15 Minutes: A YA Time Travel Thriller (Rewind Series) (9 page)

Ten years.

I open what turns out to be an email, and my
breath catches in my throat. It is dated exactly two weeks before Mom’s
attempted murder.

Or her actual death.

Patricia,

You’ve been a
dear friend for so long. It pains me to write this letter to you. I
respectfully, and with a heavy heart, must hand in my resignation.

Lara is still
so young. John and I have been fighting more. I have promised to give our
marriage one more chance. And to honestly do that, I am going to need to take a
step back in my career.

I hope you
achieve everything we’ve brainstormed all those late nights. I know how
important it is to you and the world to find an end to violence.

I’ll make sure
my current contract is completed, but after that I will be moving on. Thank you
for everything you’ve done for me over these last few years.

Miranda Crane

I sit and stare at the screen as if doing so
will get it to leap up at me and explain what this all means. Mom was ready to
leave Rewind two weeks before her death. Two weeks! That couldn’t have been a
coincidence. What if they didn’t want to let her go? What if she knew things
she shouldn’t, and the only way to deal with that fact was to make sure she
never talked about them, and then, when their assassination attempt fell
through, they framed my dad?

Is it too far of a stretch? Was the Senator,
Donovan’s mom, actually capable of murder?

I need to find out more about this woman, but
quietly. I don’t want to spook her or Donovan. There is no way I can afford for
them to realize I’m onto them. She’s a United States Senator for goodness’
sake. If I’m wrong, I will burn.

But if I’m right … God, if I’m right it’s going
to take more than a few emails to prove it. Still, they are all I have, so I
continue exploring them. Perhaps Mom is keeping this folder in case she needs
leverage against Patricia James? I doubt she realizes how dangerous the woman
is.

Senator,

Clearly their relationship wasn’t as chummy as
it used to be, but why? What happened between them to cause a rift, and if
there is a rift, why is Mom still secretly working for her?

Senator,

My assistant Delilah
continues to use the memory program to find candidates for the John project. We
are only a few months away from human testing.

The next one:

Miranda,

Start human
testing immediately or I’ll find someone who will.

The memory program was a cover for the John
program. I assume now that unlocking the brain’s ability to time travel off the
grid, away from police scrutiny, is the John project, and the memory storage
program is nothing but a cover for their research. A way to find participants.
Humans are nothing more than guinea pigs to these people. The Senator was
clearly upset with Mom, but why? Was Mom becoming resistant to the work? She
wanted out once. Is it possible she wanted out again?

Another email from only a few weeks ago. The
subject is simply
You?
It contains an
attachment of a news article from Reuters.

                                      
“
Reporter Found Dead
”

After asking
questions about Rewind’s ethics, Joyce Meyers, an investigative reporter, was
found dead of an apparent suicide in her bathtub late last night. Calls from
her neighbors alerted the police to screams heard earlier that day, and they
worried for her safety.

Ms. Meyers,
famous for asking probing questions of Rewind lead scientist Miranda Montgomery
at a press conference last week, defended herself by saying she had a source
who had proof that Rewind was conducting illegal research. She refused to give
up her source when asked, saying to do so would put her source’s life in harm’s
way.

A suicide note
was found at the scene and a police investigation is currently ongoing.

Who was her source? Mom?

It’s clear Mom thinks Senator James is capable
of murder, practically accusing her of it in her email. Whatever is going on, I
need to find out more about Joyce and the Senator.

My head rages with pain, and my hands flutter
to my temples. I grunt, feeling the onslaught of another memory barreling
toward me. When we collide, my eyes snap open, and I grip the edges of the
desk. The memory floods me.

****

I’m sitting at the same desk, only my dress is short
and my hair straight. My hand is using the mouse, moving all the confidential
system files over to an empty folder—systems, theories, blueprints. Plus the
science behind what Mom is trying to do to the human mind. As the files are
copied, I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is coming. I’m on edge,
nervous.

