Until We Meet Again (11 page)

I have seven days to live.
The thought strikes me the moment I open my eyes. What a
way to wake up! Though frankly, I’m amazed I slept at all. I’d
given up lying in bed at around one in the morning to sit out
on my balcony, listening to the waves.

I’ve already run through the gamut of emotions—fear,
sorrow, rage, disbelief, despair, punctuated with fierce stabs of
hope. I have to trust that Cassandra can do what she thinks
she can. This “Internet” they have in her time can give her vital
information. And in this case, information is everything. We
have the advantage of her being able to find out exactly what
will happen to me before it occurs. That fact alone makes me
think I might just have a chance. A chance to beat this. I dress
quickly, eager to see Cassandra.

Ned is having breakfast on the deck with Aunt Eloise, who
came to check in on her poor, lonely bachelor brother. It’s warm
and brilliantly bright outside. The wind carries the scent of sea
and grass. I breathe it in, and it takes everything in me not to
run out there right now. But Cassandra and I have agreed to be
extra cautious to keep from arousing any suspicion.

Ned glances up from his paper as I sit. We’ve been on frosty
terms ever since New York, though I can see he’s trying his best
to gloss over it. Eloise daintily pecks at her grapefruit, gabbing about what she’ll wear to the party that Ned’s throwing
here next Saturday night. My attention jolts at her words. One
week. That’s the night I’m supposed to die.

“Good morning,” I smile, quickly nodding to her. “Lovely to
see you, Aunt. Now, what’s this I hear about a party?”
Eloise beams. “Hasn’t Ned told you? It’s a big gala for your
uncle’s business. Some big mortgage, right, Ned?”
“A merger,” Ned says with a chuckle. “You remember me
telling you about it, Lon. We’ve finally sorted things out with
Cooper Enterprises.”
“Swell,” I say, my mind spinning over this news. A party on
Saturday night. I’m certain that’s where it will happen. Someone
at the party means to kill me. Unfortunately this opens up the
list of possible suspects dramatically.
“Any fun plans today, Lonnie?” Eloise asks, sipping her tea.
“Meeting up with your friend Charles? Or maybe our dear Fay?”
Ned’s gaze flickers up, but when I meet it, he looks back at
his paper.
“I’m not sure,” I say, pouring myself some coffee.
“You should. She’s been missing you, you know.” Eloise
smiles. “A charming girl, that Fay. And after all, Lonnie, it’s not
every day you get to meet a real New Yorker.”
Ned shuts his newspaper abruptly, and I set the coffeepot
down with a clink.
“What are you talking about, Eloise?” Ned says. “Fay’s
the Cartwrights’ only daughter. Her family is from here in
Crest Harbor.”
Aunt Eloise munches her jam-covered toast, shaking her
head. “No, I don’t think so. Gladys Harper’s sister’s husband
works with Jeffery Duncan, and he says that Fay is staying with
his family for the summer. Up from New York for the summer.
Says he thought everyone knew that. He says Fay was born and
raised on the Lower East Side. A real New York girl from a New
York family.”
Ned scoffs loudly. “Well, I think Gladys Harper’s sister’s husband is full of bushwa.”
“Why, Ned!” Eloise says, appalled.
He frowns. “My apologies, Eloise.” He then folds his paper
and stands. “It seems I have a rather low tolerance for idle
gossip this morning.”
He starts inside but then turns me a look. “Lon. Can I have
a moment?”
I’m still so baffled by this allegation about Fay that I follow
him without protest. Is Aunt Eloise simply spouting tall tales
of the society hags? Or is this girl I’m supposed to marry even
more of a stranger to me than I’d realized?
Ned leads me into his office and sits at his desk with a
deep frown.
“It’s rubbish, Lon. If I can teach you one lesson, it’s to never
listen to old gossips. They spin so many stories that they lose
track of what’s true and what’s a lie.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Fay did seem pretty comfortable when she visited me in Manhattan.”
