“How could you not? It is one of the best-known stories of accidental time travel. How true it is? Well... that’s anyone’s guess.”
“What happened?”
“It was an experiment done by the US Government back in the 40’s before or during WWII. I can never remember exactly when,” she said, sitting back. “The experiment was centered on using a cloaking device to make a ship invisible to an enemy radar. Unfortunately, something went terribly wrong. The ship not only vanished from Philadelphia but reappeared in Norfolk... 10 seconds later. Some of the crew members were physically fused to the bulkhead of the ship. Others developed mental disorders. A couple disappeared completely. Some of them reported traveling into the future and back.”
“No way! How have I never heard this one?” Rowan exclaimed.
“Well, there’s still some debate over whether it really happened. The government disavows any knowledge.”
“Of course they do,” Rowan shook his head. “We need to put that one on our list of mysteries to explore.”
“Well, since we can’t work on the Investigation That Must Not Be Named, we might as well work on something else,” Lauren said.
“Since we’re on the subject,” Rowan said. “What do you know about the physics of time travel?”
“Some scientists think using faster-than-light-travel is feasible to journey back in time. If you think about it... if time slows as an object approaches the speed of light, then exceeding that speed causes time to flow backwards, right?”
“So now you’re some kind of physicist? Who are you? Sheldon Cooper?”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Then I guess I won’t get into theories on warp speed technology and how accelerating an infinite mass any faster than light speed is impossible.”
Rowan grimaced in disbelief. “Thank you, Mr. Spock.”
“It’s okay honey. It’s just rocket science. Not everyone gets it.”
She rose and went into the house. Unable to stand it any more, she walked straight into the kitchen, and took out her favorite coffee cup. She blessed the cup with the crème brûlée creamer before filling it with coffee. She stood at the counter, taking a few tentative sips before she tipped the cup back and drained it completely.
Rowan followed her into the house and stood back watching the scene. She put her cup in the sink and headed to the bedroom. Rowan refilled his cup and followed her, finding her struggling to tie her bikini behind her back. He took the strings, tying it for her. He paused to kiss her copper shoulder. “Are we going to the beach?”
“Yes, please.”
Rowan grinned. “I haven’t seen you in your bikini in a while.” He ran his hand over the swell of her abdomen. “I like it like this.”
“I feel fat.” She grunted, sticking out her belly purposefully.
Lauren might have thought of herself as fat, but all Rowan saw was beauty. He said as much. “Besides... you’ve gained what? Less than ten pounds,” he said. “At least five of that is baby.”
“My belly button’s going to pop like a turkey timer any day now.” She rubbed cocoa butter over her skin that was stretched tight. She was carrying in front. Her hips were still narrow. Her bosom strained the ties of the bikini top.
“You know what sounds good?” He hugged her from behind as he took over the job of rubbing the cocoa butter in for her.
“What?” She smiled at his reflection in the mirror.
“A box of fried chicken and some biscuits,” he said. “We could have a picnic on the beach.”
“Mmm,” Lauren said. “But isn’t it a bit early for fried chicken?”
“It’s almost eleven,” he said. “By the time we get food and get settled on the beach, it’ll be lunch time.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” Lauren said. “Get your swim trunks on and let’s go.”
* * *
Lauren tied her sarong around her waist, then gathered up her beach bag, and slipped into her flip flops. Rowan came out in his baby blue swim trunks and a white t-shirt. He slid his feet into his sandals. “Ready?” She smiled, reaching for the door.
A man in a black suit stood in the arched entryway, reaching for the doorbell. He startled and quickly recovered. “Agent Miller?”
“Dr. Grayson?” He took off his sunglasses.
“It’s Pierce now,” she said. “Dr. Pierce.”
“Congratulations.” He offered, brightly.
Lauren stepped back. “Come in,” she insisted, as Rowan shook the FBI agent’s hand. They hadn’t seen Andrew Miller since the incident in Washington.
