A Time of Shadows (Out of Time #8) Page 13

  “And two?” Tess asked.

  “Get them to tell you what you need to know without knowing they have.”

  “And we’re going to do that by—?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and the two men were right behind them. “For now, leaving.”

  He led her toward the front door.

  “But we came in from over there.” She swiveled her head around toward the docks.

  They walked down the front steps of the club as a line of patrons queued up to get in. The road was small, two lanes and there was little to no cover. On one side was the club and the other a steep sloping hill. They couldn’t wait here, and besides, they needed transport. Time for plan B.

  He waved to one of the cabs parked in line waiting for people who needed rides back to the city. The two thugs stood at the top of the steps and watched them as Jack opened the door for Tess and then slid in after her.

  The cab pulled away. “I don’t understand.”

  Jack looked out of the car window. He watched the narrow path cut into the hill above them that ran roughly parallel with the main road. It would have to do, he thought. As they came upon another club, he told the driver to pull over. He paid and sent him along.

  Tess frowned at him. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Jack jerked his head toward the parking lot. He walked through it until he saw what he was looking for. At the edge of the gravel drive were several motorcycles. The newer ones were out of the question, but thankfully there were a few older models. He just hoped things hadn’t changed too much since he’d done this last.

  He pulled out his pocket knife and knelt down next to one of the bikes.

  “Keep an eye out,” he told her.

  Tess eyed the blade with suspicion. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting us a ride.”

  Quickly, he cut a short bit of wire about five inches long and stripped the ends. Then he moved to the second bike.

  He followed the ignition wires down to the plastic connector. He pulled the two ends apart and then used the small bit of wire to bridge the ports. Listening carefully, he heard the tell-tale click and knew they were in business.

  He stood and pressed the starter. The engine came to life. Tess turned back around impressed.

  Jack swung his leg over and sat down on the seat.

  Tess looked down at her dress and frowned. “Can you do that with a car?”

  “We need to be maneuverable,” he said. “You can stay behind if you want.”

  “Hell no,” Tess said and looked down at her dress again. “Give me that knife.”

  He handed it to her and she sighed heavily, then sheared off most of the long flowing skirt and tossed it aside. He was impressed. She was game for anything, so far.

  He grinned, shed his jacket and gave it to her. She took it gratefully, took off her heels and got on behind him. Holding her heels in one hand and Jack about the waist with the other, she pressed her head against his back.

  “Next time you wear the dress.”

  Jack chuckled, revved the engine and pulled away.

  They drove back up the road past Club Reina until he found access to the path cut into the hill. “You’re going to want to hold on,” he warned her.

  She wrapped both arms tightly around his middle. He tried to take it slowly, but it didn’t help much. Thankfully, the path, probably for goats or something, smoothed out fairly quickly. Before long, they came to the spot just above Club Reina and he pulled to a stop. Now, all they could do was wait.

  As Jack had suspected, they didn’t have to wait long. Whatever Skavo was involved in, and however the Wizard was mixed up in it, it was high stakes and he wanted to protect his interest. Less than half an hour after they’d left, the Wizard and his bodyguards made their way down the steps and into a waiting limousine.

  Jack fired up the bike and trailed after them keeping on the rough cut path so he could watch them from above. Without the headlight on it was treacherous enough, but it wasn’t long before he saw real trouble.

  “Does this join up with the road?” Tess said in his ear.

  He’d hoped so, but apparently not.

  “Lean into me and hold on,” he said.

  The path doubled back up the hill the wrong way. They weren’t that high above the road now, maybe fifteen feet. It was pretty steep and too damn rocky, but if they didn’t at least try, they’d lose him.

  With a quick silent prayer, he swerved to the left and plunged down the hill. He felt a little like the Man from Snowy River as they nearly flew down to the street below. The back end kicked out and he barely managed to catch it and keep them from crashing. But he kept it steady, willing the tires to dig into the hard soil.

  After a long ten seconds, the tires kicked the last bit of dirt up and hit tarmac with a lurching thud.

  “Ow,” Tess mumbled behind him. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

  He could just make out the limousine ahead of them as it wound down the hill and toward the city. They passed through several blocks where the streets were virtually empty. It was difficult to hide there, but with no headlight, they were as close to invisible as they could get. Jack lay back until they were back in traffic again. Making sure to keep a few cars between them, they tailed the limousine for less than ten minutes before it pulled up to an estate and waited for the automatic gates to open. The house was large and surrounded by a convincing perimeter fence.

  Jack pulled in behind some bushes and they watched the limo disappear into the grounds.

  “Welcome to Oz,” Jack said as he got off the bike. He helped Tess off and she winced a little.

  “Yeah, well, that was no Yellow Brick Road, I’ll tell ya. What do we do now?” Tess asked. She stretched out the kinks and rubbed her backside. “And don’t say wait.”

  Jack gestured to a soft little spot in the bushes. “We wait.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  SIMON DIDN’T LIKE THIS. Of course, he didn’t like much of anything these last few days, but this was tempting fate somehow. The clue they’d found at Gettysburg was deceptively simple.

  W76

  Where Mary went.

