September Sky (American Journey Book 1) (50 page)

Though Chuck could see from the available afternoon light that the brick-lined passage was about fifteen feet long, eight feet high, and five feet wide, he could also see that it wasn't illuminated. No strip of glowing white and blue stones hung overhead.

Chuck looked at the blue crystal in his hand and noticed that it, too, had remained in a dark and apparently dormant state. It wasn't in sync with anything.

"This all looks a bit different, folks, so bear with me," Chuck said.

Chuck entered the tunnel, brushed away a cobweb, and proceeded to the keyless interior door that led to the basement. He found the door locked. He turned around and exited the chamber.

"The inside door is locked," Chuck said. "It looks like we may have to spend a little quality time in a cold, dark cell."

Wyatt grinned.

"That sounds like home."

Chuck smiled and shook his head.

"I'll bet it does."

Chuck sighed.

"Let's all go inside. Shut the door behind you, Wyatt."

Chuck grabbed Charlotte's hand and led her through the tunnel to the interior door. He tried the knob once again and found it as immovable as ever.

Wyatt followed Justin into the chamber a few seconds later. He placed the suitcases on the floor, reached for the exterior door, and pulled it shut.

Chuck waited for the overhead lights to pierce the total darkness. When they didn't, he lifted the crystal toward the ceiling. When that didn't achieve the desired effect, he began to sweat.

"Check the door, Wyatt."

Wyatt reached around in the dark until he found the knob.

"It's locked."

Charlotte gasped.

Chuck felt his stomach twist when he remembered something Professor Bell had said.

"The power within the blue crystal will eventually expire. I can't tell you when. I can tell you only that I have never been able activate the chamber using the blue crystal alone after 153 days."

"Try the door again," Chuck said.

Wyatt did.

"It's still locked."

Chuck feared the worst. He kicked himself for losing the white crystal and then not doing more to find it. He wondered what Goldie had done with it, but he didn't wonder long. When you were trapped in a small, dark space, you had other things to think about.

"Let me try, Dad," Justin said. "Give me the rock."

"All right."

Chuck started toward the other end of the tunnel. He tripped a couple of times as he moved blindly through the chamber but finally found his son, who had not moved far from the door. He gave Justin the blue crystal, stepped back, and waited for something to happen.

Something did. Before Chuck could say, "There's more to this than meets the eye," the tunnel started to change. A single crystal, embedded in the limestone ceiling, flickered and then lit up like a reading light in the cabin of an aircraft. A second one did the same, followed by a third and a fourth. By the time Chuck returned his attention to Charlotte, the room was lightly illuminated.

"It looks like the crystal wanted its owner," Chuck said.

Justin smiled softly.

"It looks like it did," Justin said.

Chuck walked back to Charlotte, who appeared visibly relieved, and gave her a gentle hug. He then took a deep breath, turned the knob on the interior door, and pushed the door open.

"Let me check this out first," Chuck said to the others.

Chuck entered the basement and looked around. He saw white walls, white carpet, and white sofas but no people. He motioned for Charlotte, Justin, and Wyatt to join him.

"This place is empty," Justin said a moment later. "I wonder if anyone's home."

Chuck approached a small table that sat between two facing couches in the center of the room. When he got there, he placed his hand on a teacup that sat on the table.

"Someone's home, all right," Chuck said. "The tea's still warm."

"It's fresh too," Professor Geoffrey Bell said as he entered the room. "I could have Jeanette make some more, if you'd like."

"I'd like that," Chuck said.

Bell offered a hand when he reached the table. He did not offer a smile.

Chuck shook the hand and sighed.

"Welcome back, Mr. Townsend," Bell said. "I've been expecting you."

The professor looked at the other three travelers.

"I've been expecting all of you."

CHAPTER 88: CHUCK

Friday, September 16, 2016

The professor didn't try to hide his disappointment. Even after Jeanette Bell served tea to the visitors, who sat on one sofa, and her husband, who sat on the other, he didn't smile. He didn't say or do anything that might suggest he was happy to see four time travelers in his basement instead of two.

