Chapter 38 Mallory Plantation—Clay #2
“After I finished playing. Tony offered me a drink. I was sipping whisky and reading the newspaper articles on the wall. I saw the ones about Remy and Patrick. One thing led to another, and Tony discovered I knew them and was from their time.” Bastien nodded to Clay. “You pick it up from here.”
“Sure. Let’s see. When Marcelle and I landed in New York City, I remembered reading about the mansion on Fifth Avenue. We went there and met Sean and Eleanor MacKlenna, who had just returned from a European vacation.”
“How are they? I wish they’d come back with ye,” Elliott said.
“They said to check on them in twenty years.” Cautious relief spread over Clay as Elliott’s expression softened, the frown lines around his mouth lessened, and the hard glint in his eyes dimmed, yet an unsettling stillness remained.
“That might be too late for me,” Elliott added.
“Then tell the brooch to take you to 1946 New York City or MacKlenna Farm,” Clay said.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Back to the story. When I called Remy to check in, he asked me to go by McSorley’s to see how Tony was doing.”
“I was expecting him, Ma,” Tony interjected. “I mean not him but someone from the future.”
Elliott dragged a hand across his scalp as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why the hell was that, Tony?”
“Because of Aislinn. She disappeared, and you came to find her. It made sense to me that you would send someone to find Bastien and Marcelle.”
“Back up. You guys left out the best part,” Bastien said. “After I spent the first night with Tony, we planned to go shopping and have lunch with—”
“My daughter, Kaitlyn,” Tony added proudly.
Roisin pressed her palms against her flushing cheeks, and a sharp intake of breath accompanied the surge of joy visible in her eyes. “Daughter?”
Kaitlyn’s voice fractured, barely a breath above a whisper. “Hi, Grandma,” Kaitlyn managed, completely overcome as tears spilled down her face.
Roisin did the same cupping of the cheeks with Kaitlyn, and then she touched her hair. “We could be sisters.” Roisin pulled a tissue from her jeans pocket. “Wait till Phin and Gabe see you.”
“Phin will think he’s the coolest guy around because he’ll have a niece old enough to be his mom,” Clay said. “The boys will have a good laugh over that.”
“Come with me.” Roisin reached for Kaitlyn’s hand but froze mid-air. Her eyes darted past Kaitlyn’s shoulder, and she cocked her head. “Where’s your mother?”
Kaitlyn’s expression softened into sadness. “She died when I was three.”
Roisin absorbed the quiet tragedy, a ragged intake of breath preceding a profound sigh as her eyes misted. “I never got to meet her.”
Tony wrapped a supportive arm around Roisin’s shoulders. “Her name was Carla. I have pictures to show you and will tell you all about her. She was one of Miss Lillian’s nurses. After I show you pictures, you might remember meeting her at the Henry Street Settlement.”
“If she worked for Miss Lillian, then I know she was a remarkable woman.”
Kaitlyn leaned in, her lips grazing Bastien’s jaw. “I’m going with Grandma,” she announced as she swiped her hand at the tears staining her cheeks. “What are you going to do after you clean up this mess?”
Elliott glanced from Bastien to Kaitlyn.
Kaitlyn’s breath hitched, just barely.
“Wait a goddamn minute. Somebody skipped an important detail. Something is brewing between the two of ye.”
Bastien and Kaitlyn flushed instantly.
“Never mind,” Elliott said with a wave, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Ye can tell me later.”
“I’ll move the car, clean up here, and meet you for dinner,” Bastien said to Kaitlyn.
“You need clothes,” Roisin said to Kaitlyn. “I’ve been working on a few pieces for Kenzie. Looking at you, you’re close to the same size. Kenzie won’t mind if I give them to you.”
“No, no.” Kaitlyn shook her head. “I won’t take her clothes.”
“Kenz has a closet full. Take what ye need,” David said. “If she were here, she’d give them to ye.”
“Are you sure?”
David reached for his phone. “Let’s call and ask.”
Kaitlyn shook her head again. “Don’t bother her, please. I don’t want her to have an unfavorable opinion of me before we meet.”
“Ye don’t have to worry, lass. I have a feeling she’ll become yer best friend,” David said, his gaze warm and reassuring.
“That’s settled,” Roisin said. “You and Tony are coming with me, and we’ll go find Phin and Gabe.
We stay with the Fontenots when we’re here.
They have a big house with several bedrooms, and I have a sewing center there.
I’ll pick up Kenzie’s clothes from my studio and take them with us.
If they need alterations, I can do them at the house. ”
“Where is it?” Kaitlyn asked.
“A five-minute walk from here.”
“I’ll help Bastien reserve a suite,” Clay said. “Kaitlyn can stay at the house or with him.”
Roisin studied Bastien. “Is Kaitlyn your soulmate?”
“Yes, ma’am, she is.”
“Then I won’t act like a protective grandmother. You can’t resist the brooches. But I expect a quick proposal and wedding. That’s what Gabe and I did. There’s no need to wait.”
The corner of his eye lifted before a cheeky grin spread across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”
Roisin walked out with Tony and Kaitlyn, while Bastien began unloading the car.
“Remy and I brought your suitcases and your trumpet, Marcelle. They’re in my room. After you and Bastien settle in, we’ll bring them to you,” Clay said.
