Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (164 page)

Not a good sign.

“
What was the name of that
source who rescinded on you?”

Mitch told him and his boss grimaced.
“What’s wrong?” Mitch asked.

“
He’s dead, and not of old
age. Maybe it really is a suicide – either way, the story just got
bigger.” The managing editor looked Mitch right in the eye, handing
him a piece of paper. Mitch scanned the notes. “We picked it up on
police frequencies – they’re down there right now. Get your ass
down there, take another day, but get the
whole
story.”

Isabel was practically bouncing in her chair
in anticipation as the managing editor walked away. She looked
positively conservative, the funky color rinsed out of her hair,
her floral dress decidedly feminine. “Can I come?”

“
Nope, there won’t be much
there,” Mitch said, pulling out his keys again without even making
it to his desk. Thank goodness he had driven in today.

There might not be much to see, but either
way, he wasn’t going to take Isabel to a crime scene. She really
didn’t need to be exposed to that kind of gritty reality just yet.
“Call that accountant again and hit him hard at lunch. Someone’s
dead and he can save the world, something like that.”

Isabel pouted. “Bill will spout professional
standards again.”

Bill? Well, she
had
laid it on. “Then
let him be an anonymous source. He liked you, Isabel, go get
him.”

Isabel suddenly showed great interest in the
papers on her desk, her change of manner catching Mitch’s
attention. “What?” she demanded when he didn’t leave. “Bill’s kind
of cute.”

“
What about your bike
courier? The one with the legs?”

Isabel waved dismissively. “He was way too
much trouble.”

Mitch shook his head in amazement. “And
you’re done with him” – he snapped his fingers – “just like
that.”

“
Well, yeah. It’s not a
crime to know what you want.”

Mitch marveled that there should be two
people in his life who thought members of the opposite sex were
disposable accessories. He could have argued whether Isabel really
did know what she wanted, but he’d had that argument too many times
with Kurt not to know the ending.

“
Nice choice of dress, by
the way,” he teased instead, guessing the reason for the intern’s
choice.

Isabel turned scarlet, then wadded up a
sheet of computer paper and flung it at Mitch. “So, I was going to
call Bill anyway.”

Mitch ducked and ran.

“
Davison, you be careful
out there!”

Oh, yeah, he was going to be. Mitch had an
awful lot to live for these days.

*

On Wednesday afternoon, Lilith was in her
yard. The sunlight was golden, the butterflies were flitting, the
humidity that had filled the air for all of August was gone. She
could smell the tang of autumn in the air, and already see the
change in the shade of green in every leaf. The nights had become
suddenly cool and sleep was easier.

Everything should have been perfect. But
Lilith edged her beds and weeded the garden, oblivious to the peace
around her. She hadn’t seen Mitch since Sunday and acknowledged
that his absence was disappointing. With that stubborn grandmother
persistently poking her nose into Lilith’s thoughts – and Lilith
shoving her out again – the few weeds in the garden didn’t have a
chance.

Quite suddenly, Lilith heard a scraping. It
wasn’t a sound that belonged in her yard. When she heard a
sniffling, she looked for D’Artagnan, but he was nowhere in
sight.

And neither was anything else. The garden
suddenly seemed to be very still.

Then came the unmistakable sound of
scratching. Something was digging in the dirt.

Something was digging a hole in her
garden!

Lilith turned slowly, looking for the rodent
responsible and determined to take action. Her survey was half
complete when a whole lot of dog wriggled under the fence, bounded
into her yard, and shook several buckets worth of topsoil out of
his fur.

Cooley froze when he spotted Lilith.

She stared back at him, realizing a little
too late the mission she had forgotten.

The wolfhound’s nose and paws were encrusted
with dirt, his gaze locked on Lilith. She suddenly had a very bad
feeling and took a cautious step back. Cooley’s lip curled, and
Lilith saw just how very big his canine teeth were. The hair on the
back of his neck stood up.

He snarled.

Oh, her antidote had worked very well. Maybe
too well.

