Page 3

Three

M y outhouse hit the ground with a smooth whoosh. I thanked my lucky stars I’d nailed the landing. My focus wasn’t on my vessel. Marco’s red race car wouldn’t be on the landing pad next to mine, and the guilt gnawed at my gut.

I should have stayed with him in Nassau.

The door to my vessel flung open. Special Agent Jake McCoy stood in front of me wearing a black suit, hands on hips, short brown hair shellacked into perfection, and big brown eyes framed by irritated eyebrows. “Where the hell have you been? We saw Mortas on the travel screen. He’s been back for over an hour.”

“That’s impossible. I saw him minutes before I left.” Not exactly true since I spent time begging Marco not to stay in 1718. I got out of my vessel, pushed past Jake, and stepped down from my landing pad. “We had some trouble.”

“Jesus, Jennifer, the moon cycle is closed. You barely made it.” He glanced around the half-filled hangar. His eyes stopped on Marco’s empty landing pad. “Marco’s coming, right?”

I shook my head, fighting back guilty tears. “Marco’s not coming.”

“What do you mean Marco’s not coming?” Jake stared at me like I’d somehow fucked up the mission. “Did you find the eye?”

“Can you please come down from my landing pad?” I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to give any more details until he removed himself from center stage.

A few seconds later, Jake stood in front of me. “What happened?” His tone was smoother, soothing, but I could see he was waiting for a plausible explanation.

“We found Sasha.”

“Sasha?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t speak to her. She left with a band of pirates.”

“Pirates?” Jake repeating my words reminded me of the gypsy’s parrot.

“Before Marco could woo her with his Romeo words, she got into a boat with pirates. They rowed toward a ship. It was all I could do to keep Marco from swimming after them.”

“Shit. Marco stayed.” Jake took a minute to process then his hands closed into fists. “Why can’t my travelers be compliant, for fuck’s sake!”

“I’m compliant.” I paused, trying to find the words to explain. “Marco stayed to complete the mission.”

Jake gave me that calculated stare he used when he knew I wasn’t giving him all the details. “And your take on the situation?”

I bit into my trembling lip. I didn’t want to tattletale, but if Marco didn’t return, I wanted to go back and help him. I couldn’t keep Marco’s secret for fear Jake wouldn’t send me the next moon cycle. My shoulders slumped, and I took on the posture of a bowed board. “He’s compromised. He has feelings for Sasha and wants to rescue her from the pirates.”

Jake narrowed his eyes in an I-can-read-between-the-lines stare. “Does Sasha need rescuing?”

Here it came. The moment I could lie for Marco or tell the truth and get him in loads of trouble. Maybe I could ride the fence, fuzzy up the details until we knew more. My inner voice held up a paint swatch that showed shades of gray.

I gave a little throat-clearing cough into my fist. “It’s unclear whether she went on her own accord or if she was coerced. Sasha was dressed like a man.” A very petite, feminine man.

“A man?” More parrot talk.

“A disguise. We also discovered she was possibly taken aboard Charles Vane’s ship.” Possibly was a very gray word. I mean, could we really trust a toothless gypsy?

“ The Charles Vane?” Jake’s eyes widened to the size of ding dongs. “The ruthless pirate who tortured his captives and murdered members of his own crew?”

My stomach grumbled loudly in response. Jake ran a hand over his mouth and chin as if wiping the frustration off his face and focusing on the fact I needed food and rest for my wobbly legs.

Time travel has side effects, and he was debriefing me in the middle of the hangar. General Potts, our leader at the WTF, would disapprove.

“I know you did your best.” He put a hand on my shoulder, squeezed gently. His silent I’m sorry . “It’s just that the time portal isn’t stable. The travelers aren’t returning a few hours after jumping anymore, and I was worried you wouldn’t make it back. Go to the blue room. Get more than coffee.”

“Yes, sir.” See how compliant I can be?

* * *

I stopped by the women’s locker room and picked up my new Tory Burch cell phone wallet. I loved the convenience of not having to carry a wristlet. It held my phone, my tube of M.A.C. Brave Red lipstick, my house key, and my only credit card not maxed out. There was also a slot for cash, but it was currently empty.

My phone had pitiful reception at Gitmo and only one percent power on the battery. I’d forgotten to charge it. I applied my lipstick, left a kiss on the mirror, and headed to my dreaded debriefing.

The blue room, the place we used to brief and debrief our travelers, held the dank, dungeon-esque scent of quarters located in the bowels of the most secure prison in the world.

As I walked in, the smell of freshly brewed coffee overshadowed the hint of dungeon. A spread of sandwiches, cheeses, crackers, and fruit covered a silver tray beside the coffee station. No donuts. Damn.

Two of my team members sat at the conference table. Caiyan’s nephew, Campy, looked up from his yellow pad and smiled wide. He had dark wavy hair, college-boy muscles, dimples that attracted girls by the truckload, and a heart as big as Texas. He hadn’t worked at the WTF long enough to lose his new-penny shine.

