by Jill Cooper
I have to know.
“The night before we were set to leave, someone broke into our apartment. Lara got up to go the bathroom…” Miranda’s lip quivers. “Wrong place, wrong time, that’s what everyone said.” Her eyebrows furrow and the anger she feels is palpable.
Is Patricia that big of a monster that she would have killed Miranda’s child in order to control the woman? I’m not sure myself, but it’s clear Miranda believes it.
“We stayed to bury our daughter and then…I couldn’t leave Rewind if they were behind Lara’s murder. Since then I’ve been trying to get evidence. John thought I was crazy, obsessed. He left and moved to Chicago. Barely takes my calls anymore but I’m getting closer.”
Bitterly, Miranda pushes her coffee away.
“Do you have any proof? Have you ever found anything?”
She shakes her head. “They’re good at covering their tracks, but I’ve been building a case.”
“What kind of case?”
“What we do at Rewind. It isn’t just memory restoration. We’ve been looking for someone who can move through the past and change things.”
I furrow my brow. “We can’t interact with the past.”
Miranda raises her eyebrows. “A lie. We can, but it destroys the brain if you change too much. That’s what the memory storage program is really about; finding someone who can change the timeline. Someone who can manipulate time and make sure Patricia rises to power. That’s why I’ve had to be so careful.”
Her story has begun to sound like that of a woman coming unhinged. Is it possible any of this is true, or is it a mental break for a woman consumed with grief for her daughter… The same daughter I’d had a flash of on her wedding day?
It adds up to something, but I don’t have the right answer.
“What do you want to do?”
Miranda sighs. “I want her to pay for what she’s done. Her and Rex, her partner in crime. I have enough information now that proves Patricia isn’t just doing illegal experiments. She’s messing with the timeline.”
“What proof?”
She blinks and stares at me. “You. You’re the proof.”
****
It’s like I’ve been slapped. “Me?”
Miranda nods. “Test Subject Number One is…special. She knows things she shouldn’t. She spouts on about the changes to the timeline. I don’t know who she is, or where she’s come from, but Patricia hovers over her like she’s a priceless jewel. She makes sure no one else talks to her and when she wakes up, Patricia sedates her again. Patricia is afraid of what the girl will say.”
I stiffen and sit up straighter. What does any of this have to do with me?
“Last time I took her vitals she told me she’s my daughter. I thought it was just ravings of a young girl who has had trauma, but she is the spitting image of Lara at her age. She said she knows you. That you’re from the future and that you’re my great-granddaughter.”
Laughter trickles out of my mouth. “How is any of that possible?”
“I don’t know, but it would prove that Patricia is messing with time travel.”
I shake my head. It’s all too much to believe.
Miranda senses my distrust and leans forward. “We have a girl here with a brain pattern unlike any I have ever seen. She affects time unlike anyone, easily, almost innately, and she has no physical symptoms other than she seems to know what could happen, what should happen, and what will happen, at a moment’s notice. Patricia wants to use her. She has no past, just like you don’t.”
I blink. “I have a past.”
“Do you? Before the police force? Parents? College? Do you know any of that?”
“Of course, I do. I’m from New Hampshire. Don always teases me about being a hick. My mother owns a small store in Conway. I grew up skipping up and down Main Street. I—”
I squeeze the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. It feels like I’ve been underwater too long as a flash of black hits me. I’m in a different time and place that gives me the sense that it’s a long time ago. I can’t see anything, but I can hear the squeaking of wheels, maybe a gurney being pushed down the hall. Up ahead, bright lights blind me and I hear that voice, the one like honey. It twangs with a British accent.
Rex smiles down at me. “So, we meet again, dear Cassidy. In a different time, maybe you’d call me friend.”
He slips a needle beneath my skin and my back arches. I toss my head and scream. Patricia smiles at me as she slips both of her hands against my cheeks to hold me still. “She’ll give me beautiful grandchildren, beyond what Lara ever could have.”
Rex’s laughter coos. “With a time-travel gift that’s evolved for decades past what Lara and Molly can do.”
It’s the last thing I hear before the memory fades. I stand up from the counter so fast I knock the barstool down. Miranda’s reels as she spins toward me. “What is it? What do you remember?”
It can’t be real, it just can’t.
I grab my purse off the counter and run out of there. I can’t stop running, just as I can’t believe what I’ve seen.
I won’t.
Chapter Nineteen: Cassidy Winters
I head back to work despite my raging anxiety and fear. If I don’t return, Don and Patricia will both have questions I’m not ready for. The answer is something even I don’t understand and I’m left with two options.
Either Miranda has been driven crazy with grief and a personal vendetta against Patricia. Or she’s telling the truth.
Neither are good options.
In the security office, I bring up my calendar to try to center myself and to remind myself I have a job to do. I take a deep breath and reach for my coffee. I’m surprised to find it’s already cold. Have I really been back here that long?
Glancing at the clock, I see an hour has already passed. But how it that possible? I had just sat down, hadn’t I?
I sigh and rub my face. The stress of meeting Miranda, of everything she’d said, is taking its toll on me.
