Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Smuggling a six-foot-two man in a nineteen-twenties suit across campus was not my brightest idea. It took some convincing to get him to trust me enough to leave with me, but once we left the archives, Oliver followed me almost gleefully.
“What sort of technology is this?” His eyes are wide as he leans forward waving a hand between the doors. I hadn’t thought about how much of an anomaly my world would be to him.
“They’re automatic doors,” I say with a giggle. Taking two steps I walk through the doors and turn back to face Oliver. “See?”
He looks at me cautiously but follows my lead, stepping through the doors looking more and more amazed. “Amazing,” he says, walking backward and then practically skipping through once more.
“Alright alright, let’s not make a scene,” I say.
In the short walk from the library to my car, Oliver marvels at electric bicycles and nearly walks into a lamppost watching a Tesla drive by. I can’t wait for him to learn about cell phones and flat-screen TVs.
By the time I shoved him into my apartment, my nerves were shot while he was grinning like a kid at the fair.
Now he’s standing in front of my microwave, wide-eyed as the ramen cup spins inside. “It’s cooking in there?” he asks, leaning down like he might catch it whispering secrets.
“It’s called instant ramen,” I say, trying not to laugh. “You’ll live on it if you ever go to college.”
He looks at me as if I insulted him. “I went to Harvard University.”
I throw my hands up in surrender. “Okay there, smarty pants.”
Oliver smirks right as the microwave beeps. He jerks back like it barked at him. I pull the cup out and set it on the counter. “Careful! It’s hot, so let it sit for a minute.”
He watches steam curl from under the lid, then looks at me like I’ve handed him buried treasure. “A marvel of science,” he says solemnly.
I roll my eyes, but warmth bubbles in my chest as I grab a second cup. We end up sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of my coffee table, our ramen cups steaming between us.
“Go ahead,” I say, handing him a fork.
He twirls the noodles, slurps a mouthful, and his eyes go wide. “This is the bee’s knees!”
I laugh, almost choking on my own noodles. “The what?”
“The bee’s knees. Cat’s pajamas. The real McCoy,” he lists off proudly, then winks.
“You sound like a walking slang dictionary.”
“You sound like a dictionary, full stop.” He smirks. “But a pretty one.”
Heat rushes to my face. I hide behind another bite of ramen. “Don’t flirt with me. You’re supposed to be missing, presumed dead.”
He sobers slightly, fork pausing. “So that’s the story in your time.”
“That’s the story,” I confirm, my gaze softening.
“It’s murky. We only have rumors and talk to go off of, but the facts are that Eleanor and Clara disappeared.
” I grab my book bag by my feet and rummage through it.
“You disappeared during the search for them. No one knows where you went and made assumptions you were a runaway or possibly killed.”
His expression flickers, and I see the same sadness in his eyes that I’d first seen in the photograph. “I disappeared during the search because I somehow wound up here.”
I shrug. “You mean you didn’t plan to walk through a book and wind up in some college girl’s apartment?”
He rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not.” He looks at me now, his expression softening. “If I had to end up anywhere, I guess I could’ve done worse.”
Something in my chest tightens. Yeah. It’s not so bad having him around.
“So what happened?” I ask before taking another bite of ramen.
He looks down at his hands then sighs. “Eleanor and Clara went missing…or ran away. I’m not sure which, but I know something bad happened, and I can’t figure out what.
” He looks at me, his eyes serious. “Eleanor was too smart for her own good. She’d never do anything without a good reason.
If something happened, she would have told me, someway somehow.
Father had been behaving erratically over the last couple weeks, so I started digging.
Things weren’t adding up with his finances with missing entries, money moving in and out without record, and large payments to people who didn’t exist. I snuck into his study one night to look again, and when I opened his ledger, it glowed, and then poof.
” He waves his hand toward me. “Here I am.”
“Here you are,” I repeat. “Do you think Eleanor and Clara could have left intentionally? If your father’s financials weren’t adding up, maybe he was involved in something dangerous. Gangs were, or are, a big thing in your time, right?”
Oliver smirks. “You know your history. I’m impressed, but yes. The gang activity was growing in our area.”
I hum, tapping my fork on the table. “How about we start there then? We can go back to the archives tomorrow and grab the ledgers. We’ll comb through them together to see if anything stands out. If Eleanor left you a clue, it may be in a place she knew you’d look.”
Oliver looks at me stunned. “You’re going to help me?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
He blinks. “I don’t know. I’m used to doing things alone, I suppose.”
I place my hand over his. “So am I, but you shouldn’t have to search for them alone. Plus, I’m writing a paper about you for a class.”
“Just promise to make me sound like the hero, alright?” He smiles crookedly at me, and I can’t help the fluttering in my chest.
“You got it.”