Centenary Separation, page 12
Turning around again, she forced herself to sit down in one of the plush armchairs lined up against the wall. And had nothing to do other than watch to see when Mr. Hollingsworth’s client left, or observe Ms. Cooper, who had already gone back to her work. She and the lawyer would make a good match. Anya wondered why he’d never married—which was none of her business, only her mind trying to distract her from other thoughts. Less pleasant ones.
If she hadn’t gone back to try to save the professor, would he have died? Now that she’d had some experience traveling through time, she realized that the professor’s disorientation right before the accident was not a natural reaction for a seasoned Traveler like John. It had been her dual appearance that must have confused him.
She also had to acknowledge that if she had not gone back in time, trying to change things, that sinister watchbearer wouldn’t have had anyone to lead him to the spot. Maybe some other driver would’ve hit the professor, even if he hadn’t been disoriented by Anya’s actions, but she’d never know.
She forced herself to confront her own timidity. Alright, trying to save the professor had been a mistake—but one she may have needed to make. It certainly had given her an opportunity—to take care of several things which she hadn’t known needed to be dealt with, or hadn’t imagined she would ever have the chance to address.
One of those issues was the question of the person who’d hit and killed the professor. At the time she’d just assumed it to be an accident, and that the authorities would take care of everything. And then the police had tried to pin his death on her—an allegation she now knew had more behind it than those detectives could’ve known. And somehow in all that mess, no one had ever been brought to account. Until now. She had discovered the truth and inadvertently delivered some justice.
Then also, Anya believed she’d discovered what had happened to Kirin’s missing watch—she’d been given a chance to retrieve the advanced future technology from someone who certainly shouldn’t have been in possession of it. And blew it.
Throughout it all, Anya had been a coward. She had balked at throwing herself into traffic to try to save the professor like she’d planned. She’d chased that hit-and-run driver, but only until she’d realized he was a danger to her. And then, instead of trying to find some way to deal with him and get the watch back, she’d just run away. When she was supposed to be a leader.
Get a grip on yourself. She was a leader, so she needed to start acting like one. One of their Travel devices needed to be retrieved, and Anya would just have to find a way to get it back.
Ms. Cooper calling her name brought Anya out of her self-examination. “Mr. Hollingsworth is free for a few minutes now. Just go right on back. You know the way.”
Anya stood and smoothed her skirt. She smiled at the secretary and straightened her spine. Marching over to the door beyond Ms. Cooper’s desk, Anya turned the knob and walked down the short corridor to the lawyer’s spacious corner office.
His door stood open, and he’d risen to stand behind his desk. He nodded and smiled in his genteel way. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Walker, even if you’ve gotten yourself into some more trouble.”
Anya stepped in and then stopped, as always, to appreciate the breathtaking view of the city out the wall of windows that took up one side of the office. “I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment or not, Mr. Hollingsworth.”
He combed his finger down his salt-and-pepper mustache and grinned. “You should take it as one—but maybe it’s one of your colleagues who’s in trouble this time?”
She smiled as she sat down in one of the leather chairs facing his desk. Waiting until he’d sat down himself, Anya shook her head. “It’s me. At least I’m the one who needs your help, but it’s not really trouble. Just a rather thorny problem.”
“As long as you remember my advice to not tell me more than I ought to know.”
“Of course.” He’d told Anya she shouldn’t ever lie to him, but that sometimes there were things he was better off not knowing. “And you’ll let me know what it is you need from me.”
“Alright, then. What’s this problem, and how is it you think I can help?”
“If you haven’t heard already, you will soon—a man died not long ago in the lobby of this building. When I was down there, I heard the police had been called and were on their way.”
“I hadn’t heard. And the police have surely arrived by now. Are they your problem?”
Anya shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not directly. But the dead man had something in his possession that did not belong to him, and I need to get it. I doubt the police will just give it to me.”
Mr. Hollingsworth nodded. “I see. Well, if it’s become a police investigation, I’m afraid that they’ll insist on holding onto it as evidence. How long that might be will depend on if and when they determine it isn’t relevant to any potential prosecution. What’s this property you need to retrieve?”
“It’s a watch. A special kind of watch that looks like mine.” He should remember that well enough.
“If this man is another Travelers’ Trust recipient, that will help. Since I represent the trust I can make official inquiries.”
