Glassford Girl: Boxed Set (Complete Series) (Time Jumper Series)

by Jay J. Falconer

  “Sure. I’ll already be there helping the new manager close up for the night. Come around back around eleven. The door will be unlocked. I’ll be in the dining room, probably taking a nap since you’re keeping me up all night,” Jim said with a sharp tongue, hearing a faint buzzing coming through the receiver.

  “Listen, bud. I got another call coming in. It’s the chief. Gotta go. See ya mañana.”

  Alison disconnected and Miller put his phone on the kitchen table. Alice was trying to tell him something with the unnecessary late-night call. There was something behind his words, but Jim couldn’t put his finger on it. If the investigation wrapped up this afternoon, why did Alison wait to call him so late?

  Miller couldn’t decide whether the call was about reassurance, or some type of warning. He pondered the two options as he got ready to hit the sack.

  * * *

  With Derek’s help, Emily ran several blocks north, then they turned west, putting plenty of distance between themselves and the incident with Big Mike. Emily stopped and leaned against the brick wall of an alley to catch her breath. Sirens wailed to the south, heading away from them, toward the east. She assumed they were responding to a call about a body lying dead next to a high-rise.

  “Derek, I just remembered something. I promised my friend Junie I’d come see her at the shelter tonight. I totally forgot about it. Will you walk me there before you head back? She’d be really disappointed if I didn’t show up.”

  “Sure. I think we’re okay. Probably don’t need to sneak around the alleys anymore since it appears we lost them. That’s assuming they were even chasing us. Plus, the cops will be busy for a while trying to figure out the flab on the slab.”

  She laughed, then turned serious. “They were chasing us. You can’t fling their boss from a twenty-story building and not expect to be hunted down like a dog.”

  “Woof!” he barked, trying to sound like a canine.

  “You’re cute, but that’s not funny. I almost died tonight, and all you wanna do is make jokes?”

  “Sorry,” he said with sad, puppy dog eyes. “You know I’m just messing around. Trying to lighten the mood a bit. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for coming to rescue me.”

  “Except, I was a few minutes late.”

  “You were right on time, sweetie. Right when I needed you most. Except for the tripping me part.”

  He laughed. “You totally missed that landing, babe. The Russian judge awards a score of 3.4 for failure to dismount.”

  “Shut up,” she said, slapping him playfully on the arm. “You’re lucky I’m tough.”

  “You’re no girly girl, that’s for sure. Though I should probably steal you a hairbrush.”

  She let out a short squeal, realizing what he was talking about. Her fingers became a comb, frantically trying to style the mop on her head. “Oh my God. My hair. It must look awful. How embarrassing. Don’t even look at me. I’m a mess.”

  “Honestly, it’s not that bad. I still think you’re hot.”

  “More like a hot mess.”

  “A wicked, hot mess. Just the way I like ‘em.”

  “Then you’re totally blind.”

  He didn’t respond, and that made her feel even more self-conscious than she already was, but she let it go. There was nothing she could do about it, for now anyway.

  They walked the rest of the way to the shelter, then stood on the sidewalk across the street, staring at each other.

  “I don’t want to say goodnight,” Derek said in a crisp tone. “Last time I did that, a blob bought the farm.”

  “Me either. But you need to honor your commitment for early release. One of us needs to try to act normal, and we both know that’s not me.”

  He nodded, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug.

  “I’ll be okay tonight. I mean, how many times does a girl have to face a life-or-death crisis on the same day? I think I’m over my limit, don’t you?”

  “No doubt.”

  She gave him a short kiss then pulled back, knowing he wanted more. She took his hand and led him to a bench sitting in front of a rock retaining wall bordering the children’s play park across the street from the shelter.

  “Please don’t be mad at me,” she said, feeling awful for denying him.

  “About what?”

  “When I push you away, it’s not because I don’t want to. It’s because I do want to. Very much. Does that make sense?”

  “I’m okay with slow, Em. I do want to figure this out. How to like . . . be with you without the other stuff happening. But with me in school and chained to a curfew, and you . . . with your . . . situation, how are we going to make this work?

  “I have no idea. But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve always wanted to say this: shut up and kiss me!”

  He did as she asked, but kept it short. Emily stared into his beautiful eyes, wondering how they could ever have a future together, given the crazy circumstances of her life. How can someone who jumps through time have a boyfriend or ever be in love? Why would that same boy want to be with a homeless girl like her? He could have any girl he wanted, so why her? Why take on all the drama and grief? He didn’t have to. He should just run away. Get as far away from her as possible. She was nothing but trouble.

  “What’s wrong?” Derek asked.

  Her lips were trembling and pressure was squeezing her heart. “I hate my life. I hate all of it. I hate what they did to me. Someday, somehow, I will find them and make them pay for what they’ve done to me. And to my mom. And to you. For all of it.”

  He gave her a tender smile, leaned in, and put his forehead against hers. She wanted more. So much more, but she held back. She didn’t have a choice. She started to cry.

