Twin Speex: Time Traitors Book II (3 page)

He opened his eyes wide in surprise. “She walked?”

“Not only did she walk, she took the subway,” Ettie declared dramatically and was pleased to see him sit back in surprise.

“I don’t believe it,” he replied flatly. “She never takes the subway. Not since we were kids.”

“Well, she did. And I followed her. She got off the train at Astor Place.”

“Bowery?”

“Yeah. And it gets even weirder.” Ettie turned to him, her eyes intense and serious. “I thought she was headed to the Bowery Hotel, but she turned onto Second Street and then into this little alleyway. I was afraid she would see me for sure, but she never once looked back.”

Odell could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and he had a general sense of foreboding.

“There was a gate in a high brick wall, and she just walked in. I waited a minute before poking my head around. It was a walled garden or park or something—”

“A cemetery,” Odell informed her, “The oldest nondenominational public cemetery in the city.”

“There weren’t any tombstones, just some monuments,” Ettie protested.

“They are gravesites. But mostly there are underground vaults marked by plaques.”

“How do you even know this?”

He shook his head. “Don’t ask.” Then he quickly redirected her back to the story, “What happened next?”

“I really hate your mysterious crap,” she huffed before continuing, “Well, she met a man there. I mean, a really strange man. He was tall and dark with all this long, black hair. He looked… impassive—like he was carved from stone.”

“You didn’t recognize him?”

“No, I’ve never seen him before in my life.” Ettie met his eyes with that intensely concentrated look she typically reserved only for her dancing. “Odell, he wasn’t just strange, he was…,” she struggled for words, “…almost alien.”

“Ettie…” He reached for her hand.

“I know it sounds hysterical, but something is not right. I couldn’t get close enough without being seen, so I didn’t hear what they were saying. But, Odell, the look on her face—love… adoration. I’ve never seen her look like that before.”

Odell let go of her hand and drew a little back. “How long was she there? Where did she go afterwards?”

“She was with him five, maybe ten minutes. I hid between the wall and the building when she left.” Ettie shook her head. “But I didn’t follow her. I wanted to see where
he
was going, so I waited.”

Odell looked at her expectantly.

“He never left, Odell,” she said, her eyes intense with meaning. “I waited and when he didn’t come out, I went in.”

He tensed imperceptibly at her recklessness. Ettie never reacted well to his brotherly efforts to protect her. He schooled his features into a noncommittal expression and asked, “Did you find him?”

“No, he wasn’t there. It’s a small place. I could see the entire pa—cemetery.” She gazed out the window and drew in a deep breath. “There must be another exit, but I didn’t want to go in too far. No one was around, and I was a bit nervous about running into him alone.”

Odell gave silent thanks for this small concession to caution, and they sat without speaking for several minutes.

“What’s going on, Odell?” she finally asked without looking at him.

“How should I know?” he countered, “Ivy is as much a mystery to me as you.”

She looked at him now, her eyes so full of worry he almost couldn’t breathe. “It’s not just Ivy. When I was waiting for you, I saw you cross the street, but…” Her voice trembled slightly, and she bit her lip. “But it really wasn’t you, and the street scene…,” her voice trailed off.

He pushed down his panic and prompted, “Yes?”

She took a deep breath and said in a stronger voice, “You were dressed very strangely—like some kind of futuristic, Edwardian count or something. And the street was full of carriages, but no horses. When I looked down at my hands, the phone was there, but it was different, circular and heavy with dials and knobs—” she broke off, swallowed convulsively and continued, “At that second, it all seemed normal, but right afterward… I… I thought I was going crazy.”

He put his arm around her and drew her close. “You are
not
crazy,” he told her firmly. “You have just experienced a time shift.” He turned her to face him and put his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t—”

She opened her mouth to protest knowing he was going to evade an explanation, but, squeezing her shoulders, he stopped her.