"I see you brought back more than a postcard," Bell said. "I know it's been a while since I last spoke to you, but I'm certain I instructed you
not
to bring back any two-legged souvenirs."

"You did," Chuck said.

"Then why did you violate my specific instructions?"

Chuck knew immediately that he had a choice to make. He could let Bell push him around or he could defend his actions. He decided to go on offense.

"You asked me to have an adventure," Chuck said. "I did. I had the adventure of a lifetime. In the process, I fell in love and married a wonderful woman."

"I see that," Bell said. He looked at Charlotte. "Welcome to 2016, Mrs. Townsend."

"Thank you," Charlotte said.

She gave Chuck a what's-this-all-about look.

"Forgive me if I seem rude, madam," Bell said to Charlotte. "I'm actually quite pleasant most of the time. I'm not pleasant, however, to people who fail to honor agreements."

"Let it go, professor," Chuck said.

"I wish I could," Bell said. "If you had done nothing more than marry a wonderful woman, I could understand. I know what it's like to marry a wonderful woman."

The professor gazed admiringly at his wife.

"So what's the problem?" Chuck asked.

"The problem, sir, is that you did more than pick up a spouse in 1900," Bell said. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a tri-folded sheet, and opened it. "According to this report, given to me today, you repeatedly meddled in the lives of several residents of Galveston, Texas, and altered the outcome of a criminal investigation."

Bell glanced at Wyatt.

"How's it feel to be a free man, Mr. Fitzpatrick?"

Wyatt smiled.

"It feels glorious."

"I'll bet it does."

"Who gave you that report?" Chuck asked.

"I thought you'd never ask," Bell said.

The professor got up from the sofa and turned toward a stairway that led to the main floor.

"You can come down now, Tom."

Chuck looked at the far side of the room and saw someone walk down the stairs. He knew even before he saw the man's face that he was the person who had followed him for months. He stared at the man as he walked across the room and approached the sofas.

"Say hello to Thomas Mack," Bell said. "Mr. Mack, as I'm sure all of you know, is a private investigator in Galveston. He prepared the report that's in my hands."

Bell pointed to the empty seat on his sofa.

"Please take a seat, Tom."

Mack did as requested.

"You
hired
this guy?" Chuck asked.

"I did," Bell said. "I went back to 1900 the day after you left, mailed him relevant photos and information, and asked him to keep an eye on you during your stay in Texas. I asked him to send weekly reports to a mailbox in Los Angeles. We've been corresponding for months."

The professor returned to his seat.

"How did you know we went to Galveston instead of Chicago?" Chuck asked.

"You left a clue in the back of your car," Bell said. He pulled a copy of a news article from his pocket and handed it to Chuck. "People who plan to travel to Chicago tend to read about Chicago – not Galveston. I suspected that you were going to try to save thousands of lives by warning people about the hurricane there."

"Would that have been so awful?"

"Yes. It might have been."

"How is that?" Chuck asked.

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" Bell asked.

"Yes."

"Then I'll spell it out. You and your son went to 1900 as guests of that time, Mr. Townsend. You had an obligation to leave things as you found them. By saving even a fair number of lives, you would have changed the fates of many. You could have, in fact, changed history itself."

"I didn't though."

"No. It appears that you didn't. You brought back a widow who never remarried the first time around and a businessman who died on the gallows before starting a family line."

Chuck looked at the professor closely and noticed that his demeanor had softened a bit. He guessed that now that Bell had thrown his tantrum, he was prepared to move on.

When Chuck glanced at Wyatt, however, he saw a man who
was
spoiling for a fight – not with the professor but rather with Thomas Mack. Wyatt glared at Mack with hot eyes.

"You appear to be troubled by something, Mr. Fitzpatrick," Bell said. "What is it?"

Wyatt glanced at Bell.