  “It’ll be okay, Em. We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

  She had more to say to him but her voice became a stuttering, emotional mess. “It’s . . . just . . . not . . . fair. I want to . . . kiss you so bad, but I really can’t . . . This totally sucks,” she said, as the tears turned into a flash flood, flowing out of her like a dam breaking. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

  “Yes, you can. You’re strong. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. Way stronger than me, or Jim, or anyone else on this planet. What you’re going through is way more than anyone should ever have to deal with, ever.”

  Derek wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, not saying another word. He just let her cry into his chest, and cry she did. She cried for her. For her mom. For everyone she’d ever hurt, and for everyone whom she was going to hurt in the future. This wasn’t over. She knew that. There was more coming. She could sense it when she was alone—curious eyes focused on her, like someone was evaluating, stalking. planning. It was only the hint of a feeling, but it was always there. Hiding in the darkest shadows, just beyond her reach. She couldn’t lock onto it or identify its source or intent, but somehow she knew. It was real. Someone was there, waiting for her.

  Ten minutes later, the tears stopped. She pulled herself together and looked up at Derek. He was her rock. The only person she felt safe with, completely.

  “Thank you. I needed that.”

  “Anytime, babe. But I do need to jet,” he said in a soft voice.

  She kissed him one more time. Just a split-second kiss, then held his hands to her heart. “This is for you. It’s all I have to give. I have no pride. No dignity. And no future. I hope it’s enough.”

  “It is. You make me happy,” he said, kissing her softly on the cheek before he stood up. “Library tomorrow?”

  She nodded and watched him walk away with his head hung low and a slow saunter to his step. The bench kept her sitting upright, and that wasn’t easy with her heart breaking. She wrapped her arms around her herself, trying to keep her insides from exploding. Derek’s every step away felt like a dagger ripping into her, making he
r loneliness and torment hurt even more.

  This is why you never get involved, Em, her logic reminded her. Nothing good ever comes of it.

  But she didn’t care what her brain was telling her. If she had to endure a lifetime of agony in exchange for one minute of tenderness with Derek, she’d take that trade, every time. Sometimes you have to do what feels right, not what you know is right. Now she understood what her mom told her a long time ago. “The heart wants what the heart wants.” She took a moment to file what she was feeling under the heading Desire Trumps Logic, tucking it away in the back of her mind.

  She didn’t move, not until he was completely out of sight. When he was, she stood up and turned her focus to Junie.

  * * *

  Emily found it hard to keep from giggling as she snuck across the family sleeping room of the Phoenix Central Homeless Shelter. Junie had told her it was just temporary—she and her mom were staying there while they waited for placement in public housing.

  It was a snap to sneak into the shelter; Emily had been doing it for a couple of years now. She knew the shelter’s night shift crew had the habit of propping the back door open while they stepped out to take smoke breaks together. All she had to do was wait for the right moment when their backs were turned, and she was in. She took a few minutes to hunt down some clothes and a pair of shoes that fit from the donations room before she made it to Junie’s bed. She didn’t see Junie’s mom anywhere. The bed next to her was empty. Not a good sign.

  She shook Junie gently and whispered. “Junie? Junie? Hey. It’s me, sweetie. It’s Emily.”

  Junie snuggled deeper into her bed, never opening her eyes. While asleep, Junie looked like a precious five-year-old, instead of the budding teenager that she was. Emily thought about letting her sleep, but decided to wake her. She shook her again, a little harder this time.

  “Jooooonie. Psssst.”

  Junie opened her eyes, slowly. She looked at Emily with eyes wide, and squealed. Emily fought back a squeal herself, then put her finger to her lips to shush Junie.

  A woman hissed from a bunk across the open room. “Keep it down over there. Trying to sleep here. Have some respect, for God’s sake.”

  “Sorry,” Emily whispered back to whoever was complaining.

  Junie swung her legs off the bed, gestured to the hallway, and took Emily by the hand. Emily followed, watching Junie’s natural bounce in her step. When they were outside the room, Junie seemed to be wide awake. Her bubbly nature took over.

  “Oh my God, Em! What are you doing here?”

  “I told you I’d come see you. I promised.”

  Junie wrapped her arms around her and squeezed so tightly that Emily thought her ribs might crack under the pressure. She didn’t care. She missed Junie, and the little girl’s genuine affection. She needed it after the day she’d had.

  Junie let go. “We can go to the snack room. The night people should all be downstairs. If we’re quiet, they won’t come up. It’s not like they really want to do their jobs anyway. Sometimes they check on me, but not hardly ever.”

  They walked down the hall and went into a small room containing a wobbly fold-out table, a dented, half-sized, black refrigerator with spray paint graffiti along its side, and an ancient toaster oven that must have been from the eighties—a kitchenette for the homeless—a mishmash of crap nobody wanted and had cast aside. Like her, Emily thought.

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “I don’t know, Em. She wasn’t here when I got back from school. The shelter people said she called and told them she got a job, and that her new boss wanted to try her out tonight. Mom told them to tell me to do my homework and go to bed early. Yeah, like if,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Mom said she’d be here by morning. I’m not so sure about all that job stuff, Em. I didn’t even know she was trying to get a job. I think she’s out with a guy or something. Maybe even getting high again.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  “Oh well. It’s my mom. Nothing surprises me anymore. The good news is—you can sleep in her bed! Right next to me!”