“I swear to you, Ettie, I’m not being mysterious. Even a few days ago, I wouldn’t have had the words to explain this phenomenon to you. Let me get everything together in my own mind and then, I promise, I’ll explain it all.”

She breathed deeply to calm herself and asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to mom.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Until speaking with you, I really had no idea what to do next. But the fact that our mother is acting strangely, or more strangely than usual,” he amended, “is starting to make perfect sense to me.

“The last time something like this happened, it turned out to be very personal. I have no idea why it is happening again or why our family is in the middle of it, but I’m going to find out.”

Ettie sat back and ran her hands through her hair, a gesture mirrored by her twin brother.

“I guess I’ve got to meet dad anyway,” she said, referring to her regular Tuesday night dinners with their father.

Their parents had never married, but remained cordial even after their relationship had ended when the twins were still just babies. Only Ettie maintained an active relationship with him. Odell had never felt anything but slightly uneasy in his father’s presence. Only now, for the first time in his life, did Odell understand the emotional distance he maintained from him.

He had explained it to Ava as similar to growing an entirely new skin. It wasn’t the blinding revelation one might see in a movie, where the protagonist staggers around clutching at his head.

He had opened the letter, the journal, and breathed it in. It filled him from the inside out. The memories lodged in the nooks and crannies of his brain. They settled in between his present reality and two other lives, two other worlds. Everything clicked into place, the jigsaw puzzle completed, and a new life emerged from beneath his dermis to settle atop and fuse with his old skin.

He was the same man, but a new man. Odell wasn’t surprised to see the crystal key when he had opened the safe. He knew it would be there, just as he knew the Temporatus was parked in some inter-dimensional garage.

Odell admired Ava’s composure. She had sat there listening, the journal, letter, and portrait with their attendant letters of authentication spread out before her. He had taken a chance in trusting her.

He looked now at Ettie and knew his trust had not been misplaced. Ava hadn’t entirely believed him. He couldn’t blame her. It sounded crazy to his own ears. But she had promised to keep it to herself until he’d had time to sort it all out.

He knew Ettie would be the first she’d call, to warn her of Odell’s mental breakdown. The fact that she had not, was proof, at least, that she was uncertain.

He nodded to Ettie and smiled. “Yeah, dad will be counting on you.”

Her usual sharp and confident personality reasserted itself. “I wish he could count on you too.”

Odell smiled at her and shook his head. “He doesn’t care much about me. It’s you he really loves.”

She threw him an annoyed look. This was an old argument. “You’re wrong, but I don’t have time to fight with you. And,” she continued, her expression softening, “I need my big brother right now.”

“Yes, that two hour head start gives me quite the advantage in experience and stature.” He laughed, and then stood with her, hugging her tightly. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”

She smiled at him a little sadly and, gathering up her bag and phone, left. At the café door she turned, and he waved goodbye.

Odell saw her, hair elaborately piled on top of her head. Her dress was tightly corseted, and the skirt brushed just below the ankles of her boots. A white glove with a little pearl button covered the hand that waved in return.

He managed to smile reassuringly before she exited the café and was gone.

Three

AVA HAD BEEN trying to reach Ettie all afternoon. She was almost frantic. Only loyalty to her friend had kept her from going straight to her department head with the story. That, and the fact that she was unlikely to be believed.

Odell had left her the portrait for specialists of her own choosing to examine, but he had taken the letter and journal. They had certainly looked authentic, and he had the experts to back them up. But the story within them was preposterous! Nevertheless, without them, she had no hard evidence of what had passed between her and Odell only this morning.

She dialed Ettie again, the call going immediately to voicemail. Ava put her phone down on the desk and stood up in frustration. She paced the small office and stopped to stare blindly out the window.

She held her breath for a few seconds and expanded her diaphragm, blowing the air out slowly. She repeated this three more times in an effort to calm her nerves and clear her thinking. But her stomach knotted up again almost immediately with worry and indecision. God, how she hated yoga! It never worked. Only action had ever given Ava the release she needed when under stress.