“Well, there you are.”
Rex’s voice scares me and I jump, spilling coffee all over myself.
“Goodness, I’m so sorry to have startled you.” Rex picks up a few napkins off my desk and moves to clean my blouse. “Let me help you.”
I push my chair back to get away from him and he advances aggressively. Left with little choice, I grab his hand. “I can take care of it.”
Rex’s eyes widen with surprise but a slow smile spreads across his face. It unnerves me and a feeling of electricity passes between our skins. It was him. He’s done it, sent the sparks of energy into my skin, but I don’t know how..
And then, I’m no longer sitting at my desk. Instead, I’m inside a clear, plastic cage. I’m on my knees and there’s a collar around my neck, and one encircling my wrists, keeping me in place.
Someone walks around me and he uses an electrical baton against the bare skin of my back. The pain rages from that one central point to everywhere over my body.
It’s all I can think of as a male’s voice says to me, “Lara is your enemy. Lara destroyed your life. Now you’ll destroy her. Not just for me, but for you.”
I gaze into his eyes and see that it’s Rex.
As I scream, my surroundings change and I’m back at my desk and holding onto Rex’s wrist, tighter than before. His smile morphs into a scowl as he tries to pull his arm free. I stand up, rush him and pin him against the wall of my office.
“Cass—” I don’t give him the chance to say anything else. I force my arm under his chin and throttle his head back.
I snarl. “What the hell did you do? What kind of game are you playing?”
“It was just coffee,” he chokes the words out. “I was wondering why you missed the meeting—”
I don’t believe him. He’s up to something. I position my foot on the inside of his leg to stabilize him as I ram his head into the wall. “You know something.”
“I know a lot of thin
gs. I’m afraid you’ll have to be a lot more specific.”
“Cassidy!” Two of my security guards come in and remove me from Rex. They hold my arms tight and I fight against them. Traitors.
Rex rubs his neck and fixes his suit.
“Are you all right, Mr. Montgomery?” Thomas asks.
He nods. “She’s unstable. See to it that she’s removed from the building until further notice. Gather her credentials. I don’t want to see her face again today.” Rex shifts his eyes to me. “Patricia will hear about this outburst. I always knew you were a calculated gamble. You just proved you were not worth the risk.” Rex struts out of the room, adjusting his tie, smugly glancing back like he’s won.
Maybe he is.
I shove Thomas off of me and glare at both him and Fabian. “We’re going to need your security passes and your gun.” Thomas extends his hand. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Just like that, huh?” I hand over my badge and security pass. When it comes time to hand over my gun, I feel greater remorse. Without it, I’m less protected. Powerless.
“It’s the job,” Thomas says sadly.
“There’s more important things than the job,” I whisper and head out of Rewind for home. But it’s not over yet. Far from it.
****
At home, I prepare for what Don might say. I order Chinese food and open a bottle of wine. I even change into his favorite red slinky dress; he likes the way it sets off the highlights of my hair. I just hope that when I get to the bottom of what’s going on, he’ll trust me. He’ll stand by me.
His mother isn’t a good woman; something I had known all along, but to know she was capable of murder. Of harming children…
While I wait for Donovan to arrive, I look up John Crane in Chicago. It turns out he’s a science fiction writer now, doing pretty well for himself. It takes some digging but I find his cell phone number and dial.
“Who is this?”
“I work with your ex-wife and would like to corroborate a few points with you if I may.”
“You a cop or something? You talk like one.”
“Once.” My stomach sinks. “Mr. Crane—”
“I’m in Boston now for a conference. I can meet you tomorrow, if that’ll suit you.”
I nod with relief. “That’d be perfect. Thank you.”
“Is Miranda in some sort of trouble?” John asks with genuine concern.
I want to make sure he doesn’t worry or do anything before we get a chance to talk. “No, of course not. It’s not like that. I’ll explain everything tomorrow. Text me where you’ll be and the time.” I glance up as I hear Don unlocking the door. I end the call and place my phone on the mantel under the newspaper.
Pouring two glasses of wine, I sit down on the sofa with my legs curled up under me. I’m almost afraid to look at Don when he enters the room. He stops short of the sofa and undoes the tie around his neck.
“I thought you might be hungry.” It’s a poor apology and an even worse explanation.
Don stares me down, his hands shoved in his pocket, and his eyes simmer with anger. “You want to tell me what the hell happened today?”
So much for the understanding and compassion I was hoping for.
****
I sip my wine and stare off at the wall as Donovan sits beside me. His legs are spread wide as he leans forward, studying my face. “You’re shutting down again and I need answers. You take a long lunch to meet this friend from college, or so you said. You didn’t make the meeting this afternoon. You attack Rex Montgomery of all people.” His eyebrows arch in disbelief.
“He’s been creeping on me for months.”
“He’s in business with my mother and never been anything but good to me and my family. Soon to be your family. But you assaulted him. If you think my mother is just going to let this go—”
“Maybe I don’t want her to. Maybe I need her to answer a few questions.”