“She’s a comfortable kind of girl,” Ned says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Well, I’m glad someone was, on that trip.”
Ned drums his fingers on the papers on his desk. He seems to
be searching for the right words. “Listen, Lon. I’ve been meaning to apologize about the way I acted that night. I’m not your
father, though I love you like a son.”
This admission warms me a little.
“I’d just had a rough time, you see,” he continues. “Bad business trip.”
I immediately think about the argument I overheard in his
hotel room. Not to mention the headlights I saw in front of the
house at two in the morning. Then I hear Cassandra’s word:
“murder.” My pulse jumps. This could be my chance to get the
vital information I need.
“Any trouble, Uncle Ned?”
He rubs his forehead but then forces a smile. “No, son.
Nothing you need to worry about.”
“You can tell me,” I say. “It might be important. More important than you know.”
Ned frowns a little at my cryptic statement. I lean forward
across the desk. “Is there someone in New York who might
want to hurt you?”
“What’s all this about?” Ned says, his face going red. “You’ve
been watching too many talkies, Lon.”
He’s not going to give me anything. Maybe he wants to
keep me out of it. Maybe he thinks he’s protecting me. How
wrong he is. I’m about to press harder when I notice the
papers on his desk. They’re stamped with past-due notices in
angry red ink. Ned spots my gaze and flips a file folder shut,
covering the papers. He stuffs the stack in his desk drawer,
and I catch a glimpse of the name at the top of the file:
Cooper Enterprises.
“At any rate,” Ned says, trying to act casual. “I suppose I
should be off. Have a few things to finalize for that merger.”
“The merger with Cooper Enterprises,” I say, trying to meet
his eye.
He won’t look at me. “That’s the one, Lonnie.” He stands,
brushing off his suit coat. “You know, I’m having drinks tonight
with Jerome Smith, the big cheese over at Cooper. You ought
to join us. It’ll be a good learning experience for you to see how
business works.”
I think of Cassandra anxiously waiting for me on the beach.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to, Ned.”
“Oh nonsense. What plans could you have? You’re not going
down to that beach again, are you?”
Tension snaps me like a whip. “I…”
But Ned seems to have made the comment glibly. He pats me
on the shoulder as he breezes out of the office. “We’ll be in the
library just after supper. I’ll expect you to be there.”

“You need to go.” Cassandra is calmly resolute. It’s rather
endearing to see the change that’s come over her since she
decided to fight my fate. She reminds me of a lady detective in
one of the dime novels I used to devour as a kid. No stone can
be left unturned. No clue deemed trivial.

“I want to be with you tonight,” I tell her, brushing my fingers through her soft hair.
“Later,” she says. “This is more important.”
“More important than spending my final week with you?”
“We’ve spent all day together. Besides, you’ll have a lot more
than a week if we take this seriously.” She presses her lips to
mine in a swift but wine-sweet kiss. “You do some digging
tonight. Get me information I can use, and I’ll be here on the
beach, waiting for you.”
I don’t argue. The girl has me completely besotted. I head back
inside to freshen up in my room. Looking in the little, round
mirror on my wall as I comb my hair, I think about her, about
the softness of her skin, fragrant as a rose petal. Like music, the
first lines of a poem drift into my mind. My gaze falls to the
blank sheets of paper on my desk. They’re serving dinner downstairs, but a few lines can’t hurt. I need to get this down.
I’m just scratching off the final lines of the poem when a
knock raps at my door. I sit up with a start. The dim light from
my window betrays a later hour. Who knows how long I’ve
been writing? Ned’s certainly wondering where I am.
“Coming,” I call out as I jump up from my desk and
straighten my tie.
Walking down to the library, I rebuke myself. Ned’s bound
to become suspicious of that beach with me going there so
much. I have to be more careful. The last thing we need is for
him to start paying attention to what I’m up to. And what if
he really investigated those suspicions? It could be a disaster.
At the polished wooden doors to the library, I resolve to be my
usual, chipper self tonight. But when I step into the room, the
sight I’m greeted with throws me for a loop.
