as he arrived on the scene. “Glad you’re back from lunch, but it’s time to get back to work please. We have afternoon customers arriving, and they need assistance.”
Both women were startled out of their enthusiastic talk, and reluctantly, they returned to their tasks. Rachel realized that a customer was patiently waiting to complete a purchase and Sarah headed back into the aisles, ready to help where needed, but with thoughts of John Ramsey flipping through her head. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Two hou
rs until her fifteen-minute break, then another two hours before her shift was over. Would he show up? Should she look for him, or let him find her? She made a mental note to head over to the Health section at some point to look for a home remedies book. She sighed and shook her head, trying to clear her brain. It was going to be a long afternoon.
**
AN HOUR AWAY, Ramsey pulled up the driveway of the safe house, hit the button on his visor, and pulled his car into the garage. The house was one of many owned and used by the Council when certain jobs or meetings necessitated a private place to meet. This particular one had frequently been used by Ramsey and Leroy in the past, and it remained their back-up meeting place when conditions warranted.
He opened his door and got out, hitting the button again to close the garage door. He would normally park in the circular driveway, but there were certain instances where parking in the garage provided necessary cover when he preferred not to be noticeable to anyone driving by. And judging by the tone in Leroy’s voice, this could be one of those times.
He walked in through the garage door. Leroy sat at the kitchen table, not doing anything in particular except sitting and watching out the window. His narrow-cut shirt emphasized his large frame and muscular arms and torso, a feature which consistently irritated Ramsey since he’d never once seen Leroy set foot in a gym or do an ounce of exercise.
“Leroy,” he said as he came into the room and sat down next to his friend.
“Sherlock,” Leroy responded.
“Wow, is it that serious?” asked Ramsey. “You’re not your usual vivacious self, my friend.”
Leroy’s expression didn’t change. “I did some digging on your assignment for you. I may have an idea as to why Morgana is so interested in this case. Why all of the councilors are interested.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” said Ramsey. “Lay it on me. What is it that’s got you and Morgana so squirrely?” Sitting there, he could feel Leroy’s ambivalence. They had been friends for a long time, and he couldn’t recall when he’d seen his friend this concerned. Well, there had been one previous time, but that had been a long time ago.
“What did they tell you about her?” asked Leroy.
Ramsey thought about it. “She’s a Gray-Line human, so I’m going to have to be careful not to reveal too much. The Council thinks she could experience some unusual symptoms.” He recalled Sarah’s past from her file. “As expected, her year’s been difficult. Her mother died eight months ago. She lost her corporate job and the family home not long after. For the past five months, she’s been working at the bookstore where her aunt helped her find work. It’s the typical upheaval for anyone about to transition.” He paused. “I was planning on playing this by ear. She could be a simple case, or I might have to get more involved. I’ll have to wait and see.”
He waited for Leroy to say something. “Well?” he asked. “What is it?”
“She’s a Shifter,” said Leroy.
Ramsey stared dumbly at his friend. “Please tell me you’ve got more than that, Leroy, and that I didn’t just drive an hour for you to tell me something you could have told me on the phone. I know that. Why else would the C squad want me on this, when they could have easily gone with another Protector.”
“It’s more than that.” Leroy stopped for a moment, as if unsure what to say, before finally deciding to be direct. “I think she might be a Red-Line.”
Ramsey didn’t say anything. After a moment, his smile broke out, his posture relaxed, and he chuckled. “Leroy, what are you talking about? There hasn’t been a Red-Line in over sixty years. It’s not possible. You know that.”
Leroy did not respond in kind, his expression remaining sober. “It’s possible,” he said. “I haven’t figured it all out yet. Don’t know the how or why, but I think that’s what she is.”
Ramsey sat still, judging whether or not his friend had taken some sort of behaviorally altering substance. He knew of Red-Lines because two of them still lived and were on the current council, although how much longer they would last was questionable. They weren’t spring chickens, so to speak. He tried to imagine how such a thing could happen, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The two still alive were the only ones who’d survived, leaving only Gray-Lines to exist on the planet. Even now, the reason for the untimely deaths of the Red-Lines years ago remained a mystery.
“You’re not making sense, Leroy. If that were the case, the Council would’ve taken her off the streets months ago. They’d be handling it personally. They sure as hell wouldn’t give her to me. That’s the last thing they’d do.”