She picked up the portrait, now securely wrapped again in its velvet cover, and her phone, zipped them into the outer pocket of her book bag, and left. She walked across the central lobby that connected the two wings of the building and stopped at the office of her colleague, Janet Fielding.

She employed the tactic so often used against her by knocking while opening the door. Fortunately, her friend was doing nothing more private than gazing blankly at the computer screen.

Janet blinked and looked up, rubbing her eyes. “This translation is driving me nuts. No matter how long I look at it, it’s still boring.” She stretched back in her chair and asked, “What’s up?”

Dr. Janet Fielding was an associate professor of comparative literature. Her specialty was the study of colonial and postcolonial writings in India. She was a well-respected expert and researcher in the area, but that didn’t stop the university from almost cutting her position just the previous year. She was saved, barely, by the receipt of a grant she had submitted almost as a joke. It was a two and a half million dollar payday from some big Wall Street firm investigating the similarities and differences in financial reporting between the United States and China.

Janet often joked that she had sold her soul for a paycheck, but Ava could tell it really rankled. She knew Janet was suspicious of the money, and had once wondered aloud whether the C.I.A. was laundering money through Wall Street for her research.

Until now, that was about as far as any of Ava’s friends or coworkers had ever gone down the rabbit hole.

“Is there any way I can speak with Tim?” Ava asked bluntly.

Janet blinked in surprise. “I guess you could Skype him. Romania’s, what? Six? Seven hours ahead? Why not just message him?”

“I want him to see something.”

“What?”

“A painting, a miniature portrait.”

“So call him.”

“He’s more likely to pick up if it’s you.”

“Ava—”

“Please, it’s urgent or I wouldn’t ask,” she pleaded.

Janet shrugged and pulled the laptop closer. She clicked on the number and waited as it connected and rang. Ava sat nervously counting the rings until the bobble sound and…

“Hey, Janet. Velcome to Transylvania,” he greeted her in a stereotypical vampire accent, his open, handsome face looking relaxed and well rested.

“Hi, Tim. How’s the sabbatical going?”

“Really great. The icons are amazing, and the cataloguing is not nearly as difficult as we initially thought it would be. I haven’t felt this good since the break—”

She cleared her throat. “Hey, I have Ava here. She needs your help.” Janet dreaded seeing his expression change. She had been his go-to friend for several months after he and Ava broke up. While it had been a mutual decision based on very different personal goals, Tim had definitely taken it harder. Instead, she was relieved to see him breathe deeply and nod.

“Okay, so, what is it?”

Janet turned the laptop around to Ava, who smiled and gave a little wave. “Sounds like you’re having fun.”

“You know I’ve always wanted to do this, so…so what can I do for you?”

She had already pulled the portrait out of her bag and unwrapped it. She lifted it up now and placed it close to the camera. “This is supposedly Odette Swanpoole.”

He whistled through his teeth and leaned in closer to the screen. “Beautiful work and a striking woman, but what does this do to your theory?”

“Blows it all to hell,” she replied with a wry smile. “I guess she could still be of African descent, an escaped slave or the child of one. But it’s unlikely based on what I’ve been told.”

“Where did you get it?”

She looked at him a little helplessly. “I can’t tell you. At least, not until I know more.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Dubious provenance?”

“No, no, it’s not stolen or anything. There are just some questions around it that I need answered first.”

“Have you had it looked at?”

“It came with a letter of authentication from Whiltshire and Milford.”

“Well, Ava, you can’t get any better than that. They are the preeminent appraisers in the business.”

“I know, I know. It’s not that, I believe it is an authentic eighteenth-century portrait. It’s just…” She looked at him with some unease. “They think it’s the work of Jonas Bell.”

Ava saw him tense up. He closed his eyes for a second before looking at her again. “You want the name of the collector.”

“Tim, I need to see that painting.” She held up her hand to stop his objection. “I don’t need it for my research. I have no intention of using it in any way. He doesn’t even have to know the information came from you.”