  “That would be nice,” Emily said, rubbing her temples. A mild headache was starting and she needed a good night’s sleep.

  Junie put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “But first, I need to find you a comb. That hair, Em. We have to do something about that hair.”

  “I know. It’s awful,” Emily said, ducking and covering her head with her hands.

  It didn’t take Junie long to return with a brush. She sat behind Emily and ran it through her hair while they talked, catching up on girl stuff for the next half-hour. Then they both yawned, and snuck back into the sleeping room.

  Emily crawled onto the rickety cot next to Junie’s, watching her tiny friend snuggle under the covers and close her beautiful little eyes. Eyes that never seemed to get distracted or depressed by life’s endless drama. Junie’d had her share, but none of it was her fault. She was a tireless champ. Someone Emily admired, and couldn’t help but love and want to protect.

  Derek had said earlier that he thought Emily was the strongest person on the planet, but he was wrong. The strongest person she’d ever met was sweet, adorable Junie and her electric smile and infectious joy for living. The tiny girl who seemed to be okay with her twisted, messed-up life and all the turmoil that came with being the daughter of a single mother with serious man and drug problems.

  “There’s always someone worse off than you,” she mumbled. “And age has nothing to do with it.”

  “What?” Junie said in a slow whisper.

  “Never mind, baby. You sleep now,” Emily said, brushing a few stands of Junie’s hair out of her face. She pulled the covers up until they were just under her friend’s chin. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  * * *

  Jim Miller had been sleeping for about half an hour when the buzz of his cell phone on the nightstand next to his bed woke him up. He groped for it, groggy and mentally slow, fumbling around in the dark. He pressed the button on the side of the device, lighting the phone’s display. It was Alison. Jim swiped the answer button and held it to his ear.

  “Alice, what the hell? Again?”

  “Millsy, you tell me—what the fuck? Tell me why I’m standing outside a building not far from your restaurant in the middle of the damn night, looking at one dead wannabe biker asshole and talking with one skinny fuck who’s spinning a wild story about a redheaded teenage girl tossing his three-hundred-pound boss out a twenty-story window?”

  “Emily?”

  “Yep. The Glassford Girl strikes again. Only this time, a bloody pile of shit got in the way.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The next morning, Emily tossed on the cot, tangling her arms and legs in the single sheet provided by the shelter. She had been asleep, but the sudden snort of the old man snoring two cots over woke her up.

  After Junie fell asleep earlier that night, it had taken a while for Emily to drift off into dreamland, even though she was exhausted and couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open anymore. Her brain just wouldn’t shut off, constantly flashing images of Derek, the dead biker, the Orange Man, the explosion, the golf course couple, and everything else that had happened that day.

  It was almost too much to believe and was completely surreal. Almost as if she were living out her life on the set of some cheesy science fiction movie, or she was stuck running around in the pages of some paperback. But it was her life. Every miserable second of it.

  She’d finally drifted off thinking that for the first time she was truly, one hundred percent boy-crazy, on the verge of having a typical teenage girl’s total spaz attack. She’d witnessed them many times before the night of The Taking. Her best friend, Stacy, used to freak out all the time over the dumbest things boys would say and do. She’d seen just about every girl at school go through complete emotional meltdowns over the tiniest events related to boys—getting asked out on dates, getting asked to prom, first kisses, first touches, fi
rst blowjobs, first . . . everythings. Their entire lives revolved around boys and talk of sex. They were obsessed.

  If she only knew then what she knew now, she’d set them all straight and show them what real life is all about. Life is twisted and mean, never taking its eyes off you. It beats on you until it wears you down, until there’s nothing left but sun-bleached bone. Everywhere she looked, she could see that exact sentiment in the eyes of the walking zombies around her. So much misery and pain.

  She couldn’t believe how much things had changed recently since she’d first met Junie. One minute she’s flying solo and surviving, all the while living under the radar and following her rules. Now she was completely off the rails, letting her dreams, her thoughts, and her desires get in the way, constantly putting her in situations that made her blush. She was becoming obsessed. With a boy. A beautiful boy named Derek. And with the idea of sex.

  Then she remembered something her mother used to say to her. “It’s okay, honey. It’s all just part of growing up.” She smiled and rolled onto her back, letting herself begin to wake up with thoughts of her mother’s arms and voice cradling her, keeping her safe. She felt a warm vibration on her belly.

  Emily opened her eyes, praying she wasn’t actually in the last embarrassing situation that her dreams had placed her in earlier that night: at the prom, with a huge rip down the back of her dress, completely exposing her butt—mom’s hug or not, it was totally embarrassing.

  She almost screamed in delight when the first thing she saw was an orange and white tabby cat asleep on her tummy. It was the same kitty she’d first met in a computer carrel in the Burton Barr Public Library, and last seen while hiding behind a disabled UPS van.

  It was Shroedy! An impossible cat in an impossible location. She was so happy she wanted to cry. Things you can’t control, she thought: the quantum kitty welcoming committee.