I find a video in the archive folder I didn’t
see before. Clicking play, Mom’s face comes into focus. She appears nervous,
scared, and when she speaks, her words chill my heart.

“If I have an accident, if I end up dead, let
this serve as proof that Senator Patricia James, my colleague and old friend,
had a hand in it.” Her hands shake as she wipes a strand of hair from her face.
“I dare not let on that I know how dangerous she’s become, but I am going to
finish my current project and then, God help me, take my family and get out of
the country. Hide. If I live that long.”

Mom blinks back tears. “
Jax
,
Lara, no one knows how scared I’ve been the last few months, and I have to keep
it that way or put their lives in jeopardy.” She takes a deep breath. “I never
should’ve listened to Patricia. Never.”

She goes on to reveal what I’ve already
deduced—the memory program is nothing but a cover. The Senator convinced her to
start illegal testing on a project hidden from the US government. She wants the
technology for herself, to improve the country and put herself in power.

“I used to have the same goals.” She swallows
hard. “But I wanted it to help people like my Lara. Like myself. Victims.
Patricia wants it for herself, and that can’t be allowed. So once I’m done and
safely out of the country, I’ll send this video and be done with her once and
for all.”

The video ends there, and I sit for a moment,
unable to believe what I’ve heard. My investigation into Dad’s conviction had
unearthed information I hadn’t suspected, and now I’m caught up in something
dangerous, something I can’t handle on my own. But what choice do I have? If I
tell Donovan, I might lose him forever, and going to the police might get Mom,
Jax
, or Dad killed. I have no choice.

I copy the video over and pull a small flash
drive out from the side of the computer once it’s done. That’s it. It’s time.

Time to deliver the evidence.

****

My eyes open as the memory fades.

Was I Joyce Meyer’s source? Did I get her
killed.

If so, did Lara know that? And why was she
snooping in Mom’s office in the first place? I have a reason. What was her
reason?

I need to find out.

The front doorbell rings, stopping me in my
tracks. I make sure everything appears as I found it then rush to the door. It
chimes again rapid fire, as if someone fell asleep on a church organ. My
spirits lift when I see Rick on the other side.

“Rick,” I say with surprise.

He wears a slight smile and peers over my
shoulder into the foyer. “Wow, looks pretty fancy in there.”

I blush and laugh out of nerves. “Well, you
know… ahem …I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Not as surprised as I am,” Rick admits. “When
you weren’t in school, I knew something might be wrong. Or, you know, you might
need notes for Mr. Johnson’s history class. I have it third period, and I know
you’re in the fifth.”

So he kept tabs on my schedule. “Thanks. That’s
real nice of you. Sure, I’d love some notes.”

I step aside and let him in, making sure I
secure the front door before I lead him into the living room. He looks around
the place as he perches himself on the edge of the sofa.

“Sofa’s don’t bite,” I say with a smirk.

“Huh? Oh.” He chortles and sits back. “Sorry. I
feel like I’m dirtying the place by being here.”

“You’re not.” I pause and bite the inside of my
cheek. “Want a drink? I mean juice, soda. Oh, bite me.”

He stares at me for a moment, and we both burst
out laughing. Fishing inside his bag, he pulls out a few sheets of paper and
hands them to me.

“Wow.” My eyebrows rise. “I’m surprised there
are actual notes. Here I thought they might be an excuse. To come in.”

Rick smirks. “You caught me. Guess I wanted to
see how things were with your dad and everything.”

I shrug and shake my head. “I saw him, and it
led to more questions than answers, and he acted like … I was a stranger.” I
bite the inside of my lip. “Guess I am.
Here
.
Hell, I’m even a stranger to myself.”

“Sorry. Has to be rough.”

“Like sandpaper.” I tuck my hair behind my ears.
“I found a key hidden in the back of my wallet, but I don’t know what it
opens.”

“Can
I see?”

