Out of Time

by Samantha Graves

  “Is Mancuso expecting us?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Back to one-word sentences. “And he likes you.”

  Simon’s lips thinned. “Yes.” Then his eyes cut to the rearview mirror and held for a few moments. “What did the museum say when you asked for some time off?”

  She looked in her side mirror. A string of cars and trucks jockeyed for position behind them on the highway. “I reached my boss on his cell and told him I got an offer to do some fieldwork that I couldn’t refuse.”

  “Good one.”

  Then she turned back to him. “So why the aversion to Mexico?”

  He looked at her and something flashed in his eyes. “Mosquitoes.”

  She crossed her arms. “You dislike an entire country because of mosquitoes?”

  “That’s right.”

  She waited. He didn’t offer up an explanation, so she dove into dangerous waters. “From what I’ve seen so far, it’s quite beautiful.”

  He frowned at that. “No better place on Earth to hide or get killed.”

  She blinked at the bitterness and certainty in his voice. “How many times have you been here?”

  “Enough.” And then silence.

  He didn’t want to elaborate, and that was going to drive her crazy. Not just because he kept his secrets, but because she really wanted to know what would cause a man like Simon to hate an entire nation.

  She checked the glove compartment and found a road map. Matching the road signs to the map, it looked like they were heading south along the coast.

  “I know the way,” Simon told her.

  She countered, “But I don’t.”

  “You don’t like not knowing where you’re going, do you?”

  She folded the map to the section she needed and laid it on her lap. “Would you?”

  He shrugged. “That’s what adventures are. Not knowing where you’re going.”

  She leaned back and looked at him. “So how do you prepare for the unexpected?”

  “That’s part of the adventure, too.”

  “And how do you know you’ll be able to handle the unexpected?”

  “I’m good.” He said it with supreme confidence.

  Despite the fact that she found tomb raiders to be the lowest form of human beings, she was intrigued. “Does it pay well?”

  He hesitated only a moment. “Very.”

  “So that’s why it’s worth the risk,” she added.

  He cast her a quick glance. “I didn’t say that.”

  But you meant it, she thought. It was all about money. No one cared about the past. No one wanted to pay to save it. No one wanted to remember.

  Snoring arose from the backseat, and they both turned around to find Paulie sound asleep amid the suitcases.

  Simon chuckled for the first time since Boston. “That kid can sleep anywhere.”

  “He said it was a fine art.”

  Simon nodded, looking suddenly tired himself. “He’s right.”

  Mancuso hadn’t changed a bit since Simon last saw him. He was still wearing his trademark straw fedora and crisp white suit. Still short. Still smiling. And still trying to charm the pants off the women.

  Simon watched him kiss both of Jillian’s cheeks and felt a twinge of resentment when she laughed. What did he care? She could kiss whoever she wanted.

  He yanked the suitcases out of the back of the Jeep and dropped them on the ground. Water trickled into a round marble fountain in the center of the circular driveway. The smell of lavender filled the air from the gardens. The ivory villa stood proud and solid as ever. The terra-cotta tile roof gleamed in the moonlight. Wide stone walkways welcomed all. The house hadn’t changed a bit, either.

  Mancuso shook Paulie’s hand as they did the usual greeting stuff. And lastly he turned to Simon.

  “Simon!” Mancuso said in a thick Mexican accent and clapped him on both shoulders, shaking him with amazing strength for a man in his seventies. “Good to see you. I heard you retired.”

  “Trying.” He shook Mancuso’s hand. “When are you going to get with the twenty-first century, hombre?”

  Mancuso chuckled and swept his arms wide toward his sprawling hacienda. “And ruin all this? No. No. No. Technology is ugly. Wires and cables and things out of the roof. Ugly. A blight upon the Earth.”

  Paulie looked like he was going to croak on the spot.

  “History is beautiful,” Mancuso said, putting his hand to his heart in reverence. “With the grace and wisdom of a fine woman.”