I expected Ned and this Jerome Smith character, but the library
is nearly full. At least a dozen men stand scattered about, sipping brandy and smoking Ned’s best Cuban cigars. I don’t know
these men. They aren’t Ned’s usual crowd. These aren’t uppercrust Crest Harbor men. They seem to have money. Their sharp,
tailored suits proclaim that much. But something about them
makes me think they know their way around the rougher streets.
“There he is!” Ned’s voice booms across the room. “Lonnie,
come on over here.”
I force a polite smile as I head over to him, but my eyes dart from
one face to another. In the corners of the room, I notice four men
who have the unmistakable air of bodyguards. They’re big and
stone-faced, and watching every move I make. My throat tightens.
Am I being paranoid? Has knowing that I will be murdered
in a week made my brain turn everyone into a murderer?
Ned passes me a brandy, which I happily tip back. The warm,
spicy drink sizzles through me, calming my nerves a bit.
“Lon, I want you to meet Kip Hawkins.” Ned slaps his hand
on the shoulder of the slight man beside him and gives me an
overly jovial smile. “Jerome Smith couldn’t make it. Had some
business. You know how it goes.”
I nod, though I can’t help but feel the significance of this
apparent slight, and it puts me all the more on edge.
Kip Hawkins extends his hand with an oily smile. “Pleased to
make your acquaintance.”
“Lon here is the one I was telling you about, “Ned says,
beaming. “Has quite the promising career ahead. Top of his
class at prep school. And star of the basketball team too!”
“My uncle likes to exaggerate,” I say, forcing a smile.
Ned laughs. “Nonsense! Bright kid, our Lon. With a bright
future. College and law school, and once he’s done with that,
it’s straight to the top firm in New York. Business law. Just like
his old man.”
Kip Hawkins nods and smiles. “Excellent. Maybe you can
teach your uncle a thing or two.”
Ned laughs loudly—too loudly—at the comment. “Ain’t that
the truth? Yes, sir, this kid’s a champ. And a real catch with the
ladies. Good thing too, because, boy, did he get himself a prize
gal. Isn’t that right, Fay?”
My brow lowers, but I follow Ned’s outstretched hand. At
his gesture, a crowd of three men near the fireplace glance
over at us and then part. Fay is perched on one of the big,
burgundy armchairs, talking quite closely with a big, muscular fellow in his twenties with black hair and olive skin.
Italian, I think. When the men around them move, her eyes
snap to me.
Fay always looks beautiful, but tonight she’s dressed to kill in
a tight, red gown that cuts low on the top and rides high up her
slender legs. She takes a casual puff from a long, slim cigarette
holder. The smoke curls like a white snake from her scarlet red
lips. With a little smile, she hands the cigarette holder to the
muscular fellow she had been speaking with. He doesn’t take
his eyes off her.
“Why, hello, Lonnie,” she says, her voice more sultry
than usual.
Ned laughs again and slaps Kip Hawkins on the back. “What
did I tell you? Have you ever seen such a sweet little honey as
that one?”
Fay rises fluidly from her chair. Without moving her gaze
from mine, she glides across the room toward us. Every man
here watches her. And how could they not? She positively
oozes allure.
“Your nephew really is a cad,” she says to Ned, coming to his
side and linking arms with him. “He’s been so busy studying
lately. What’s a lonely girl like me to do?”
My face feels hot. Suddenly I wonder if this wasn’t Ned’s plan
in inviting me here: to throw me in Fay’s arms again.
“Aw, Lon’s not studying,” Ned barks. “He’s been spending all his free time at that ugly, old beach. You’d think this
one was training to be an Olympic champion backstroker
or something.”
Fay’s eyebrow lifts slightly. “Interesting. He’s never mentioned a penchant for swimming before.”
I scramble for a reply, but Ned talks over me. “You ought to
take her out there, Lon. Yes, that’s a swell idea. Go show Fay
your beach.”