“Double congrats!” He grinned at her protruding tummy.
“Thank you,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”
“I wish I could say this is a social call,” he said. “But I’m afraid it’s business.”
“We were just going to go down to the beach, but...” Rowan said. “We can go later.”
“Please, have a seat.” Lauren motioned to a chair. She sat down on the sofa. Rowan sat beside her. “We’ve been expecting a visit from authorities, but... we weren’t expecting it to be someone we knew.”
“I understand you had a run in with a fugitive down in Mexico,” Miller said, taking out his note pad, and a picture. “Is this him?”
Lauren and Rowan examined it. It was more current than the mug shot Lauren had found online. “Yeah,” Rowan said. “He claimed to be an archaeology professor from the University of Mexico. I spent several days working with him at Chichén Itzá.”
“Do you know who he is?”
“I do now,” Rowan said. “Lauren was working at home and figured it all out.”
Miller turned to Lauren. “Are you sure we can’t convince you to come work for the FBI?”
A wry smile crossed her face. “I’m flattered. But I’m fixing to take a hiatus from the job I have.”
“If you change your mind, let me know.” He grinned.
“So why is the FBI working on this case?”
“About a year ago, I transferred to the FBI’s International Violent Crimes Unit. My father used to be the Special-Agent-In-Charge, and I always wanted to follow in his footsteps.”
“I don’t guess I’ve ever heard of that division,” Lauren said.
“We oversee criminal investigations of international kidnappings and hostage-takings. Our main goal is the recovery of kidnapping victims. We pick up a lot of business in Mexico and South America, as you might imagine.”
“Makes sense.”
“Once we return the victim, our secondary goal is the prosecution of the bad guy. We never did recover the victim, even though we prosecuted the suspects. Since my father worked on this case back when Stephanie Wentworth was kidnapped, someone in authority decided I should follow up on my father’s work. I’m happy to take the case. I want to see my dad’s work completed.”
“Your dad worked the Wentworth case?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “He retired from the FBI three years ago.”
“We think Rowan saw Stephanie Wentworth,” Lauren said, noting the look on Miller’s face.
“She was presumed dead after... her body was never found.”
“After she parachuted out of the plane over the Yucatán Peninsula?”
“Yeah. It’s been twenty-some years since anyone has seen her.”
“Been almost as long since anyone saw Santiago Mateo,” Miller said.
“Since he escaped from a Mexican jail,” Lauren added.
Miller’s smile told her he was impressed with her knowledge of the case. “So you heard about that?”
“We’ve put in a FOIA request for the NTSB report on the plane crash,” Lauren said. “We haven’t had any luck.”
“Well, if she’s alive, my question is, where’s she been all this time?” Miller said, thinking aloud. “You don’t think he’s still tryin’ to find her?”
“Or the ransom,” Lauren offered, not sure how much to tell him.
“If our suspicions are correct he found her,
” Rowan said, with a side-long glance at his wife.
“Can you help us with the FOIA?” Lauren asked.
“I’ll see if I can’t get it for you,” Miller said. “I did get my father’s files. There’s evidence that suggests the plane changed altitude not far from Chichén Itzá. It slowed. We believe that was where the engine trouble began.”
“If the engine was already on fire at that point, wouldn’t it have been a perilous jump for someone with a parachute?” Rowan asked.
“Depends on which engine,” Miller said.
“If someone was desperate to escape, they might be willing to take a chance,” Lauren said, thinking aloud. “I keep running it through my head. What I would do if it were me... everything I’ve read about Stephanie tells me she was a pretty strong young woman. Stubborn to a fault. Independent... brave.”
“Sound like anyone we know?” Rowan tilted his head towards his wife.
“That was my assessment too,” Miller said.
Lauren glanced at Rowan, then turned to the agent. “So how can we help the FBI find Stephanie...Mateo?”
“I’d ask you to come with me to Mexico, but it doesn’t look like you’d want to do any traveling right now.” He glanced overtly at Lauren’s stomach.