Anya shook her head. “He’s not, and the watch isn’t as special as mine. It can’t generate the access codes for the bank.” Or do other special things. “I can’t leave it in the wrong hands though.”
The lawyer leaned back in his chair. “If the man is dead, surely that’s not a problem anymore. Or do you think the authorities are the wrong hands?”
“I don’t know. They might give it to anyone, so I need to make sure it gets into the right hands.”
“Alright. If and when the police determine that this watch isn’t relevant to their investigation of this man’s death, it could be claimed by his next of kin. I don’t suppose that’s you?”
If Mr. Hollingsworth meant that she might represent herself inaccurately as this man’s family, he’d be disappointed. “I don’t even know who he is. Not even his name.”
The lawyer looked at her without blinking for a few long moments. “That will make it difficult. But I suppose I can make some inquiries to discover his identity and locate his family and see what might be arranged with them.”
Anya took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have the resources to pay whatever they ask for, as I am sure you’re aware. But since it doesn’t belong to him, there shouldn’t be any question of sentimental attachment.” She looked her lawyer straight in the eye. “I’ll pay what anyone wants, and since it’s not his property, I won’t feel any qualms. Whatever you have to do to get it back for me.”
He grinned. “I do like to have a free hand, Miss Walker. But I won’t do anything illegal. You understand?”
“I wouldn’t want you to break the law, Mr. Hollingsworth. But I know you know your way around the law, and if there’s a way, you’ll find it.”
“How can I possibly disappoint such confidence in my abilities? I’ll do my best. Now let’s see what I can do about your other problem.”
Anya blinked. “What other problem?”
“You said you were down in the lobby with this man’s body. There are surveillance cameras covering the whole floor, so the police will at least want to talk to you. Can you tell them anything about how he died?” He gave her a meaningful look.
Anya marked the precise words he had used. “I can’t tell them that, no.” Now she needed to choose her own words carefully. “I wasn’t anywhere nearby when he died. By the time I’d gotten off the elevator into the lobby, the security guards had cordoned off the body and sealed the exits.”
Hollingsworth nodded. “The surveillance video is time-stamped, so they will be able to see that for themselves. But they’ll be looking through the video to follow every movement the dead man made, from the minute he first entered the building. They’ll try to track his movements before that even. Will they see you having any interaction with him?”
Anya found herself blushing as she recalled how she’d run through the lobby with that man chasing her, but that was three years in the past—she didn’t think anyone would still remember that. “No, they won’t. But I’m afraid they won’t see the man entering the building at all.” Or Anya herself coming in, not unless they kept the video for three years, which she doubted, and went to the trouble of looking that far back.
Thinking about the investigation from that perspective made Anya wonder what they would see on that video. Will they see him appear out of thin air? And then fly upward for no apparent reason? Anya shook her head. “I think the authorities are going to have a real mystery on their hands, figuring out how he died and where he came from.”
Mr. Hollingsworth opened his mouth, and Anya could tell he wanted to ask her what she knew about it, and how the man had died. But he thought better of it, and shook his head instead. “If that’s the case, they’ll likely end up contacting everyone who might have any information—including you. I’m sure they will be collecting the names and addresses of everyone who was in the building around the time of this man’s death. Are you going back to your place up in Chickadee?”
“No, I’ll be staying at my rooms at the Ngaio until you can get the watch.”
“Good. Because if and when they get around to questioning you, or asking you to make any kind of statement, I want to be there. Do you understand?”
Anya smiled. “Of course. But since I have nothing to say, that shouldn’t be a problem. My problem is that watch. And I do hope you can find a way to get it.”
He fingered his mustache again, trying to hide a grin. “Since the police were never able to keep their hands on either of your watches in that other investigation, I can’t see how they’d connect you up with this dead man’s watch.”
Anya shook her head. “No, it seems impossible that they should. But I want that watch before they start taking a close look at it.” And start getting any ideas.
“Regardless, I’m going to keep close tabs on this investigation.” He stood with a sigh. “You do make my life interesting.” He walked around his desk and gestured for her to precede him out of his office. “I think I’d better walk you out of the building. I don’t imagine there will be any difficulties, but if I’m with you I know there won’t be.”
All well and good, Anya thought. But although he’d do his best to get ahold of that watch for her, it might not be enough. She’d leave her lawyer to keep her out of trouble with the authorities, while she did what she could to retrieve that watch, or try to, herself. At least she no longer had to worry about that very dangerous-looking man and what he might do with the watch. But Anya had a responsibility to get it back. There had to be something she could do.