  Then he winked at Simon, tucked Jillian’s arm in his, and led her toward the arched doorway. She gave him a big smile, and they chatted all the way inside.

  Loaded down with their luggage, Paulie fell in step beside Simon to follow them. They arrived at the cool entry and set the luggage down on the Saltillo tile floor. White stucco walls reached to the soaring plank ceilings with exposed rafters. Dark-stained shelves were crowded with Mancuso’s art collection. Original paintings hung on the walls. Through the French doors, the ocean beckoned like an old friend.

  “Mancuso’s laying it on pretty thick,” Paulie said with a frown.

  Simon eyed him. “Jealous?”

  Paulie looked back at him in disgust. “That’s gross. Jillian is like a sister to me. Which, by the way, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

  Huh. Simon crossed his arms and waited.

  Paulie glanced around to see where she was before starting. “Jillian’s a nice lady. She’s not like, like—”

  “Like me?” Simon prompted helpfully.

  “Exactly,” Paulie said. “If anything should happen to her—”

  “No one’s going to touch her.”

  “Like if someone takes advantage of her,” Paulie overrode him in earnest, “I’d be obliged to do something about it.”

  Simon tried to control the grin that was working its way across his face. “Do something about it?”

  Paulie puffed up his chest. “I might not be the biggest man in this room, but I have ways.”

  Ways. It was all Simon could do not to laugh at 150 pounds of Paulie playing big brother. “Thanks for the warning.”

  Paulie nodded a few times. “And don’t forget it.”

  Jillian’s laughter floated in from the kitchen, followed by the distinctive whirl of the blender. Mancuso’s killer mango margaritas. It was going to be a long night.

  “I won’t,” he said and hitched his head toward the interior. “But you might want to start worrying about Mancuso.”

  Paulie gave the kitchen a concerned look.

  “Find anything on Franco?” Simon asked him.

  Paulie nodded. “Your basic petty thug with a long list of minor convictions. Spent a few years in jail. Mostly for larceny, assault, and possession of stolen property.”

  “Looks like he’s moved up to the big time,” Simon noted.

  “You think he’s the ringleader?” Paulie asked.

  Simon shook his head. “He didn’t strike me as being particularly bright. Definitely a hired hand. But I’ll take whatever you’ve got on him. What about Lance?”

  Paulie smirked at the way he said the name. “Jealous?”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  “I’m still working on him. He just kind of disappeared.”

  Simon was beginning to wonder about good old upstanding Lance. Usually when a man disappeared, it was because he didn’t want to be found.

  Paulie said, “But don’t worry. If he’s still alive, I’ll find him.”

  Simon eyed him. “Someday you need to tell me where you learned how to do all this.”

  Paulie grinned over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen. “No, I don’t.”

  CHAPTER

  9

  At midnight, Simon was nicely relaxed by a few margaritas, a couple of laughs, and some good Mexican food, and he was just getting into bed when Jackson’s cell phone rang.

  His pulse quickened as he riffled for the phone in his duff
el bag. When he flipped it open and checked the incoming number, NO DATA was all it said.

  He hit a button and said, “Hello.”

  “Took you long enough to answer, Jackson,” a male voice said. It was being artificially distorted. Nice.

  “Jackson doesn’t live here anymore. And it would be helpful if you told me why.”

  There was a short pause on the other end. “Who is this?”

  Simon smirked. “A friend of Jackson’s. Now. I want to know if Celina is still alive.”

  The voice was not impressed. “What happened to Jackson?”

  Simon frowned. This guy didn’t know Jackson was dead? “Someone killed him. For the second time, where’s Celina?”

  “How do you know her?”

  Trick question. “I know a lot of things. Last time, before I hang up and you lose all the goodies you’re looking for, let me talk to Celina.”

  The man covered the voice box of the phone for a moment, and Simon could hear him talking with someone else. That meant there were at least two of them. He waited, hoping the kidnappers hadn’t already decided she wasn’t worth the trouble. Celina could be a royal pain in the ass.