“No,” Lauren said. “I’m on restrictions until the baby arrives in February.”
“Think you’ll make it that long?” Miller made a face.
Lauren couldn’t decide for a moment if she should be offended or take it as a compliment. “That’s the goal,” she said.
“Then I have an alternative proposal,” he said. “With approval from my superiors, I can designate you as a special government employee. I can authorize you to help me review records and files. If you’re willing and able.”
“Really? That’s an actual thing?”
He nodded. “It is,” he said. “It doesn’t give you any authorization to act as a law enforcement officer. It doesn’t come with any pay, but it does allow me to swear you in. It requires you to hold everything you find in the strictest of confidence. You report directly to me. You can’t discuss your findings with anyone else.”
Rowan stood, pacing behind the sofa. “Wow, I’m kind of jealous.”
“Don’t be,” Miller said. “I’ve got a job for you too.”
Chapter 20
“You’re going back to Mexico?” Jean-René asked. “What does Lauren think about that?”
“She’s not happy about it. She knows she can’t go. She also knows I don’t have a choice.”
“I can’t believe the FBI is ordering you to leave the country.” Bahati scowled.
“I’m just glad they’re letting us work our own investigation,” Rowan said. “Look, I need you guys to keep an eye on Lauren while I’m gone. I don’t expect to be down there more than a week or two at the most. I fully intend to be back before she goes into labor. I will be here for my baby’s birth.”
“Of course. We’ll make sure Lauren’s okay,” Bahati said. “If there’s anything you need, all you have to do is ask.”
Rowan nodded, as she went over to sit with Lauren on the patio at the restaurant overlooking the harbor. Jean-René caught his sleeve. “Something is bugging me, boss,” he said.
Rowan looked at him dubiously. “What is it?”
“Ever since Mexico, I’ve had this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. I just can’t shake it,” he said. “The fake Dr. Rick was pretty insistent that we get that ground penetrating radar. I thought it was odd at the time that a big university like his didn’t have access to one. Now that we know what a fraud he was, I have to wonder why it was so important.”
Rowan had to think about that too. What major University didn’t have a ground penetrating radar? He’d thought that at the time Slick Rick had asked if they had one or could get one. He’d made excuses that the other teams had already hoarded all the good equipment and the only one he had left was in pieces on a workbench in the engineering lab while they tried to figure out how to fix it. It also occurred now to Rowan that Enrique DeLaFuentes didn’t introduce them to any of his fellow research teams. Now that he thought about it, Enrique seemed to intentionally avoid them. “You think maybe he was looking for something? Not like something archaeological?”
“Who knows?” Jean-René scoffed. “It may be nothing, but... it keeps bothering me. That makes me think it’s important.”
“I’ll see if I can’t get some answers for you on that,” he said, patting Jean-René’s upper arm. “Keep an eye on Lauren.”
“I will,” he said. “Come on, I’ll buy you a margarita.”
“First round of tacos is on me,” Rowan retorted.
“So when do you leave, Rowan?” Bahati asked as the men joined them at the table.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“Man, they aren’t wasting any time. Are they?”
“Time is one thing we don’t have much of,” he said. “We’re losing evidence with every passing day.”
“The sooner he gets down there and helps them figure all this out, the sooner he can get home,” Lauren said, her hand went absentmindedly to her abdomen.
“What? Three more weeks?”
“That’s minimum,” Lauren said. “I’m not due until February.”
“Well,” Jean-René raised his glass. “Here’s to mysteries to solve, and margaritas to drink.”
“Slainté,” Lauren said, raising her water glass.
“Slainté,” Rowan rolled his eyes. Now she knew Gaelic too?
“Taco Bueno,” Jean-René joked.
Rowan sat down his glass abruptly. “That bastard got us drunk...” he said out of nowhere.
“He got you drunk,” Jean-René said.