Fishing
it out of my purse, I hand it to him. He turns it over and holds it up to
inspect. “Looks like the one I used to carry for my locker at the Y. I don’t
know why you’d go there, though.”

Maybe
because I didn’t want anyone to see what I put in it. I take the key back and
study it again, noticing
63
is
engraved in the center. My mind flashes to white.

I
glance fearfully over my shoulder before shoving a blue duffle bag inside and
locking the door. I hurry, nearly running, to get to the pool before anyone
sees me.

I’m
back with Rick again. Why was I so afraid? Is it all related to the Senator and
the death of the reporter Joyce Meyers? It's time to find out.

“Anything else?” Rick asks.

I shrug. “I might be on to something.”

“Oh?” He sits up straighter.

I lean forward to tell him about what I found,
but then the front door slams. “We’re home!”

“My sister and brother,” I explain. “I’m in
here!” I bellow.

They stop in their tracks at seeing Rick.
Mike’s face is untrusting, his lips drawn together in a line, while Molly
smiles shyly.

“This is Rick, an old friend.”

“Are we still going to the mall?” Molly asks.

“Oh, sorry.” Rick stands up. “I didn’t realize
you had plans.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you came by.” I stand
up, glancing between the kids and Rick. “Why don’t you come with us? We’re
going to take the T and then get dinner. It might be fun. Right?”

I turn to the kids, who seem unsure, but then
they nod. Expectantly, I face Rick and tug anxiously on my fingers. “Come on,
it’s a free meal.”

“I’ll come, but I won’t take your money. I’m
not a pity case.”

My face falls. “I know that. I was just trying
to be nice.”

He bends down to the kids and winks at them. “Last
one to the curb is a rotten egg!”

He takes off running, and the kids chase after
him, but I remain in place for a moment. I can’t shake the feeling that Rick is
different, that he isn’t the boy I knew, but I shake it off as nerves and run
after them.

“Wait for me guys!”

All
the way to the mall, Rick engages the kids, and I watch as they open up to
him—Molly with her wide eyes and Mike with his science jokes. I can’t shake the
feeling that something about him is different. Maybe it’s nothing, and I’m on
edge because of my growing feelings for Donovan. Maybe I’m looking for reasons
I can’t be with Rick.

I
buy the kids the Happy Meals they want, and after everyone eats we head to the
jewelry store. We let the kids wander ahead but only far enough to enjoy a
little freedom. As we walk I read the sale signs, and when Rick suddenly takes
my hand with his clammy palm, I jump at the unexpected affection.

He
bites his lip, and his eyes look like a wounded puppy’s. “Is this something you
don’t want?”

“No,
I—” I don’t know what I’m feeling. “I wasn’t expecting it. We can’t let the
kids see.” I pull my hand back, and there’s no mistaking the disappointment on
Rick’s face.

He
falls quiet. I want to explain, but first I have a necklace to pick out and
birthstones to order. I pay with my credit card and accept the receipt, so we
can pick up the purchase in a week. I wonder what will happen between now and
then, but I manage a smile and drop the receipt into my purse.

Molly
talks about dresses, and Mike talks about sports on the way through the mall
toward the entrance. They pause when we stop to let them ride the carousel.
They are so excited and have such giant grins on their faces that I can’t help
but feel better.

“Look
at me, Lara!” Molly giggles, holding her arms over her head.

I take out my
phone and snap a picture before I turn to Rick. “I’m sorry about earlier. I
like holding hands with you. Things are complicated.”

“You
think I don’t know that? I haven’t thought about you in years.” The words sting.
“You were someone I knew once. But then you showed up on my door with a look in
your eye I never thought you’d have.” He takes a deep breath. “And now I can’t
stop thinking about you.”

My
mouth falls open as he wipes a stray hair from my face. “You’re telling me
everything I want to hear. But—”

“When
you moved away, my life sucked.” Rick opens his heart up to me, but all I can
think about is Donovan.