  There was a clunking of the phone, and then Celina’s voice. “Hello? Jackson, is that you?”

  She sounded fragile and scared. Simon worked to keep his tone even. “It’s me. Don’t say my name.”

  Celina inhaled sharply when she heard his voice. “Oh, my God. How did you get into this mess? Where’s Jackson?”

  He closed his eyes. “He didn’t make it.”

  “Oh, no—” She started sobbing.

  Crap, he hated when she cried. “Listen, I’m going to get you out of this—”

  She was becoming hysterical. “How? Do you know what they want?”

  “Yeah, I know what they want. I’ll get it.”

  “It’s impossible. There’s no way you can find—”

  She was cut off. Simon heard her scream, and then the distorted voice came back on the line. “That’s enough chitchat. You want to talk to her again, you’ll pick up where Jackson left off. I’ll give you the same deal I gave him. Find me the Archives of Man.”

  Simon asked, “And what do I do when I find them?”

  “I’ll give you instructions when you get close. Don’t lose this phone. You wouldn’t want to get your girl back missing any pieces.” The caller disconnected.

  “Shit.” There was no way this was going to work. The kidnappers would never let Celina out alive. Simon ran a hand through his hair, the sound of her voice still fresh in his mind. She’d driven him crazy when they were married, nearly gotten him killed with her recklessness and greed. But he couldn’t walk away and let her die, either.

  He stared at the phone and the picture of Celina bound and gagged. Then he paged through the phone commands and deleted the photo and text messages. Tomorrow he’d give the phone to Paulie for a few hours and see if the whiz kid could trace that call.

  Any relaxation Simon had gotten from the margaritas was long gone. He rolled his shoulders to work out the tension and walked through the quiet house to the kitchen.

  Simon grabbed a glass out of the sink, rinsed it, and filled it with water. He was just about to take a drink when he noticed someone on the beach. Mancuso’s beachfront was wide and private, but the moonlight outlined a slim silhouette. Every muscle in Simon’s body went to ready mode.

  Had someone followed them from the airport? He’d taken the long way out of Veracruz, hoping to lose anyone who might be on their tail. Maybe he’d missed one.

  The person turned, and blond hair caught in the moonlight.

  “Dammit,” he muttered and slammed the glass to the counter. Was she trying to get herself kidnapped again? Did she have any idea how dangerous it was for her to be out there alone in the middle of the fucking night? That was all he’d need—for her to disappear. Kiss Celina good-bye.

  He slipped out the veranda doors that led to the beach, where she was standing looking up at the moon. A warm gulf breeze swept over him as he crouched through the low grass. Jillian stood a few inches into the surf, wearing a thin robe that wrapped around her thighs and fluttered in the breeze. No one around. No one to hear her scream if someone took her.

  She never heard him come up behind her. He grabbed her around the waist and put his hand over her mouth. He was about to whisper, “This is how easy it would be to kidnap you” when she reacted.

  Her elbow knifed his belly, and her head snapped back to bash him in the nose. Stars and agony shot through his head as he grabbed for his face. His eyes were closed when she delivered the knee to his groin. He went down in a heap of pain.

  For a moment, his brain disconnected from his body, and then Jillian dropped down next to him in the sand. “Simon! What in God’s name were you doing? I thought you were an attacker.”

  He rolled to his side and squinted at her. “Trying to teach you a lesson.”

  She threw her hands up. “What? That you’re a big bully? I already know that. Are you all right?”

  “No.” Blood was dripping from his nose, he might never father children, and his ego was officially beyond repair.

  “Oh, God, you’re bleeding,” Jillian said and touched his face.

  “Just leave me alone for a minute—”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you came up behind me like that—”

  He waved her off. “You didn’t hurt me. And you shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “I know,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Try booze next time. Works for me,” he said and rolled to his side. He wiped blood across his hand. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

  She looked him over with worry and guilt. “I took a couple self-defense classes. I guess they worked.”