At this inopportune moment, Lilith
remembered reading somewhere that a wolfhound’s jaw was strong
enough to snap a man’s neck.

The dog growled.

Lilith backed away carefully, trying
desperately to hide her fear but not coming anywhere near to doing
so.

Cooley took a step forward, and Lilith took
one back. The dog hunkered low as though preparing to lunge and
Lilith didn’t care whether he saw her fear or not.

She turned and ran. Cooley barked and
pounced after her, covering the length of the yard more quickly
than she would have believed possible. Lilith made the porch, but
her muddy boots slipped and she grabbed the door handle. Cooley
barked wildly – he sounded like he was going to gobble her right
up.

It seemed his breath was hot on her
heels.

And Lilith was afraid. That was a lot of
dog. She leapt into the house and slammed the inner door just as
the dog made the porch with a bound. Lilith leaned her back against
the door in relief. Her breath came in hasty puffs and her heart
was hammering.

She locked the door, even though she knew it
was dumb. D’Artagnan watched her with cool amusement from his perch
on the dining room table.

Before Lilith could chide the cat, Cooley
landed against the door with a resounding thump. His bark made the
wood vibrate, and the impact of his weight against the door was
enough to bounce Lilith off it. She backed across the room,
half-afraid the dog would come right through the wood. At the
proximity of his nemesis, D’Artagnan disappeared with lightning
speed.

But the inner door was made of sterner stuff
than the storm door had been.

Cooley barked in a frenzy, scratching at the
door as if he would dig his way through it, too. He was snarling
and growling. It was as though he couldn’t stop himself, as though
he couldn’t get the idea of attacking her out of his doggy
mind.

When it became clear that he couldn’t force
his way through the door, Lilith let out a shaking breath. She
pushed up her sleeves, shed her boots, and turned to her cauldron,
determined to see this solved.

And the sooner the better.

*

It wasn’t the most satisfying chase of
Cooley’s life.

His prey, after all, had gotten away.

Cooley barked and scratched at the door, but
made absolutely no progress in getting inside the house. And
eventually, in the notable absence of his quarry, his enthusiasm
waned.

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t make a
point. Cooley stalked away from the house, then gave the garden a
thorough sniff just in case the woman was hiding there somewhere.
He didn’t find her, so he marked everything of any size, staking
the yard out as an extension of his own territory.

Nature called after all his activity and
Cooley hunkered down to make a deposit in the middle of the
garden.

“
Cooley!” the woman called
sweetly before he could really begin.

Cooley’s head shot up. There was a porch
directly over the door where she had disappeared and she was
leaning over the rail.

The temptation was too much.

Cooley ran for the house, barking so that
everyone would know the danger she posed to his family. He couldn’t
get to the balcony, but he lunged against the house and braced his
front paws against the brick. He was so busy barking and snarling
that he didn’t notice her tipping something over the rail.

Until the chilly contents of the pot doused
him from head to tail.

Cooley yelped in shock, he jumped away from
the house. The liquid was icy cold, whatever it was, and smelled
like nothing any respectable dog could stand to smell like. He
shook himself, desperately trying to get rid of that stink,
wondering whether he could find a dead fish somewhere to roll in.
He shivered as cold trickled through to his flesh.

At the touch of the solution on Cooley’s
skin, everything seemed to brighten for just a moment, like a
flashlight was shining directly into his eyes. Then the world faded
abruptly back to its usual look, as though nothing had happened at
all.

But suddenly, the dog wasn’t quite sure what
he was doing in the neighbor’s yard. Cooley just couldn’t remember
anything other than his sense of urgency.

A sense of urgency that now seemed
inexplicable, even to Cooley.

Cooley blinked. He looked at the garden, but
there was no cat in sight. Not one of his people was here and it
seemed there wasn’t a very good reason why he had needed to get
into this yard so badly.

There was only a great big hole under the
fence, and Cooley quite clearly remembered how it had gotten
there.

The wolfhound had a sinking feeling that one
of his people wasn’t going to like the look of that at all.

