ZenithRising Page 18

  “Me too,” Noah said. “And since we’re back in the twenty-first century, it should be easy. We might be able to find something ourselves using the internet but there’s also an investigation firm I’ve used before. I figured I’d give them a call.”

  “Or you could have your assistant do it for you.” She got up and grabbed her robe.

  “Hey, where’re you going?”

  She stopped at the doorway and flashed him a smile. “I just realized I’m late for work.”

  “But your boss wants to take a shower with you,” he called as she turned away.

  She came back to him and gave him a firm closed-mouth kiss. “And your assistant would enjoy that too but then it would be another couple hours before we get to work and my curiosity is killing me.”

  He crossed his arms and pouted. “Fine. But I liked you better as my captain.”

  She smirked at him and walked away before the memory he triggered enticed her to change her mind.

  Maggie felt totally refreshed and appropriately dressed when she returned to the common room. Noah was already working at the computer on the dining room table and lunch had been delivered. The clean, manly scent of him reached her nose even before the smell of food reminded her how long it had been since she’d eaten. If she had to choose, her stomach would lose.

  He motioned for her to come sit beside him but when she got close he pulled her onto his lap and into a deep, open-mouthed, tongue-stroking kiss. Despite her intention to stay in work mode, it took him less than a second to melt her resistance. “You win,” she murmured against his mouth.

  “You agree I’m the boss?” He kneaded her breast as he kissed her neck.

  She sighed as her nipple puckered beneath his palm despite the layers of cloth protecting it. “Yes sir. You are the boss.”

  “And you agree you’re supposed to do what I ask?” He lightly pinched the peak.

  “Yes sir.”

  “And you will never ever leave my bed again without my permission.”

  She straightened her back and made a face at him.

  “Too far?” he asked with a crooked grin.

  “Just a tad.” She shifted on his lap so she could see the computer screen. “Anything yet?”

  “I just got on and sent an email to the investigator I mentioned. Hopefully he’ll have time for me this afternoon. How about some lunch before we start our own search?”

  She got off his lap and pulled the lunch tray closer. “How about we eat while we search?”

  He shook his head in mock disappointment. “We have really got to do something about this terrible work ethic of yours.”

  It was fairly easy to discover that Broderick’s father ended up serving two terms in Congress but two hours later they had made no progress uncovering anything about his son or Shannon.

  “It doesn’t mean anything bad happened,” Noah insisted. “Just that he never did anything noteworthy.”

  “Considering his, uh, personality, I think I would have been shocked if he did. But then why would it have been important to save them?”

  Noah gave it some thought. “Maybe it was their child who had to be saved. The investigator has access to all sorts of documents that we don’t. The income tax records alone should tell us a lot.” He quickly checked his email. “Nothing yet. And I’m getting tired of sitting. How about a walk?”

  As they ambled through the hotel lobby, Maggie couldn’t help but think about the day she first arrived at the Davenport. So much had happened since then. Her world and her view of it had been completely altered.

  Suddenly something, or rather someone, very familiar came into view. Pushing a fully loaded baggage cart was her mysterious bellhop. She gave Noah a nudge and they both strode directly into Reynard’s path.

  “Excuse me,” he said politely.

  “Reynard, it’s us,” Maggie said with exaggerated meaning.

  He smiled and nodded. “Ah, yes. Ms. Harrison. And then this would be the most famous author, Noah Nash. I hope you are having a pleasant stay. Was there something I might do for you?”

  She frowned. He looked the same and sounded the same but he didn’t seem to be aware of any of the supernatural encounters they had shared.

  Noah squeezed Maggie’s elbow and replied for them. “Oh no, thank you. She had just told me how helpful you had been and I wanted to say thank you.”

  Reynard smiled. “You are most welcome but I was just doing my job.” He waited for them to move and then continued on his way.

  “Too weird,” Maggie said with a shake of her head. She looked back at the bellhop pushing the cart. Suddenly he looked back at her and she saw a glint of gold in his eyes before he winked at her and turned away again. “Just doing his job, my ass.”