  The moon was behind her, making her loose hair glow. Her robe had opened, showing a deep V between smooth, pale breasts. If he wasn’t in so much pain, he’d appreciate the view a whole lot more.

  “Uh-n,” he said and sat up. “Why didn’t you use that on Franco?”

  “He had a gun. That would have been stupid.”

  She helped him up, and he limped back to the house. “I could have had a gun.”

  “You had both hands on me,” she pointed out as she followed behind.

  True. And it had been fun for the split second that it lasted.

  They made it to the kitchen, and Jillian flicked on the lights. Simon winced and settled on a stool. Jillian’s face paled when she looked at him. She wet a cloth with cold water and pressed gently against his bleeding nose.

  Pain shot through his head, and he gripped her wrist. “Easy.”

  Blue eyes met his, so close he could see the pupils dilate. Her breath was deep, and her lips parted slightly when she whispered, “I really am sorry.”

  He completely forgot about his throbbing nose and aching groin. And that was precisely why he got in trouble with women.

  “My own fault for sneaking up on you,” he said. He’d underestimated her again. Yancy would be laughing his ass off if he could see this.

  Simon pried the cloth from her fingers and held it under his nose. “But it’s not safe for you to wander off, babe. Not when we don’t know who’s after us.”

  For once, she didn’t balk at the “babe” part. “I won’t do it again.”

  Then she turned and looked at the sea through the windows. “It’s just so beautiful. I’ve never seen an ocean like that before. I can’t seem to take my eyes off it.”

  She turned back to him, and Simon’s breath caught at the wistfulness in her face and the way it made her eyes shine bluer. He was so screwed.

  “I know what you mean,” he said.

  Jillian sipped her coffee alone on the veranda and gazed out at the Gulf of Mexico. Impossibly blue water met the palest sky far in the distance. Terns screamed and dove over the white sand beach. Waves broke on the shore with a rhythm as old as time. A light breeze carried the sounds of a
n entire ocean. It was one of the nicest mornings she could ever remember.

  Paulie shuffled through the double doors from the kitchen with a big mug and plunked himself down in the chair next to her. He looked groggy and disheveled, wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt and jersey shorts covered with red chili peppers, which he’d obviously slept in.

  “Morning,” she said.

  He opened one eye. “Lost an hour of sleep thanks to the time zones.”

  She laughed. “Is Mancuso up?”

  Paulie yawned. “Passed him in his study. He’s working on the lens.”

  “I hope he finds something,” she said.

  “Me, too. Would hate to think we flew down here for nothing.” Paulie looked at her. “Are you sure Simon’s telling you the whole story?”

  She stared out at the sea. “I hope so. We’re trusting him with our lives.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think that’s much motivation for a man like him.”

  A man like him. A man with secrets. A man with a past that could come back to haunt her. A man she could never entirely trust. The wrong man for her. And yet, she could still feel the warmth of his hands on her belly and her lips. There were times when he actually seemed like a nice guy. And then there were others . . . She shook her head. Men like him didn’t fit well into normal society. Too cynical and too dangerous.

  He can’t be saved.

  She blinked at the last thought. Why would she even think like that? Because her mother had tried to save her father, and look what happened. He’d left, escaping his responsibilities and abandoning her mother and two daughters to struggle financially and emotionally. That would never happen to her again. Simon told her he didn’t rescue, and neither did she.

  She looked up as Simon walked through the doors with a mug of coffee, and her body tensed automatically despite her newfound resolve.

  He sat down, his gaze meeting hers over the coffee, and she winced at the dark circles under his eyes and the slightly swollen nose. Maybe no one else would notice.

  Paulie squinted at him. “What happened to you?”

  He stared at her. “Jillian.”

  Paulie turned to her and grinned. “Cool.”

  She felt awful about it, even if it was his own fault. He had tried to scare the crap out of her and succeeded. At least all that class training had paid off. For a brief moment, she’d felt powerful and strong. And then sick to her stomach.