“That was thoughtful. I’ll be glad to add the Bach Stradivarius to my collection,” Marcelle said.
Elliott glared at Clay. “I sense there’s a lot more going on here than the sugar-coated story ye told us. I want to read yer report tonight, and I want to know why ye thought ye could split up the team.”
“We didn’t know we were splitting it up. We thought Bastien was in Chicago. Marcelle and I went to look for him and ended up in New York City.”
“What about the Robertsons?” David asked.
“We ran out of time,” Clay said. “When we left New York, we were going back to search for them. But then Remy stole Capone’s safe, and we couldn’t stay in Chicago. Another team will have to go back for them.”
“We aren’t leaving for New Orleans until I have a complete understanding of what happened.”
“Show him your journal, Clay,” Remy said.
One last look at the sketches, the Q&A—that was the plan. The universe laughed. No time, no luxury. He jammed the journal into Elliott’s grip, the act abrupt, final, leaving a metallic taste of urgency in his mouth. “Thumb through the sketches, but the Q&A will give you more information.”
Elliott flipped through half the journal, then stopped. “Ye saw him?”
“By him, I guess you’re referring to Erik,” Clay said.
David and Braham both looked over Elliott’s shoulder. “I just want to know one thing,” David said. “Where’s he from?”
“The future.”
“Not another planet?” Braham asked in a disgusted tone. “I can’t believe they did that to us.”
“They’re from a very advanced civilization,” Clay said. “Archibald has been to the future where Violet allowed him to steal Ofello, but he hasn’t gone to Erik and Violet’s time.”
“That means we’re not aliens,” David declared, his voice tight with relief.
“Everything they told us was a lie.” Elliott grimaced as if he had a foul taste in his mouth.
“Most of it.”
“Did ye see Violet?” David asked.
“I did, and now I have some sympathy for her. She was Sten’s captive for twenty-four hours while he tortured four young women. Erik said their doctors tried to treat her, but she couldn’t unsee what Sten did to the women or stop hearing their screams. She shut down emotionally.”
“It has to give ye some relief to know the truth, if that is the truth,” David said, his voice a low, rumbling echo of lingering doubt.
“I think it is.”
“Did Archibald tell ye what the future was like?” David asked.
“A little,” Clay conceded. “But honestly, I didn’t want a bunch of details. Ask him questions. Archibald is open to talking about his trips.”
“That has to wait,” Charlotte said through the intercom. “He needs time to recover.”
“Did ye give Elliott’s message to Erik?”
“I did, and instead of saying yes or no, he sat in the Reception Hall in the Fifth Avenue mansion and answered most of the questions we threw at him,” Clay said.
“Is he coming here?” Elliott asked.
“Erik declared last night we would never see him again. Yet, this morning, there he was, strolling through the park with Bastien as if he’d never made the threat.”
“What does that mean?” David asked. “Is he coming here or not?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say no,” Clay said.
“I’ll look through yer journal. Then I want to meet with ye and Remy to debrief.”
“You’ll want Kaitlyn, Bastien, and Marcelle at the meeting, too,” Clay said. “Kaitlyn listened to Erik as an attorney, Bastien as a warrior, and Marcelle helped me decipher my notes. Their insight will be invaluable.”
“Aye. Now get that goddamn car out of here and clean up the fucking mess ye made.” Elliott turned on his heel. The trail he left behind wasn’t smoking, but the temperature rose by ten degrees.
“What now?” Bastien asked.
“Clay,” Remy said. “Get Bastien and Marcelle settled into their suites and take Skye to mine. I’ll be with Archibald and Charlotte for a while longer. Marcelle, will you help Skye find something to wear from the clothes closet? Clay will show you where it is.”
Skye blew Remy a kiss through the glass. “I’ll see you later.”
“Skye, wait!” Remy called. Then he asked Braham, “Will you give her a mobile? Marcelle can show her how it works and then text me the number.”
“I’ll get them settled,” Clay said. “Then I’ll come back to clean up in here.”
“Where’s yer brooch?” Braham asked Remy.
“It’s in my jacket pocket in the clothes bin in the prep room.”
“If you’re using it to move the car, I’ll go with you,” Clay said.
“Yer hands will be busy cleaning up this shit. David and I’ll do it. But give me yer brooch.”
“Neither one of us has made a lateral trip,” David reminded Braham.
“It’s not very different,” Clay said. “Instead of reciting the chant, you press your finger on the inscription, and tell the brooch where to go. Be specific. Tell it to take you to the new barn, if that’s where you want to go.”
“Ye could’ve done that and saved yerself a few hours of cleanup work,” Braham said.
“I’m sorry about this, Braham. Is there any permanent damage?” Clay asked.
“We can’t fix the monitor. I’ll send the bill for a new one to Kevin. He’ll take the cost of it out of yer account.”
Kerching!
“I’ll need a new cabinet for the scuba gear. Some of the gear might need to be replaced,” Braham continued.
Kerching!
“Ye’ll have to paint the walls. I have extra paint, so ye won’t have to pay for that.”
Kerching—again!
“Restoring a 1926 Chevrolet will cost more than a new monitor, cabinet, equipment, and paintbrushes.”
And one more kerching for the massage he’d need after painting the room. Braham wouldn’t stop pointing out spots he missed until the entire room had a fresh coat of paint.