“Hi.” Campy leaned back and squinted his eyes at me. “You look like you lost your cat.”

“I don’t have a cat.” I loaded a plate and turned toward the table. Campy’s transporter, Fredericka, was on leave, taking care of her recently departed grandfather’s estate. In her absence, Ace filled in. He sat next to Campy, wearing a pink feather boa and frowning at my current attire, a floral shift dress and inexpensive heels.

“What’s with the outfit?” Ace pointed his pencil at me, wanding it up and down at my clothes as if he could turn them into a ball gown.

“I’m going to Uncle Durr’s wedding. It’s in Mount Vernon, at the farm.”

“That explains the shoes, hon, but what about the shower curtain you’re wearing?”

I looked down at my boxy dress. It wasn’t flattering, but it was comfortable, and it had pockets. “It has pockets.”

Ace placed a hand over his heart and gave me his most ungracious look of disapproval. “Blimey, have you learned nothing from me?”

“I think ye look pretty,” Campy interrupted before Ace began one of his fashion rants. “Did you find the eye?”

Everyone was worried Fredericka’s twin sister, Sasha, had run off with an essential pawn in our time traveler game of chess. The King’s eye was a rare pink diamond the size of my big toe. Sasha had stolen it out of her grandfather’s warm, dead hand.

I sat down across from Ace. “Sort of. We saw someone Marco thinks is Sasha.”

“And?” Campy reached across the table, stealing one of my grapes and popping it in his mouth. Marco had done the same in the Nassau tavern, and my heart squeezed.

“She left with a group of men. We couldn’t reach her in time.” I took a bite of my ham and cheese on rye and sighed. Time travel makes you hungry and tired. I was satisfying the hungry, and after my interrogation, the tired would come like a band of banshees sucking the life out of me. I’d have to push through to stay awake at the wedding.

“Why couldn’t you get to her? Didn’t Marco the Magnificent use his gift?” Ace leaned forward, one hand under his chin, the other stroking his boa. “Where is that engine-revving angel?”

“He’s, uhm, coming later. Look, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather tell the story once.” I glanced around the room. “Where’s the rest of our team?”

Campy tapped his pencil on the yellow pad filled with notes from his mission. “Tina and Gerry returned earlier in the day. Agent McCoy debriefed them. Tina left, but Gerry’s in the travel lab. Al needed him to help watch the screens since Pickles had to leave early for a parent-teacher conference or some shite.”

Our Australian teammate, Brodie, who was also my cousin Gertie’s current boyfriend, was still recovering from a broken leg and hadn’t been released to travel. Without Caiyan and now Marco, our team felt small.

I finished my sandwich. Campy doodled around the edges of his notes on the yellow pad while Ace watched makeup tutorials on TikTok.

Gerry whipped into the room wearing a tank top, board shorts that made his legs disappear, and an unnaturally good attitude. He was four foot five inches, had thick auburn hair, and, according to Tina, housed a sea monster in his trousers.

“What’s up, friends?” He climbed into the chair beside me.

“Agent McCoy needs to get a move on. We’ve been back for over an hour.” Ace tossed the loose end of his boa over his shoulder. His ruby-red lips puckered into a protruding pout.

I glanced down at my phone. If Jake would get a move on, I’d have enough time to get home and ride to Uncle Durr’s wedding with Gertie.

Ace fidgeted in his chair, and a flock of feathers floated in the air.

“Are you going somewhere?” I plucked a wayward pink feather off my dress.

Ace straightened, his face split with an excited grin. “I have a date with a sandy beach, a cold ’rita, and a few pals. Anyone want to join me?”

I looked at him and cringed. I was done with sandy beaches. At least until the next moon cycle. “Can’t. I have the wedding and a day job and enough sand between my toes to last for a while.”

Campy shook his head. “Sounds cool, but I’m meeting my mum in Scotland for holiday before I start the fall quarter.”

Gerry stared at Ace through slitted eyes, like he’d rather throw himself in front of a speeding train. “Uhm, negative.”

“Losers gonna lose.” Ace slunk back against his chair.

Gerry leaned in next to me and squeezed my forearm. “I saw Ferrari stay behind on the big screen. And I wanna hear all the dirty details.”

Campy dropped his pencil. “No shite?”

Ace shot up in his chair. “Do tell.”

Jake entered the room, laptop in his hands, no doubt to take account of my every word. He sat at the head of the table and opened the laptop. “Jen, the floor is yours.”

I explained what happened in Nassau and that Marco stayed behind, leaving out the stars in his eyes every time he said Sasha’s name.

“The guy’s gone mental.” Campy shifted uncomfortably. “Why couldn’t he jump next moon cycle and find Sasha?”

“He’s after the eye.” Gerry scowled at Campy. “He’ll do anything to get it. I always knew he wasn’t a team player.”

“No. That’s not true. He cares about—” I couldn’t rat Marco out.

“He cares about what?” Campy looked at me with eyes that asked what in the hell could be worth staying in the past.

“He cares about finding what Sasha is after.” I glanced at Jake for the OK to tell them. He nodded.