  Noah laughed out loud. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

  A few minutes later they were passing by the shops and Noah said, “I want to buy you a present. What would you like?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t need a present.”

  “I’m not ridiculous. I missed your last birthday and the one before that and the one—”

  “All right,” she cut in. “You can buy me something but only if you’re going to enjoy it too.”

  He frowned. “I don’t think they have that sort of shop here.”

  She chuckled. “You might be surprised. I know exactly what I want that I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy and they do have it here.”

  Without another word she led him directly into a boutique shoe store and stopped between the Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik displays. In under five seconds his expression morphed from curiosity to awareness to lust to amusement. She waited for his gaze to land on a particularly sexy stiletto-heeled sandal with a network of skinny snakeskin straps and a crystal-studded ankle strap before pointing it out to a very solicitous saleslady.

  For the next hour, Maggie tried on every pair of shoes Noah gave a nod to and paraded up and down the aisle to…see how they felt. He really liked eight pairs.

  And she let him pay for all eight.

  They were on their way back through the lobby with their purchases when another familiar face appeared in front of her.

  “Hello, Ms. Harrison,” Lillian Davenport said with a big smile that once again did not reach her eyes. “I’m glad to see you’re able to take a break from your work.” Her words were light but the sarcasm was barely veiled. She looked at Noah and raised her brows.

  Maggie quickly jumped into her role as assistant. “Miss Davenport, may I present Noah Nash?”

  “How do you do?” he asked warmly, shaking her hand. “I can’t thank you enough for arranging for such a talented assistant for me. She’s already turned out to be invaluable.”

  “Really? How nice. Now, don’t hesitate to ask if there is anything else we can do to make your stay here a memorable one.”

  He grinned. “That’s very kind of you but I believe Ms. Harrison is quite capable of taking care of all my needs.”

  Maggie felt her cheeks flush but there was no way to stop it and Ms. Davenport noticed.

  “Well then, I will leave you both to…your day.” She turned her slightly stiff smile to Maggie. “I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you soon.”

  As soon as the CEO was out of earshot, Noah asked, “What was that all about?”

  Maggie sighed. “Something I was hoping not to have to tell you about. Let’s go upstairs first.”

  He held his questions until they were inside the suite and he put the bags in his bedroom. “I’m all ears.”

  She made him sit down next to her on the sofa then took a deep breath. “First, understand the only reason I didn’t say anything before was because I didn’t want to do anything that might affect your creative flow.”

  “Okay. You were being thoughtful. Got it. Go on.”

  “Second, she threatened me and my friend Cory, who owns the agency I work for.”

  Noah’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. “That bitch threatened you…
and you didn’t think you should tell me about it?”

  She bit her lower lip. “Please don’t be angry.”

  He looked angry anyway. “Just explain.”

  “She told me I had to report to her. Tell her what you were planning to write about. And if it looked like you were going to say anything about her grandfather, I had to give her advance notice so she could stop you.”

  Noah’s expression relaxed. “And that is the direction I was going in. I see. And you didn’t want to warn me because…”

  “If I told you, it could make you go in a different direction just to help me.”

  He mulled it all over. “You’re right. That’s what I would have done. But now I have a surprise for you. I already decided to go a different way with my next book. I may not mention the Davenport at all.”

  Maggie felt as though a weight had been lifted off her back. “Are you ready to talk about it yet?”

  “Well, I can tell you it’s not a horror.”

  She perked up immediately. “I like it already. What else?”

  He laughed. “I’m not saying I’m done writing horror, I’m just going to add a different genre to my bibliography. I was thinking about…a romantic, time-travel suspense.”

  She lunged at him and planted kisses all over his face. “I love it already. And wait until I tell you about Shannon’s life story. I’m sure you can use it somehow. I was absolutely amazed and I even thought about how you should write it someday.”

  He held her face still to get one good kiss. “I take it you’re happy with my decision. Which is good because I’m going to need help from someone really familiar with that type of story.”

  “I’m definitely your girl.”

  His grin broadened. “You certainly are, Sugarlips.”

  She punched his shoulder. “I really hate that name.”