“What kind of questions?” Don’s question is reserved, and the defensive wall he has about his mother goes up as he pulls away from me.
“Experimenting on kids?”
“She’s an exceptional case.”
I cast him a dirty look. “There’s no excuse for keeping her against her will. Sedating her. Where are her parents? Why is she so important?”
“Her brain could change everything. If you saw the scans…” Don sighs. “She can change time travel. Revolutionize what we’re doing. Give us the power to…cure the ill. Wipe crime off the map. Isn’t that worth something to you? Worth one kid’s pain?”
“No and the fact you think it is, horrifies me.” Not hungry anymore, I push the Chinese food away and I stand up. I pace in front of the mantel of the fireplace.
“I don’t know why suddenly I’m on trial here when you’re the one who got suspended today. You have any idea how I had to defend you to my mother?”
Maybe he wants me to apologize, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
I pick up my cell phone and slide it inside my purse.
Don stands and steps beside me. “Where do you think you’re going? We can work through this.”
He says it, but it doesn’t diminish the anger in his eyes. The words he says, he doesn’t even mean. Don’s trying to keep me from something, but what? Does he know the truth that he’s protecting?
I head for the door and he blocks my exit with his smoky, romantic eyes. “Don’t do this, Cass. If you leave, if you keep pushing like this, you’re drawing a line in the sand you can’t undo. If you leave here, I can’t help you.”
With surprise, I sigh. “How long have you been protecting your mother? How much do you really know?”
Donovan shrugs. “Family is family.”
I thought back to the memory of Lara in the wedding dress and how I’d stood with her…Molly. It doesn’t make any sense, but they feel like they are my family, and they are who I have to protect. They are who I need to get back to.
“And now it’s time for me to protect mine.” I push him out of the way, but Don grabs my arm and spins me around.
“I can’t let you go. I’m sorry.” There’s real grief to his words. “This isn’t how I wanted any of this to go down, but Cass…”
“Let me go.” I yank on my arm until my skin pinches, and then I pull some more.
Don yanks me closer. “You know I can’t do that. If you go out there…”
I push on him. “I said let me go!” A ball of pain and energy wells in my chest. In that moment, time slows down and I feel like I can’t breathe. A moment later, it pushes out of me like a golden beam of light. Donovan goes flying backwards, but he freezes in mid-air. His body twisted in time standing still, a look of horror on his face.
My mouth falls open as I stare at him. I froze him.
A look at the clock on the wall shows
I hadn’t just frozen him.
I’d frozen time.
I can manipulate time? Since when?
Then I remember how special Molly is. If we’re family, if everything Rex says is true, then she’s not the only special one. I am too.
I yank the door open and run out of there before time resets itself. When I get down to the street, the cars are paused into place, even the people walking down the sidewalk. There’s a brown-and-white cab waiting for a passenger, so I slide in. I struggle to breathe and my chest feels like it’s resisting me. All of this is too much and I’m not even sure I haven’t lost my mind. Time unpauses. “Drive,” I order the taxi driver.
He jumps. “Holy shit, where did you come from?”
“Just drive.” I grit my teeth and gaze up at the penthouse suit where Don must be reanimating. He’d be coming for me right now, if I didn’t miss my guess.
“Where to?” the driver asks as he pulls away from the curb.
“I don’t know. Anywhere.” I pull my phone out and bring up a Whitepages search. “I’ll find an address.”
I type in the name Miranda Crane. If she is ri
ght about me, she might be right about everything else. It is time to hear the rest of her story.
Chapter Twenty: Cassidy Winters
Miranda Crane lives in a high-rise overlooking the Charles River in the Back Bay of Boston. It’s one of the nicer apartments I’ve ever stood in and it’s clear that being lead scientist for Rewind makes her a comfortable living. Contemporary in style, the light gray interior is easy on the eye, soft to the touch, and almost romantic in nature.
Against the long wall in the living room, a rectangular fountain trickles with water. It should be soothing, but Miranda is anything but calm when she greets me.
Her eyes are tired when she greets me and there’s a sadness in them that always lingers in the background. She’s in a blue bathrobe and she heads over to the bar. There she pours me a whiskey over ice.
“With how you ran out of the diner, I was nervous about what you might do.”
I take the drink as she offers it and down it in one gulp. It’s warm and sets my throat on fire. Placing the empty glass down on the bar, I find my voice. “Oh, I did something all right. What can you tell me about who I am? Where I come from? I remember flashes of the past, but nothing concrete. When I looked up my parents, I found nothing.”
Miranda sighs and her eyes shift. “How can I be sure you’re not working for Patricia?”
“If I was, you’d be in enough trouble as it is. I need to know who I am. If I was ripped from time like you say I was, something about who I was before was left behind.”
“Left behind? Like what?”
I bite my lip and consider not telling her. But I am running out of time.
Don will realize where I am and what I am up to.
Hell, I am not even sure what I am up to. “I can freeze time. I can manipulate it.”
Miranda’s eyes widen. “You’re sure?”
“Trust me, I’m sure.”
