Timepiece

“We’re interested in the truth,” I said.

“Are you?” He dropped the match into an ashtray shaped like a turtle. Obviously crafted by little hands, it seemed out of place on his monstrous desk.

“That’s all we want. We thought … we hoped we could get it from you. Will you tell us?” I asked. “The truth about Chronos?”

“That’s a little tricky,” he said, puffing once more, “because the truth is mixed in with the legend.”

I frowned. Waited.

“Chronos’s biggest desire is to be part of something that’s as ancient as time itself.” He stared at the pipe until the fire went out. “And I find it hard to believe that Liam Ballard’s son is questioning me about that something, when his father knows far more about it than I do.”

My jaw dropped. “How did you know who—”

“You have your father’s build. You even have his way of listening, taking things in without giving anything away.” He struck another match and relit the tobacco. “And then, of course, your mother’s famous blue eyes.”

The last observation sideswiped me. Em must have sensed it, because she took control of the conversation again.

“You said Chronos wanted to be part of something as ‘ancient as time itself.’ What does that mean?”

Dr. Turner took a long draw on his pipe.

“Please tell us?” Em leaned forward, placing her hands on the edge of his desk.

“Again, these are answers you should be getting from Liam.” Dr. Turner exhaled, filling the air with the aromatic scent of vanilla.

“You say that like it’s simple.” I laughed derisively. “He doesn’t tell me anything. I don’t even know what questions to ask.”

“Then I most certainly have to respect Liam’s choices, as he’s your father.” He almost sounded regretful. “But I can say that when Teague left Bennett University, the … scope … of her interests narrowed.”

“What did she focus on?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you any more about Teague.” He turned a very direct gaze on me. “Except … no man—or woman—is an island.”

“Okay.” Em looked from Dr. Turner to me and back again. Frowning, she took her hands off Dr. Turner’s desk and leaned back into her chair. “If you won’t tell us about Teague, can you tell us about Jack Landers?”

“Doesn’t he work with Liam at Cameron? Or did that change last year after the … accident?” He was feigning innocence. I’d have known by his wide-eyed expression even if I hadn’t been able to feel it.

“It changed.” Our cover to explain Dad’s “death” was that he’d survived the explosion, but with a head injury that caused amnesia. We didn’t have a solid cover for Jack. “So have you seen him? Jack?”

“Is he no longer employed at Cameron?” Dr. Turner ignored my question as well and took another deep puff on his pipe.

Stalemate. “Maybe you should ask my father.”

“Touché.” He raised one eyebrow. “Of course, if I did ask your father, I’d have to let him know you’d been to visit. Asked lots of questions.”

“Fine.” The old man played a serious game of hardball. He knew my questions had crossed a line. “No. Jack is no longer employed at Cameron. Or by my father.”

“I see.” He lowered his pipe to the turtle ashtray. “No. I haven’t seen him lately.”

All we’d managed to establish is that neither of us knew where Jack was, but Dr. Turner was feeling satisfied. I was left feeling I’d given something away and not gotten anything in return.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t offer you more information.” Dr. Turner stood and picked up a briefcase from beside his desk.

“Wait!” Emerson jumped to her feet. “That’s it? That’s all?”

“I don’t have anything else to tell you, and I have a lecture to give. But …” He stared at me for a long moment. “Are you doing any sightseeing while you’re here?”

“Sightseeing?” I asked.

“I suggest it. You go to London, you visit Buckingham Palace. You go to Egypt, you visit the pyramids.” He looked at us pointedly.

“We’ll take that under consideration,” Em said.

“I hope you do.”

We left, and I followed Emerson around the corner out of earshot of the office.

“Do you think he really has a lecture?” she whispered.

“I think we got a little too specific with our questions.” We walked down the stairs and toward the parking lot.

“Why was he saying those things about sightseeing and staring at us like that?”

“I don’t know, but it was weird.”

“He knew about Teague. I wish we’d asked him about Poe,” she said. The wind blew her hair in her face, and she reached up to twist it around her hand. “I wonder if his name would’ve gotten a reaction.”

“I’m kind of glad we didn’t. We gave a lot more than we got.”

“I keep expecting to see Jack.” She let go of her hair and wrapped her arms around herself. “I wonder if there’s safety in numbers, or if he can steal memories from two people at the same time.”

“I’ll keep you safe, Shorty.” I put my arm over Em’s shoulders and pulled her to my side for a quick squeeze. “We’ll find him.”

“Damn, I hope so.” She growled under her breath. “I just realized I haven’t had coffee in two hours.”

“Oh no. We’d better do something about that real quick. I’d hate for you to get irritable.”

Her response was an elbow to the stomach.

Michael and Lily came into view. They were both sitting on the bumper of the SUV, and they looked miserable.

“Oh no,” Em said.

Fear. Dread. Defeat.

“Hurry.” I walked faster. Since my legs were so much longer, Em ran to keep up.

“What’s going on?” Em asked. Lily stood up, and I could tell she’d been crying.

“We got into the records. No details about Jack,” Michael said, sounding defeated. “Everything was gone.”

“That’s not so bad,” Em said, giving Lily a quick hug. “It’s what we expected, right? We have the high school stuff to work from, and Lily can look for the pocket watch.”

“Lack of details isn’t the only problem.” When Lily’s voice hitched, I realized just how close she was to crying again. She brushed away the forming tears.

Michael explained. “When we got back, we tried to find the pocket watch on the map. We’ve been trying for twenty minutes.”

Lily dropped her hands. “It’s gone.”

Chapter 21

I held open the elevator of the Peabody Hotel for Lily. We were on a mission that originated from offering to brew Emerson coffee with the maker in the hotel room. She’d thrown a shoe at us.

“I’m sorry.” Lily’s guilt filled the space around us.

“Stop.”

She leaned back against the elevator wall and met my eyes in the mirrored doors as they closed.