  He caught her fist and kissed her knuckles. “No you don’t.”

  She smiled. “No. I don’t.”

  “Now that we have that settled, let’s see if we got an answer about the rest of Shannon’s life.”

  Another hour passed before the email arrived but it answered quite a few questions. The quantity of information the agency had gathered in an afternoon was mind-boggling, yet they referred to it as preliminary.

  Shannon and Broderick were married in 1927 and had one son and three daughters between 1927 and 1932. Broderick’s early work history was sketchy but during the Depression, when others were suffering, he moved the family to California and ended up having a decent career as a B-grade movie actor using the name Ricky Martin, one name neither Maggie nor Noah had thought to search for.

  The four children grew up, the girls got married and the boy became involved in California politics. They had all passed on by the turn of the century. There were ten grandchildren, eight of whom were still alive and twenty-one great-grandchildren and three great-great-grandchildren currently living in various parts of the country.

  “Wow,” summed up Maggie’s overall impression. “That’s amazing. We didn’t just save Shannon. Thirty-eight more lives took place because she didn’t die in 1927.”

  Noah nodded slowly. “And Broderick’s life definitely changed. Who knows what might have happened had he gone through with marrying Amelia? They could have had a child who turned out to be a demon spawn.”

  “So says the great horror author,” Maggie added with a smile.

  “My point is, our actions may have prevented someone evil from being born.”

  “Possible, but that’s not exactly the sort of thing we could ever verify. Besides, I have a feeling that’s not the case.”

  “A feeling?” Noah grinned with obvious self-satisfaction. “Do tell.”

  “In most of the time-travel stories I’ve read, major historical events can’t be changed without creating a separate timeline. However, the future is changeable. That’s where our actions will make the most difference. Look at the career choices of these three great-grandchildren—one is an environmentalist, one is a medical research scientist and the other is on the political trail. While I was reading the report, their names practically jumped off the page for me. It’s like I know they will be working together to do something hugely important. I realize that sounds crazy—”

  “Whoa. If you’ll recall, I’m the one who insisted you have extrasensory gifts. If you have a feeling, that’s all I need to know. And the coolest part is we’ll be around to see it as it happens.”

  His enthusiasm was so contagious, she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Very cool indeed. And look, there’s even a great-great-grandchild named Shannon. I can’t wait to see what she’ll end up doing with her life. Who would have thought a poor Irish maid and a spoiled idiot could have planted such a strong tree?”

  Noah pulled her close for a long hug. “Have I told you how much I love the way your brain works?”

  She kissed him softly. “I believe that was the first time but I will be sure to remind you if you ever forget.”

  “Even when we’re ninety-four and forget why we sleep in the same bed?”

  A hint of lust twinkled in her eyes. “We may forget a lot of things in our old age, but I’ll bet your next royalty check that why we sleep together won’t be one of them.”

  * * * * *

  The First called the meeting of the Council of Abstracts to order. “I believe the matter of Shannon O’Toole has been properly corrected. Any objections to recording this mission as a success?” When no one spoke The First called on the three Abstracts specifically involved in the case. “Justice?”

  “Satisfied.”

  “Karma?”

  “Satisfied.”

  “Love?”

  “Very satisfied. And thank you, Justice, for getting the fox back in his cage.”

  “You’re welcome. Just be more careful next time.”

  The First recorded the success as confirmed and closed The Book with a dramatic thud. But as they all knew, the closure was only temporary.

  The Crystal Island portal would open again in the future, another choice would be made, another pair selected and another mission initiated.

  Only the ending had not yet been written.

  About the Author

  Marilyn Campbell has been writing fiction novels, nonfiction works and screenplays for nearly twenty years. A true thrill-junkie, she has jumped out of an airplane, raced around the Indy 500 track, driven solo throughout the United States and believes a great roller coaster ride can cure whatever ails her. Happily, she is able to start every day with a morning walk on the beach with her four-legged companion, Sweetie.

  Marilyn welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at Comments@EllorasCave.com.

  Also by Marilyn Campbell

  In and Out of Time

  Primal Beat

  Start Your Engines

  Work It

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