How
can he be saying this to me when I’m with someone else? And why do I care so
much? I barely know Donovan, but that doesn’t mean I want to hurt him.

“I
was crushing on you bad, and you were my best friend,” he went on. "Then…”
Rick shrugs. “I had no one. But now you’re back,” he says, running his hands
through my hair. “The Lara I loved as a kid has come back to me, so how can I
stay away? How?”

He
reaches into his pocket, pulls out a square plastic bag, and hands it to me.
When I turn it over, I see a purple lollipop ring. Is it possible he’s kept it
all these years?

I
glance up at him. “Oh, Rick …”

He
leans in and whispers with a quiet passion. “Why not leap at the chance? We’ll
solve this thing with your dad. Figure it out. Together.” He clasps both his
hands over mine, and I can’t fight it anymore.

I
close my eyes, and he kisses me. The kiss is perfect. It makes my heart sore,
but something feels fake, wrong. His speech couldn’t have been more what I
wanted, but inside me something is breaking. When we pull away, our eyes meet,
but despite everything I desire, I don’t see that look in his eye. I don’t see
anything familiar.

“Are
you sure—?”

“Is
this what you mean by old friend?”

I
gasp and spin around. Donovan is standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“It’s
not what you think. Don—”

“Not
what I think?”

He’s
snarling and his hands are coiled. Behind him I see a posse of guys all using
the same dress code of expensive jeans and finely pressed shirts. The natives
are starting to circle, and I need to get Rick out of there before Donovan goes
primeval.

Rick
backs away, obviously sensing the danger, and I put my hand on Donovan’s chest.

“It’s
not like that. We are old friends. Things got out of hand. Don, you have to
believe me.” I don’t know why I care so stinking much, but the tears in my eyes
say I do.

Donovan
grunts. “Old friend, huh?
 
Looks like it
from his ripped jeans and nasty janitor’s top. Late for work, Rick?”

Rick
snorts and throws up his hands. “Whatever, man. You think you own her? You
don’t. Sorry your ego got bruised, but she can make her own choices. Call me
when you’re free of this guy, Lara.”

He
turns and walks away, but Donovan charges, punching him in the back. Rick
sprawls to the ground onto his chest and slides along the floor. Donovan
charges with his fists clenched, and I scream, grabbing at his arm to slow him
down.

Behind
me, the music stops. The twins are going to get off the carousel and see
everyone fighting. It’ll scare them, and Mom will never let me take them out
again. Terrified, my mind spins. My feet dig into the tile as Donovan’s friends
laugh. I tug on his arm as hard as I can, grunting under the strain.

“Don,
please. The kids are here.”

He
freezes at my words, and his face turns to stone. Rick gets up and shakes
himself off. I try to apologize with my eyes, but his are ablaze with fury.
I’ve seen it before, and things are going to get worse. The boys stare each
other down.

“I
think,” I start carefully, “we should go our separate ways now.”

I
wrap my hand around Donovan’s strong bicep, aware how wrong this is, but it
relaxes his body. Kids around us are as waves in the ocean, bouncing and
parting. I turn to find the twins when I hear a scream.

“Molly!”

Hearing
Mike’s cry sets my joints on fire. I charge against the mob of people, looking
for my brother. I see him through the crowd running away from me, almost as if
he’s chasing after someone.

I
push past everyone, hurrying to get to him. My arms pump, and I sprint as
though I were in a race. Behind me, Donovan screams my name, but I keep going
until I catch up to Mike. He’s breathing hard and crying with his hands over
his eyes.

Down
on bended knee, I take him by the shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He
points, unable to complete a sentence without babbling. Donovan joins us and
gives Mike a light punch on the shoulder.

“We
can’t help you, dude, unless you tell us.”

Mike
takes a breath and composes himself. “Someone came on the carousel right as it
stopped … He took Molly.”

My
heart stops, and my nose begins to bleed.