Page 38 of The Book of Lost Hours

Anton walked toward her again and came to a stop in front of her, inches away.

“Why don’t you ask this Moira? Since she is so certain that it was me.

Show her that handkerchief”—he pressed two fingers to Amelia’s temple, lowering his voice—“and see how long it takes for them to put a bullet in your head. Like they want to do to me… like they probably did to Ernest Duquesne.”

Amelia jerked away from him, slapping his hand out of the air.

He smirked at her, unbothered by the violence this time. “It is the weak man who follows the orders of others without questioning. Obedience may make for good soldiers, but it makes for even greater tragedies.”

Around him, the room started to fade out. The darkness of the time space was closing in around them again.

“What’s happening?” Amelia asked.

“The memory is ending,” Anton said with a shrug. “We go back to the time space now.”

“But I…”

Anton wagged a finger at her. “No more talking. You go back through your door, and you tell your American friends that I was too smart for you. And the next time you attack me, I will not be so understanding. I only do this now because Ernest Duquesne was my friend. I hope you and I might also be. But until then, we will be like our countries. You hit me, I hit back harder.”

Seconds later, the world had faded completely. Anton was gone before her eyes even had time to adjust to the darkness, leaving her with the incriminating handkerchief in her hand.

W HEN F RED emerged from the time space alone, Moira’s heart sank clear down to her stomach. She paced as Jack berated Fred for information.

“What do you mean they disappeared? He took her through his door?” Jack was asking.

“No, not a door. They were just gone. Out of thin air.”

Moira’s heart clenched. “Time walking,” she said quietly.

Jack looked at her. “A little louder, please, Donnelly.”

Moira swallowed, instantly wishing she hadn’t said it. “They’re time walking. He took her back into a memory.”

“Why would he do that?” Fred asked.

“I don’t know,” Moira said, trying to look calm. But inside, she was screaming. Anything could happen inside of a memory, and they would never know.

“How would he know how to do that?” Jack said skeptically. “I thought the only people who knew were Ernest and—”

“I don’t know,” Moira said before he could finish.

There was a tense moment of silence and then Jack took a few steps in her direction. “Someone taught him.”

“Apparently,” Moira said with a half-hearted shrug.

“ Ernest taught him,” Jack said, voice full of suspicion.

Moira met his eye. In an instant, she knew what he was thinking. And she needed to stop that train before it got too far away from her.

“We don’t know that.”

“Don’t we?” Jack asked flatly. “Maybe those lies we orchestrated about Ernest being a communist were true.”

“If that were true, then why would Anton Stepanov have attacked Amelia? He could have learned on his own.”

“Oh, I doubt that. I’ve been involved with the TRP for years and never knew a man who figured it out. Not without help. And now all of a sudden we get a Russian boy, a kid who was seen trailing after Ernest for weeks before he disappeared, and you’re telling me it’s a coincidence?”

Moira stood up again, her own anger beginning to surface. “Jack. Please. Let’s focus on the situation at hand. Amelia is inside the time space with a Russian aggressor. I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Calm down…”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Do something.”

“What do you want me to do, Moira? Go in after her? If she’s in some kind of memory, there’s no reaching her.”

“Then I’ll go,” Moira said, starting for the door.

Jack caught her arm roughly. “You don’t honestly think I’m going to allow that, do you?”

“Amelia is in trouble.”

“No, she’s not,” Jack said harshly. “At this point, she’s either dead or she’s compromised.”

Moira stared at him, mouth agape. “Compromised? After one conversation? He’s a communist, not a carrier of viral plague.”

“Doesn’t matter. If this kid knows how to time walk, who knows what else he’s privy to. He could be telling her all manner of things. About the rebellion. About Ernest’s history.” There was a momentary pause in which Jack glanced warily at Fred. “About Lisavet Levy.”

Moira’s stomach flipped. If Anton Stepanov had told Amelia about any of that, there would be no talking Jack down from whatever he decided to do.

She opened her mouth to argue but the sound of something moving on the other side of the door stopped her short.

Jack’s head snapped toward it. The knob began to turn.

Fred shifted forward. Jack raised his gun.

The door opened and Amelia came into view. Moira let out a sigh of relief, doing a quick assessment of her condition. Torn sleeve, bruised knuckles, hair coming loose from the braid. But she was alive.

The girl’s wide, terrified eyes saw the gun first thing. Jack didn’t lower it.

“What happened?” he practically growled.

Be smart, Amelia , Moira willed her.

Amelia stepped backward toward the time space, one hand reaching for the door.

“I don’t think so,” Jack snapped.

Amelia let out a squeal as he grabbed her arm and dragged her into the room. He kicked the door shut, throwing her down hard. He raised his gun again. Ready to shoot. At the sight of it, something inside of Moira snapped completely. She raised her own weapon and held it level with Jack’s skull.

“Get away from her, Jack,” she ordered.

Jack turned his head, eyes widening in disbelief. “Moira? What the hell are you doing? Don’t point that thing at me.”

“I said put the gun away.”

After a moment of tension, Jack returned his gun to its holster. “Fred, take the watch from her,” he said, jerking his head at Amelia.

Moira moved to stop him, but Jack turned on her, eyes flashing.