He skulked across the yard guiltily and
slipped through the hole. He had no sooner begun to roll in the
shorn dandelions of his own yard, in an effort to get that smell
out of his fur, than the garage opened into the alleyway
behind.

Cooley bounded to his feet. The familiar
sound of a car hummed a moment later, doors slammed, a resolute
step echoed inside the garage. Before the door from the garage
opened, Cooley knew exactly who had come home. He sat up straight
and tried to look innocent, the tentative thump of his tail a dead
giveaway that he was anything but.

*

It was Wednesday night and real life was
calling. Mitch’s feature was safely in production, after that mad
last minute rush that had brought everything into question. Isabel
had done a great job worming the lead they needed - albeit
anonymously - out of the accountant. They hadn’t been able to link
the suicide and the scam with definite proof, but Mitch had found a
Mountie he knew and trusted at the scene Tuesday morning.

Clearly, Mitch wasn’t the only one who
smelled things in the wind - the federal officer was awfully senior
to be taking an interest. This morning, Mitch had faxed his notes
to the Mountie, knowing dots would be connected and justice would
be done.

And his article would be on the front of
tomorrow’s morning edition. He’d put Isabel’s name on the byline
without telling her and smiled in anticipation of her response. It
would be her first, and she deserved it.

In a way, he enjoyed when things really hit
the fan. He enjoyed the adrenalin rush of having to find another
solution while the clock was ticking. But now it was done and gone
- another story put to bed - and Mitch could relax.

And right now, he had a whole hour before it
was time to pick up the kids. Mitch shoved work out of his mind on
the drive home, reminding himself that he had a much more
interesting investigation to continue - the one to which his
intriguing neighbor held the key.

He rolled down his window and didn’t concern
himself too much with the snarl of traffic. The sunshine was
wonderful, the heat of it on his arm making him feel as though he’d
spent too much time inside this week.

And not had nearly enough sleep.

Mitch cut through the university,
circumnavigating the moving vans. In the next week, the campus
would be crowded with first-time students moving in to the dorms,
jaded undergrads moved into the apartments and sub-divided houses
all around the university. In a week, it would be Labour Day
weekend; in a week, Mitch would be in Kansas City; in a week,
Andrea would be cruising the Caribbean.

In fact, she’d been delighted when he called
this afternoon, declaring that she was going to rush right out and
finish shopping for her cruise.

The thought of his stepmother led Mitch’s
thinking back to Lilith as surely as if he followed a line of bread
crumbs home. He thought about the typed summary he had compiled,
safely tucked into his briefcase, and decided it was time he went
for broke in one corner of his life.

It was unbelievably reassuring that Lilith
wasn’t trying to hoodwink anyone. It left Mitch free to enjoy her
company, instead of trying to unearth her subterfuge. It left Mitch
free to make Lilith laugh, to talk to her, to help her fix whatever
had gone so sadly wrong.

It let Mitch do his next best thing after
investigative reporting. He could fix anything and he was going to
fix this.

After all, you never knew what would be
lurking around the next corner, never knew what kind of trouble
would blindside you unexpectedly. If nothing else, this week had
reminded Mitch that things couldn’t be taken for granted, that
anything could change in the blink of an eye.

You had to take chances, risk going after
what you really wanted or maybe lose the chance of never having it
at all.

Lilith had awakened something in Mitch that
he had put aside a long time ago; she had dredged up all those
romantic notions of a good life and a good partnership that he was
certain had nothing to do with him. Mitch didn’t whether he could
have those dreams, whether he deserved them, whether he had earned
them.

He was going to stretch out and reach for
them.

And the first step on that path was seeing
Lilith’s trauma healed.

In the afternoon sunlight, Mitch decided
that he was going to ask Lilith for the whole story of her
immortality. It would only be then, when she voiced what had to be
an illogical story, that he would be able to persuade her of the
fallacy of her memories. She had a sharp mind, after all, and he
knew she would see the flaw in her thinking.