Taking Fay to the beach is, of course, out of the question. Not
with Cassandra waiting there for me. I try my best to appear as
relaxed as possible. “I don’t think so.”
“Aw, take her,” Ned says, his voice overly loud. He gives me
a suggestive nudge in the ribs. “A little moonlight swim doesn’t
sound too bad, eh, Lonnie?”
Fay smiles. “Of course, I couldn’t ruin my new dress, so I
guess that means…”
Ned roars with laughter, and I decide I loathe him when
he’s drunk. The other men laugh too, and Fay smiles, enjoying
every ounce of their attention.
“I shouldn’t,” I say, taking a step away from Ned. “It would
be rude to leave the guests.”
“Oh nonsense. We’re just a bunch of old men talking about
drab things.”
I give him a pointed look. “I thought you said this would be
a good learning experience for me.”
Ned’s smile fades somewhat, and a glint of severity comes
into his eyes. “I’ve changed my mind.”
Fay reaches out for my hand. “Do take me, Lon. I fancy a
walk on the beach anyhow. All this cigar smoke is making me
positively ill.”
“There now,” Ned says, the sharpness still in his face. “You
take Fay out to get some fresh air.”
A tremor of panic crawls through me. How would I explain
Cassandra, waiting on the beach for me in her strange, future
clothes? And worse, how would I explain Fay to Cassandra?
Fay grabs my hand. “Oh, come on, Lawrence. Don’t be such
a chump.”
Ned’s eyes narrow ever so slightly. He has the same look on
his face that he did that night in New York. “Go on, son.”
Fay pulls me out the glass double doors and I go along. I
have enough to worry about right now, and angering Ned
seems imprudent. Besides, surely I can stall Fay before we get
to the beach.
“It’s been ever so long since we were alone together,” Fay says,
her grip tight on my hand. “One would almost think you’d
stopped caring for me.”
I sigh. “Fay…”
She stops abruptly. Spinning around to face me, she put
her finger to my lips. “Don’t speak, darling. Let’s just enjoy
the moment.”
Her arms latch around my neck. There’s something in her
eyes I haven’t seen before. Almost as if she can tell that I noticed,
the strangeness vanishes, and she gives me one of her sly smiles.
“Kiss me, you cad.”
Her lips come to mine, hot and urgent, and she presses her
body against me. Fay’s always been a forward girl, but there’s
definitely something different about her tonight. A fierceness
to her kiss. A desperation in the way she grabs me.
I grip her upper arms and peel her off me. “Stop.”
She’s breathing hard. “What is it?” I catch a steely glint in her
eyes. “We need some privacy, don’t we?”
She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the path and the
beach. Alarm flares inside my chest like a light. It would
wound Cassandra deeply to see me like this. And with the way
she’s acting tonight, Fay’s sure to make some kind of scene.
I forcefully halt, jerking Fay’s slender body toward mine with
the inertia. She falls into my arms with a giggle.
“That’s more like it.” She kisses me again. Her tongue slides
along the inside of my mouth. A flicker of raw desire heats in
me, but I put it out. I don’t love Fay.
As she grabs for my belt, I take her by the arms. “I won’t do
this, Fay.”
“Why not? Why have you been turning me away? Is there
someone else?”
“It’s not that,” I say. It would do no good to tell her about
Cassandra, even if I did leave out the little detail that she’s from
a hundred years in the future.
Fay’s eyes narrow. “I know you want me, Lawrence. You’ve
wanted me all summer. Stop playing noble.”
I pull my hand away. She laughs, but there’s no mirth in her
voice or on her face.
“You’re pathetic. You’re not man enough to take me.”
I shake my head. “I respect you too much.”
“You’re a bad liar,” she snarls.
She tries to kiss me again, but I pull her off. Then she
starts to fight, trying to kick me and punch me with all her
strength.
I struggle to make her look at me. “What’s gotten into you,
Fay? Why are you acting like this?”
“Let go!”
Her eyes flash toward the house. They’re focused on something. Her lips form words, but when she notices me following
her gaze, she cries out.