“Who the hell do you think you are, pointing your gun at me?” he said, getting in her face. “You work for me. If I want to shoot the kid, I will.”

“Not as long as I’m here,” Moira said through gritted teeth.

Fred cried out, distracting them both. His face was bleeding, bright red fingernail marks streaked across one cheek.

Jack grunted in frustration and grabbed hold of Amelia’s wrist, finishing the job of removing the watch quickly and efficiently.

He tossed it in Moira’s direction. When Amelia lunged at Jack, he turned around and struck her across the face so hard that her whole head snapped back. The sound made Moira’s stomach turn.

Jack knelt down, elbows on his knees. “Finished?”

Amelia glared at him defiantly, one hand clutching the side of her face.

“Listen here, sweetheart. We can make this as easy or as difficult as you want it to be. It’s up to you. What did that boy say to you that’s got you all riled up?”

“I wasn’t riled up until you pointed a gun at my head,” Amelia spat.

Jack raised his hands, admitting fault. “All right, all right. Fair enough. Then what did happen? Can you tell me that?”

“He caught up to me before I could get to the door.”

“Sure, sure. And then what? Where did he take you?”

“Somewhere in the past. He used one of the books.” Amelia looked at Moira over Jack’s shoulder. Just for a moment. “He was wearing a blue flower,” she said quietly.

Moira stiffened.

“A blue flower?” Jack repeated with a snort. Not understanding the significance. “Sounds adorable. What did he say to you?”

“That he didn’t kill my uncle. That it was just as likely that one of you killed him.”

“And you believe that?”

Amelia said nothing, staring him down.

Jack sighed, pushing onto his feet. He waltzed over to where Moira was standing and plucked the watch from her hand. A sharp, warning look passed between them.

“Let me tell you a few things about your uncle. I worked with Ernest for a long time. I knew him before you were even born. Everyone paints him out to be some kind of saint, but the fact of the matter is he wasn’t always that way.

He was a decent man, don’t get me wrong.

But what he possessed in manners and good breeding, he lacked in other areas.

Truth is, he was difficult. He was self-righteous, arrogant, and self-destructive.

And it got him into trouble. Now, I’m starting to see far too much of him in the way you’re acting right now, and let me tell you, I don’t like it one bit. ”

Moira willed Amelia to stay silent. She knew what it was that Jack saw in her at that moment. It was the same thing Moira herself had seen so many times already. And it had nothing to do with Ernest. Thankfully, Jack hadn’t realized that just yet.

“Is that why you had him killed?” Amelia demanded.

“Amelia…” Moira tried to cut in.

The girl glared at her. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who killed him. Is that what happened the night he came to visit you?”

Silence hit the room like a cold wet blanket. If Moira had been standing any closer to Amelia, she might have slapped her.

“What did she say?” Jack asked in a low voice.

“Amelia, go upstairs,” Moira said. Then to Jack and Fred. “We should discuss this in private. Give Amelia a chance to cool down.”

“I’m not going until you give my watch back,” Amelia piped up, glaring at Moira right along with the rest of them.

Moira turned a cold eye on her. “Fred, take her up.”

Amelia sprang to her feet before Fred could get within ten feet of her. She stormed up the stairs, every bit the bratty teenager.

Nobody spoke for a full minute after she was gone. Moira was watching Jack, Jack was watching her, and Fred was watching them both, perhaps discerning the tension between them. But then again, perhaps not. Fred wasn’t exactly that bright. Finally, Jack spoke.

“Would you care to explain, Donnelly? Or shall I begin pulling teeth?”

Moira folded her arms. “I don’t know what she’s talking about, Jack. Anton Stepanov is trying to cause trouble. He’s planting ideas in her head on purpose to try and save his own skin.”

“Or something else is going on,” Jack said pointedly.

“Jack, I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate here but—”

“Did Ernest come to see you before he died?”

“If he did, don’t you think I would have told you?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Oh, don’t pull that crap, Moira. You and I both know you haven’t always been honest with me.” He came closer, shoving the watch against her shoulder roughly. “In fact, I’m starting to wonder if you know a lot more about what’s really going on here than you’re letting on.”

Moira stiffened her expression and remained quiet.

Jack sneered at her. “Fine. You want to play games? Let’s play a game. Fred, go get the kid and bring her back down here.”

“Fred, don’t go anywhere,” Moira snapped.

Fred froze halfway to the staircase, torn between two bosses.

Jack spoke again, his voice loud and demanding. “Go and get her, Fred. That’s an order.”

Moira’s heart thudded with every step Fred took up the stairs. “I’m not going to let you interrogate her,” she said sharply.

“Oh, I’m not going to interrogate her,” Jack said with a dark laugh. “You’re going to clean this up for me.”

Clean it up. It was an order Moira knew too well. But this time, especially this time, she was particularly loath to comply.

“No.”

“If you won’t let me question the girl my way, then you’re going to get the information out yourself. After all, she’s only Ernest’s niece. What do you care what happens to her?” He broke off and tilted his head. “Unless of course… there’s some reason why you want to protect her?”

A tense silence passed between them.

“Hey, boss?” Fred said from the stairs.

“What?” Jack snapped, wheeling around to face him.

“She’s not up there.”

“Excuse me?”

“The kid. She’s not upstairs. She’s gone.”