  Both he and Elizabeth knew instantly what it meant. And it sent a shiver down his spine. He’d put on a calm face, of course, but inside he was roiling with emotion.

  The last place on earth he wanted to take his child was the very place they were going. Memories of little Mary Stewart, not much younger than their Charlotte when she died, had never been far from his mind. The pain and loss he’d seen in Rose Stewart’s eyes were something he would never forget—losing a child.

  Before, he couldn’t imagine how a parent would survive such a thing, but it was always in that vague, proper murmuring of condolences way that the uninitiated had. Now that he’d met Charlotte, fallen irrevocably in love with her, he could imagine it vividly, and it terrified him.

  Instinctively he looked into his rearview mirror to reassure himself that Charlotte was there and safe. But for how long, a traitorous voice whispered. Not only had their mission been one of helping a dead child, but it was here, in Natchez, that old Nan, the blind slave woman, had seen through the veils of time and told them that their future child would die.

  Now, here he was, bringing her to that very place.

  The moment they passed the Welcome to Natchez sign a cold fist had gripped his heart and not let go. Glancing at Elizabeth in the seat next to him as she tugged nervously at her fingers, he knew she felt the exact same way.

  Simon hadn’t realized how quiet the car had become until Charlotte broke the silence.

  “Is something wrong?”

  In the rearview mirror he saw her worried expression.

  “Did I do something?”

  Elizabeth turned around in her seat. “No, not at all.” Her glance slid over to Simon for a moment then back to Charlotte. “It’s just that there are a lot of memories here.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Mom and Dad don’t
talk about it much.” She looked out as the oaks and maples passed by the car window. “Is it because of the little girl?”

  “In part,” Simon said, hoping she’d leave it at that.

  “But you saved her,” Charlotte said. “Saved her soul, I mean. That’s what counts, right?”

  Simon nodded and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. Just before the Civil War, little Mary Stewart had been murdered, and their mission had been to help her find peace. They had. They’d unmasked the murderer and dug up long buried family secrets. In the process of helping the child rest, they’d found a ghost of their own. A ghost of what was yet to be, and it haunted them as intensely as any specter could.

  And with that thought, the fist in his chest tightened a little more.

  They drove along the same road from town they’d previously traveled in a carriage and found little had changed. Natchez had preserved its heritage, and most of the farmland remained undeveloped. Several motels and newer homes dotted the meadows, but a few of the great plantations remained, physical and emotional testaments and scars of an earlier time.

  River Run was an historic home turned bed and breakfast now, the Stewart family long since gone. But as Simon turned off the main road and drove under the great wrought iron “RR” gate and up the long drive, it was as though no time had passed.

  They pulled off the dirt drive to a designated parking area where the stables had been. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he pulled to a stop.

  Despite the quiet and peacefulness of the former plantation, Simon felt uneasy as they got out of the car. The warm late summer air, thick with the smell of the nearby river, was another sensory memory. He stared up at the big house. In his mind’s eye he could still see the flames shooting out of the upstairs rooms and licking toward the roof.

  A small hand slipped into his and he looked down to see Charlotte looking up at him. The corners of her mouth were lifted in a sweet smile and she waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts and bring them back to the present.

  He squeezed her hand and they started toward the house. The interior had been refurnished, but the feeling was still like stepping back in time. Not needing a guide, they passed through the entry way and down the hall to the back of the house.

  He and Elizabeth had discussed just what the clue might mean and where they might find it. In Simon’s mind, “where Mary went” could only mean one place.

  They walked out onto the back veranda where lunch was being served and stood at the top of the steps as they had so many times before.

  “Do you think you should wait here?” Simon asked Elizabeth with a meaningful nod at Charlotte.

  Elizabeth held out the small bouquet of flowers they’d brought. “Maybe that would be—”

  “I want to go,” Charlotte said. “I’m not afraid.”

  Simon wished he could say the same. He kept a tight hold of her hand as they walked down the back steps and into the garden on their way to Mary’s grave.

  The small private graveyard was tucked away behind a small grove of trees that had grown in the century and a half since they’d been there last. Around Mary’s grave other headstones had grown, too. There was one for Louisa, who died as a young woman. And two side by side, Elijah and Rose.

  “I guess they’re all together now,” Elizabeth said.

  Simon nodded, but didn’t speak. It was moments like this that drove home how fleeting life was—his life, Elizabeth’s, Charlotte’s. The men and women they’d met in the past, who fought and cried and tore at the world to stay alive, were long since dead and forgotten by all but a few.

  Elizabeth held out the small clutch of flowers to Charlotte. “Would you like to place them?”

  Charlotte knelt and nestled them up against the granite stone. Next to their delicate white and pink petals, a deep-blue patch of forget-me-nots bloomed.

  Charlotte plucked away some fallen leaves and then stood. She looked up at Simon and smiled. He pulled her against his side. Nan had called the loss of his child his burden, and he felt the weight of its coming more keenly now than ever before.

  “Rest in peace, Mary,” Elizabeth said.

  Simon repeated the sentiment silently.