“No!”
I see him. The muscular Italian fellow from the library. The
one who was speaking so intently with Fay. He’s standing on
the stone veranda. Watching us. I have the feeling he’s been
watching us the entire time.
And Fay knew he was there.
The stranger darts into the bushes, but it’s too late. I stare at
Fay. “Who is that?”
“You think I know?”
My grip on her upper arms tightens. “You were talking with
him in the library.”
“He’s nobody. Just some rube.”
“Why was he watching us?”
She smirks. “Maybe he thought he’d get a good show.”
“You told him to watch us, didn’t you? Why? Did you think I
was going to hurt you? Did you think you weren’t safe?”
“That would have been ridiculous, seeing as how you won’t
lay a finger on me.”
She pulls herself free from my grip. She’s struggling to look
like she doesn’t care.
“Fay. Talk to me. Tell me why you’re being this way? Is it…
lady troubles?”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re a bastard, Lawrence.”
With that, she dashes back toward the house. I stand
there for a moment, still trying to wrap my brain around
her actions. When I get back in the house, however, no one
seems ruffled. Thank goodness she didn’t make a scene. I
search the room for the fellow who had been watching us.
But he’s long gone.
Gritting my teeth, I move deeper into the library. In spite
of the upsetting events with Fay, I can’t forget my real objective in attending this party. I need information about Cooper
Enterprises for Cassandra. I won’t leave the party without it.
My suspicions remain, however, as I look around the room full
of strange faces. Who can be trusted? No one, it seems.
My gaze falls on a man sitting nearby. He’s dressed in a toolarge business suit and is flipping aimlessly through the large
atlas on the coffee table. He’s drunk. Perfect.
I bend down and give his arm a friendly pat, putting on an
easy smile. “Hey there, chum. Looks like your drink’s almost
gone. Want a refresher?”
He smiles. “Why sure, son. Thanks.”
I refill his brandy quickly, scanning the room as I go. Ned’s
still talking with Kip Hawkins, and most of the other men
seem distracted with their various conversations.
“You’re a real pal,” the drunk man says as I hand him a
fresh glass.
“No trouble at all.” I motion to the chair on the other side of
the coffee table. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Be my guest,” he slurs.
“Thanks.”
He holds out a hand. “Name’s Hank.”
“Lawrence,” I say. I take a casual sip of my drink. “So, you
from Cooper Enterprises?”
Hank tips his glass in the air. “That’s the one.”
“High-up fellow? Or middle man?” I grin. “You’ll pardon my
nosy questions. I’m going to law school, see, and I’m real curious about the way these big businesses run.”
Hank chuckles. “Sure, sure. No problemo.” He takes a drink.
“I suppose I’m high up, in a manner of speaking. I, uh, help
oversee the under-the-table stuff, if you know what I mean.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Bingo. I try
to appear nonchalant. “Under-the-table stuff, huh? Like what?”
“Oh you know.” He swipes his hand through the air. “Stuff.”
I manage a tight smile. “Dangerous stuff?”
He laughs. “Nah. Not dangerous for me. I run a tight ship
over there at Cape Row.”
“Cape Row?”
“The warehouse. Smith keeps us there in the shadows, by the
docks so’s the coppers think there’s nobody there.”
I take mental note of the information. Cape Row. Warehouse.
Hank stands abruptly. “Listen, I gotta get some fresh air.
Suddenly not feeling so swell, you know?”
I jump to my feet. “Can I ask you another quick question?”
He blinks blearily at me, which I take as a yes. “Who’s that
young guy? The one with the dark hair? Bigger fellow. Tall
and thick?”
Hank shrugs. “How should I know? All them Cartelli
brothers is hard to tell apart. Anyways, thanks again for the
drink, kid.”
He shuffles off, and I watch him go. Cartelli. I make a mental
note to ask Ned about the family later. I don’t know how the
brother I saw fits into the picture, but it seems significant. And
I suspect this won’t be the last time I hear that name.