"It's nothing really. I'd just like to know if Mr. Mack here had a role in the murder of my fiancée."

Wyatt returned to Mack.

"Did you, Thomas?"

"I did not," Mack said.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want. I had no part in killing Rose."

"You worked for my brother," Wyatt said.

"He hired me to gather information on many people," Mack said. "When I suspected that he might someday use that information to harm others, I left his employment."

"I see."

"If it makes a difference, I'll help you find Silas as soon as I return to 1900. I understand that hindsight is useful in bringing about justice."

"Your help won't be necessary," Wyatt said.

"Why is that?" Mack asked.

"I put a bullet in my brother's skull a few days ago."

"So I have a fugitive on my hands, after all," Bell said.

"I shot Silas to save Charlotte's life," Wyatt said. "If you don't believe me, you can ask three witnesses sitting on this sofa."

The professor rose to his feet.

"I'll do that," Bell said. "I'll do that when we meet again on Sunday."

"Why not now?" Chuck asked.

"I want a chance to reflect on what I've learned today. That's why," Bell said. "I also want the opportunity to read the journal I asked you to keep. You did keep a journal, did you not?"

"I did. It's in one of the suitcases."

"Then leave it before you go."

"Go where? We don't have a home here."

"You do this weekend," Bell said. "I have arranged for the four of you to spend the next two nights at the Regency Hotel. Please go now, relax, enjoy yourselves, and be prepared to answer more questions on Sunday afternoon."

"Thank you, Professor."

"It's my pleasure."

CHAPTER 89: JUSTIN

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Justin read the names slowly, carefully, and repeatedly. He read the names of the dead, the missing, the living, and people who appeared on more than one list.

Not once in three hours of searching an online microfilm database, however, did he read the name of Emily Beck. She had, for all practical purposes, ceased to exist.

Justin knew it was pointless to keep searching. Emily had either died in the hurricane or died at a later date. She was most certainly not roaming the Earth at age 136.

Even so, Justin hated not knowing. He hated not knowing when she died, how she died, and whether his name was on her lips at the end. He would obsess about the questions until he had the answers, even if it took him the rest of his life to find them.

Justin had thought of little else since leaving Galveston. Though he was glad to be back in his time and delighted to again have a mother in his life, he wasn't happy. He had tasted real love for the first time and lost it in the blink of an eye. At age twenty-one, he was sad, angry, and directionless.

He glanced at his father and Charlotte, who played cards at a table in the hotel suite, and then at Wyatt, who fiddled with the remote and watched the "amazing contraption" called television. He envied their ability to move on so quickly and effortlessly after so much tragedy.

Justin returned to his laptop and scrolled through more lists and stories. He figured that he might as well read as many as he could. He would soon have to move on to other things and set new priorities in the place his father liked to call the here and now.

When he reached the front page of the Galveston paper for September 13, 1900, he noticed that the missing list had been revised yet again. New names had been added and old names withdrawn. He wondered who had kept the grim tally and how they had done it.

Then he looked at a small news article near the bottom of the page and froze in his chair. Four paragraphs had left him breathless:

WOMAN PULLED FROM WATER IDENTIFIED

HOUSTON, September 12 – Officials have identified a woman pulled alive from storm waters Saturday night as Emily Louise Beck of Galveston.

William Clemens and Calvin Masterson, local fishermen, rescued Miss Beck, 20, during the height of the hurricane as they tried to navigate a twenty-foot boat to safety. The men sought medical assistance when their vessel reached the mainland Sunday morning.

Miss Beck, daughter of Beck Atlantic chairman Maximilian Beck, was admitted to St. Ignatius Hospital in Houston, where she remained in a comatose condition until Wednesday evening. She is expected to make a full recovery.

Mr. Beck and his wife, Isabella, longtime residents of Galveston, perished in the storm. The whereabouts of their youngest daughter, Anna, 8, is not known.

"She's alive," Justin said.

"Who's alive?" Chuck asked.