  After a moment’s introspection, Elizabeth sighed and looked around. “Where do you think he put it?” she asked. “Teddy, I mean.”

  Simon had wondered the same thing. Teddy wouldn’t deface a grave even for something as important as this. He looked around and walked toward a memorial bench that had been placed under the shade of one of the nearby oaks. Sure enough, embedded in the back of one of the legs was their moon—full this time.

  Simon pried the little tube out of its hole and slipped it into his pocket and rejoined Elizabeth and Charlotte. The three of them stood at the grave a moment longer, each in their own thoughts, until finally they started back to the car.

  It had been emotional, but everything had gone as smoothly as they could have hoped, Simon thought, as he started up the rental car. If all was to be believed from last night’s phone call with Jack, he was making progress on his end. Everything was all right, he told himself, and let out a cleansing breath.

  Elizabeth turned to take in one last view of River Run as Simon drove slowly around the end of the loop and started down the long drive. When it was no longer in sight, she sat back in her seat and looked briefly, but warmly at him. She seemed as relieved to leave as he was, and the slight shading under her eyes told him she was just as exhausted as he was, too.

  Whatever the next destination, he was looking forward to getting some rest before they moved on. They’d been on the move, virtually non-stop, for nearly ten days now. A yawn overtook him; a day of rest was definitely in order. On the other hand, Charlotte looked like she could go on for another ten days without taking a breath. She played with the silver canister, rolling it around in her hands and twirling it like a miniature baton.

  The long country road was quiet and the drive was peaceful, with trees and meadows passing by the windows. He glanced to his right and saw that Elizabeth had closed her eyes, but kept her face forward toward the sun that streamed through the occasional canopy of trees sheltering the road. The tires of the rental car hummed as they wound their way back toward town, lulling them into a state of hypnotic calm.

  The peace was short-lived, however. They’d barely gone half a mile before some idiot started tailgating them. Simon had no idea what they were on about; there was plenty of room for them to pass on the two lane road. They were at a long straightaway and visibility was clear. Simon slowed slightly to make it easier for them, but the car remained stubbornly behind them.

  He waved for them to pass, but they made no move to do so. He was just starting to grow concerned when they finally peeled off to the left and moved to overtake them.

  “About bloody time,” he grumbled as he caught sight of the car in his side mirror.

  What was it about this particular stretch of road that hated him so much? This was nearly the exact spot he and Elizabeth had been waylaid the last time they were here.

  He glanced over as the cars were even and his heart leapt in his chest. Instantly, he recognized the two men in the car. They were the men from the Shadow Council; the men who had chased them in the subway.

  “Dear God,” he said as the men stared back at him.

  Elizabeth sat up and inhaled quickly. “Oh my God. Is that—”

  Simon gripped the wheel tightly. “Yes.”

  “What do we do?” Elizabeth asked, and the men pointed toward the side of the road. She grabbed his arm in alarm. “You’re not going to pull over, are you?”

  Simon shot Elizabeth a glare. “Make sure your seat belts are tight.”

  Elizabeth turned around. “Charlotte?”

  He saw her nodding in the rearview mirror. His breath was already coming fast and hard as he tried to come up with a plan of escape. They were miles from any help on a deserted country road.

  Simon slowed again and the
men in the other car kept pace with him. He sped up, and they did the same. Finally, an oncoming car forced them to drop back and get in line. Simon didn’t waste the opportunity and gunned it. The Cadillac he’d rented was not only big; it was powerful. They broke away, but only for a moment. The other car caught up to them easily and pulled alongside again. What he wouldn’t give for his 6-Series now. In this, he couldn’t outrun them.

  The men pointed angrily at the wide dirt and gravel shoulder. Simon clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Like hell he was going to pull over.

  But what could he do? He glanced over at the other car just in time to see it veer towards him.

  “Hold on!” was all he had time to cry out before the other car smashed into the side of their car.

  The force of the impact pushed them off the road and onto the soft shoulder, and for a split second, Simon lost control. Both Charlotte and Elizabeth screamed. The right-side tires spun and slipped on the soft earth, spitting gravel up behind them in a rooster’s tail. The back end of the car fishtailed to the right. Simon kept it from sliding completely around and it kicked back and gripped the pavement again.

  “Holy Crap!” Elizabeth cried out. He glanced over at her. She was all right, just in shock. Behind them Charlotte started to cry.

  Knowing he had to do something, anything, Simon moved back alongside the other car and turned his wheel sharply toward them. He rammed into the passenger door. The metal crunched and screamed as they scraped along side each other. Bits of side panel and metal littered the highway behind them, bouncing in the distance before he wrenched the wheel back to the right and straight again.

  He’d seen police perform the PIT maneuver before and knew it was their best shot. He might be able to force them off the road with sheer power, but it was far more dangerous. Simon tried to slow just enough to be able to clip their rear panel and spin them, but they pulled ahead too quickly.

  Instead of pulling ahead in the right lane, they stayed in the left, in the path of oncoming traffic. They continued to pace then, right alongside, and just as he was about to wonder what they were doing, the man in the passenger seat lean out of his window. He didn’t need to see the gun to know it was there.