“Is it?” asked Leroy, leaning forward. “Think about it, Sherlock. They don’t want to draw attention to her. If she is what I think, she’s the first female Red-Line in a very long time. We don’t know what she’s capable of, and likely neither does the Council. The two Reds left remember little from the past and are basically figureheads now. She may be the key to answering questions about our people we wouldn’t even think of asking. If they bring her in and handle it themselves, then likely the word will get out, and then she potentially becomes a target for any loon who wants to see, study, or even use her. It puts her in danger and exposes them as well, especially if they botch it. And why would they handle it? None of them are under sixty-five years of age. Most of them haven’t handled anyone in three decades, and certainly no one like her. They need someone with experience, someone with a background in difficult shifts, and who has a history of stirring up trouble. Someone who…” He stopped and looked at Ramsey.
Ramsey understood. “Someone who won’t get personally involved due to past circumstances, is that it?” He stared back at his friend.
Neither of them said anything until Leroy answered him. “It’s certainly an added bonus in a case like this. You know they’ll have plans for her, and they’ll want as little interference as possible.”
“Then I guess I’m their man.” Ramsey sat still, trying to process everything Leroy said. “And if I botch it, I’m the perfect scapegoat. Is that what you’re saying?”
“That pretty well sums it up.”
Ramsey shifted back in his seat. “You certainly know how to tell it like it is, Leroy.”
“I don’t beat around the bush, my friend. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know that. It’s why I trust you.” Ramsey thought for a moment before continuing. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, still uncertain. “If you’re right, I could be walking into one big mess.”
“There’s too much secrecy about this one. When I went to pull her file, something that should be accessible by me, it was off-limits. When I asked around, I was basically told to mind my own business. The kicker was Morgana and the Council. You said she was there today? Out in the field? When I tried to reach her, they were in their Connection ceremony. She literally got back from speaking with you, and they went straight into their meeting. They rarely get together more than once a month nowadays. I know when something’s up.”
“Yes, but none of that is proof that she’s a Red-Line.”
“No, it isn’t, but when you put it together with the Mirror, then I knew it was big.”
“The Mirror? What do you mean?”
“The Eudoran Mirror? You’ve heard of it, right?” asked Leroy.
“Well, yes, but I thought that was myth, old-timer musings. It’s never been real.” Ramsey struggled to remember the stories his grandmother had told him when he was little.
“I didn’t think so either, at first. But when I couldn’t reach Morgana, I went to see her personally, thinking I could get her to tell me something face to face. When I got there, her sniveling assistant, Jenkins, told me she was in council, something I doubt she would have wanted me to know. When I turned to leave, his phone rang. Based on what I heard him say, I’m sure it was Morgana, but he played dumb. As I walked out, I heard him mention a mirror. Something about that made me perk up, so when I left the office, I stopped just outside the room, w
here I could hear him. He talked with her about removing it from the Council’s private vault. I didn’t hear any more than that. Now that’s either one expensive cosmetic mirror, or the stories are true.”
Ramsey let it percolate. “It’s still a stretch. This could be one giant misunderstanding. She may be just another difficult Shift about to happen.”
“Maybe.” Leroy stared and waited. “But what’s your gut tell you? You called me, remember?”
Ramsey couldn’t deny that, but this was turning out to be bigger than he had anticipated. Even so, and despite the evidence Leroy presented, he still thought it was unlikely. But he couldn’t help but wonder. If it were true, then the repercussions—well, the repercussions were greater than he could imagine. How would he handle a Red-Line Shift? How would she handle it? What would he tell her? Was she in danger? Why didn’t the Council reveal what they knew? There were so many unknowns.
“I don’t know a damn thing about Red-Lines, Leroy.”
“Neither do I, but if that’s what she is, then we have a lot to talk about. We need to make some arrangements.” He paused. “But you need to be sure.”
“To be sure?”
“That you want to do this. You still have a way out, especially after your altercation with Morgana this afternoon. And I know you. If you commit to this, you’ll be there till the end, wherever it leads. You ready for that?”
Ramsey nodded his head in acknowledgement, already knowing his answer. “Regardless of whatever the Council’s got up their sleeve, there’s still the issue of Sarah, who’s about to walk into a much bigger mess than I am, if you’re right. And for some reason, I already feel obligated to her. So yes, I’m in.”
“Then let’s get started.” And without tracking the time, they began the long conversation, comparing what they each knew about Sarah, the Council, Red-Lines, the Mirror, and what steps to take next. Ramsey’s usual style of flying by the seat of pants would not work in this case. If he ever needed a plan, it was right now.