“Why would he get you drunk? And more importantly... why is that important?” Bahati asked.
“Dammit,” Rowan sat back in his chair. “He grilled me about everything from how the GPR worked, to...” his face went red. “I told him all about Stephanie. Dammit all to hell.”
“Do you think he already knew about her? About what happened to her?”
“He might have had some theories. I found an old article that had speculated about where searchers had looked for her— or her body—and he asked a lot of questions about the investigation to find her, and how long they looked and where they searched...”
“Okay, here’s a question,” Jean-René said. “Do you think it’s even remotely possible that she sabotaged the airplane in an attempt to escape?”
“I mean, anything is possible,” Bahati said. “But would she have that kind of skill set?”
Lauren lifted a shoulder. “No telling.”
“I’ll see what I can find out when I get there,” Rowan picked up his glass again. He looked around for the waiter. “So, what’s a guy got to do to get some tacos around here?”
* * *
Rowan was up before dawn. He was quiet in his efforts to shower, dress, and pack the last of his supplies and equipment. He always did his best to travel light. But going solo meant he had to carry everything he would need. Loading up extra equipment made it difficult.
When everything was packed, he sat his bags by the front door. He went back to the dresser and picked up his wallet and pocket change. He checked to make sure he had his ID and some cash. Then, he paused and put on the necklace with the compass on it, before putting on his wedding ring. He grabbed his sunglasses and passport, tucking them into his jacket pocket.
He hesitated a moment at the door. He came back to the bed where his wife slept, leaning down, he kissed her head. She smiled in her sleep. He watched her for a moment. A sense of melancholy washed over him. He hated having to leave her, but what choice did he have?
He rose, halted by a hand catching his shirt. She pulled him back down as she rolled onto her back. Lauren pressed her lips to his. He snaked his hand over her stomach. “I love you,” he said, when her lips released his.
“Come home safely,” she said. “The last thing we need is you
locked up in some Mexican jail or lost in the jungle.”
He grinned nervously. “I’ll be working with the FBI. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Got the sat phone?” She asked.
“It’s in my pack,” he said. “Call if you need anything.”
“Hurry back.”
Rowan kissed her again. “I will.”
* * *
Rowan shouldered his pack, gathered his things, and slipped out silently. The Uber driver was waiting for him when he stepped outside. Before the sun even rose, he was off to the airport. The refrains of John Denver’s Leaving on A Jet Plane echoed in the back of his mind. Oh babe, I hate to go.
After getting through security, he stopped and got a muffin and a cup of coffee. He found a comfortable spot and took out his iPad. He set to work on notes for the post-production script.
He could hear Marlon Perkins in his head when he was doing voice-overs for his episodes. He grew up watching Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. It was one of the reasons he loved doing a show like The Veritas Codex. While Marlon talked about lions and zebras, Rowan got to talk about Bigfoot and Chupacabra.
As a young man he’d join the military because he’d wanted adventure. He discovered that sort of adventure was a little more than he was able to handle. He liked being a medic. He liked helping people. But when he realized he was spending more time with a gun in his hand than his first aid kit, it started to weigh heavily on him. The more time he spent in combat, the more futile it all seemed. He began to question his career choices.
After he nearly got blown up by a roadside IED, he was ready for retirement—the sooner, the better. He got his honorable discharge. They even pinned a couple of medals on his chest. The best part of the deal was the one-way ticket home to Colorado. Life was peaceful. It was safe—and completely boring.
Meeting Lauren had been the best thing to ever happen to him. She’d introduced him to a world of exploration, excitement, travel—a new kind of adventure. He hadn’t been shot at in a long time. While his skills as a medic were only of occasional use, his creative writing, and other gifts made him a valued member of the team.
He also fell in love with his co-host. While the relationship had been rocky at times, most of the turmoil stemmed from her desire to keep it under wraps for so long. Neither of them was a good enough actor to hide the attraction. Now that they were married—with a baby on the way—he didn’t have to.
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