“We think she boarded a ship captained by Charles Vane.”

Gerry shivered. “Vane was a real bad dude.”

Jake paused and nodded in agreement. “Stevenson’s nonfiction about a pirate’s life would be a good reference. It’s the correct era, the Golden Age of Piracy.”

“I didn’t know he wrote a how-to for pirating.” Gerry shrugged and sent me one of those suspicious, secretive glances.

“If Marco doesn’t return next moon cycle, you’ve got to send me back.” Research be damned. I wanted Marco back.

“No way.” Three heads shook at me in unison.

A fourth and much louder voice rang across the room. “No.” Jake stared at me with eyes set in stone.

“Jake. I?—”

“You know we only jump if the brigands jump. Mortas returned. That means Marco has gone rogue.”

A unified gasp circled the table.

“Sasha’s a brigand,” I pleaded.

“She hasn’t been classified yet. I can’t send you unless a brigand jumps to Nassau. I’m down defenders as it is and might need to send you to scout a mission. Alone. Jiminy Crickets!”

I cocked my head at the G-rated oath.

Jake looked down at his hands. “Angel asked me to quit cussing.”

Campy huffed. “Why do all the lassies want us to give up our most stellar words?”

“I know it’s hard to manage the time travelers and keep it G-rated.” I tried to sound sympathetic. “But Jake, this is Marco.”

“Jennifer, I’m trying to run a government operation here. Just because Marco goes splashing off after some woman doesn’t mean we drop everything and chase after him.”

“Yeah, I get that, but Sasha’s got the eye. That makes her dangerous. She’s after something in Nassau. And that something is probably a key. You know the folklore.” I made air quotes with my fingers. “You need the King’s eye to find the King’s key.”

“Jen has a point, Agent McCoy,” Ace said. “If the pirates abducted Sasha, there’s a chance that some dirty scoundrel could get his filthy hands on the eye.”

“How could you not think that’s a problem?” I pounded my fist on the table.

“Forgive me if my pirate knowledge isn’t up to date,” Jake said. “But if a band of pirates took Sasha, and if Marco doesn’t return, how exactly do you plan to get on board Captain Vane’s ship?”

“Sasha was dressed as a man. I can do the same.” I lifted my chin, as if faking my way on a pirate ship was an everyday task.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jake crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. “You don’t know anything about sailing. If you dress as a man and get on a ship, they’ll put you to work. And that’s if they don’t figure out you’re a woman.”

“He’s got you there, cupcake,” Gerry said. “Besides, how you gonna hide those tits?”

I rolled my eyes at Gerry. “I can manage.”

“Jen,” Campy’s forehead creased with premature worry lines. “If the pirates discover you, they’ll throw you in the Brig or hang ye from the mast or worse.”

“Campy’s right.” Jake nodded, then shook his head. “I can’t have that on my conscience. No way in hell am I sending you. If and when the time comes, I’ll send Brodie or Gerry.”

“Gee, thanks.” Gerry frowned up at Jake. “I’ve always wanted to wash piss off the deck of some rotten wooden boat. Guys of my stature don’t do well in the 1700s.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Jake glanced at the clock on the wall. “Let’s table this conversation for a later date. We’ll see what happens when the next moon cycle opens. In the meantime, study up on the Golden Age of Piracy.”

I glanced at my phone again. I’d be late to Uncle Durr’s wedding if I didn’t leave soon.

“Meeting adjourned,” Jake said. Everyone pushed back from the table and headed out. Jake stopped me at the door. “Don’t worry. We’ll make the wedding.”

“We?” I looked over at Jake.

“Yeah, your uncle Durr invited me. He’s had a soft spot for me ever since I helped him repair the still.” Jake smiled at the memory. “Angel’s coming as my plus one.”

Jake had grown up with me. In elementary school, I loved having him as a best friend. Later, he was my more off-again than on-again boyfriend. Best friend worked out better than lover. And much better than Boss Jake.

I wanted to time travel. I wanted to save the world from evil time-screwer-upper brigands. So, I adapted and accepted Jake as my boss.

“That’s gr-r-reat that you’re coming, and you’re bringing Marco’s sister.” I did a mental head slap. I’d invited Caiyan as my plus-one. Months ago, Caiyan stole his key from the WTF and disappeared into the night like Batman.

If Caiyan showed up, Jake would arrest him. It was never good to have a commotion at a family wedding. And the take-down of an AWOL time traveler qualified as a commotion. I’d be blamed for ruining the wedding.

“Gosh, look at the time.” I waggled my phone at him. “Gotta run.”

“Later.” Jake stacked his papers and eyed me suspiciously as I tried not to run from the room.

Once I was out of earshot, I sprinted down the hall to the hangar where my outhouse waited. Not an easy task in heels and my shift dress. My bargain basement pink strappy stilettos clicked loudly on the tile.

I plucked my cell phone from my dress pocket and opened it to text Caiyan.

Warn him not to come.

My phone was dead.

Damn.