Chapter 13
Anticipating Events
September 16th, 2012 Burnt Ash, Virginia
VERITY drove her Mercedes into the country club parking lot, turning into one of the vacant spots because secretaries didn’t avail themselves of the valet service. Generally they did not come here to pester their employers either, but she needed a way to see Hollingsworth away from his home-office, and that meant playing the part of the man’s executive secretary. At least she only had to be herself for this role —if any real acting were required, she’d be in trouble.
Stepping out of the car, she smoothed her dress and realized how much she appreciated being back in a conservative skirt suit—what had basically been her work uniform for several years. It had only been a few weeks that she’d gone without proper attire—but between quitting her job, marrying Turner, and then chauffeuring Karat around, it felt like forever. The quality wasn’t what she was used to, but after a week with Karat, she was running low on funds.
Taking a pregnant woman down to Virginia had slowed her down and tapped her out. Though carting Karat to Hollingsworth, to hand her problems to him—that had been the whole point of the trip. So Verity couldn’t very well complain.
She’d discovered where Hollingsworth had disappeared to without much difficulty. It had merely meant returning to her old workplace to face her old boss—Mr. Hemmings was still the branch manager and as disapproving of secretaries who would abandon their posts for marriage as he’d been when she had quit. He’d quite relished being unable to share with her any information he had about recent activities on the part of Travelers’ Trust recipients. She didn’t work there anymore, and it was confidential. Fortunately he hadn’t been able to think of a reason why he couldn’t tell her about Hollingsworth.
The lawyer had retired his Manhattan practice, then moved back to his Virginia hometown. But the man had been unable to give up the law completely. Now he was a one-man operation working out of his home, with only his wife for a secretary.
Hopefully the club personnel didn’t know that—or would assume he’d hired Verity recently. If they challenged her, she’d prepared for that as far as she could, but if she had to appeal to Hollingsworth, she just hoped he would remember her name. After all, for him it had been ten years since he had attended her wedding.
The lawyer supposedly only took cases anymore if they interested him, but Verity believed Karat and her predicament would hook him once he heard. It might be enough to mention the woman’s husband’s name, if he and Hollingsworth had been old friends as Karat thought. But Verity had to get a chance to talk to the man first.
She herself remained skeptical—not so much of Karat’s belief that the lawyer would help her out for the sake of her husband, as this idea that somebody was spying on the woman. Still, Verity had taken a circuitous route from New York City to Burnt Ash—they’d also stayed at cheap motels where they could pay cash and use fake names. It was best to be safe. For that same reason she’d scotched the idea of approaching Hollingsworth at his home. She couldn’t risk leading any danger to the man’s door. She also didn’t want to take the chance that she wouldn’t get past that door to make her case.
Upon arriving in Burnt Ash, she had visited the library and gone through back editions of the paper, which was how she’d found out Hollingsworth regularly spent time at this club. And she’d decided this would be her best chance to talk to the man without attracting undue attention.
Striding across the blacktop and marching up to the clubhouse entrance, Verity held her slim leather folder confidently in the crook of her arm. The portfolio had cost a pretty penny, but if this didn’t work she and Karat would soon be eating at a soup kitchen. And it was an important part of the role she was playing. Verity might not know how to play-act, but she did know how to be a convincing secretary.
Still, she expected to be challenged by the doorman, and she was. “Excuse me, miss, but I don’t believe you’re a member.”
Keeping her face blank, Verity gestured slightly with her leather folder. “No, I’m not. I’m Mr. Hollingsworth’s confidential secretary.”
The man looked her up and down. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to be disturbed. Not here.”
She refrained from smiling. “No, I’m quite sure he doesn’t. But I require his signature on some documents. And it’s urgent—otherwise I wouldn’t disturb him for the world.”
He nodded at her, but he wasn’t happy about it. “Mr. Hollingsworth is in the dining room on the second floor.” He opened the door, then ignored her as she glided through.
Verity ascended the stairs and found the dining room easily enough. Thankfully it was mostly empty. Hollingsworth was eating alone at a table by the window, absorbed in finishing off a slice of pie, and she took her time crossing the room to make sure he had plenty of opportunity to notice her.
Reaching his table, she unfastened her portfolio and flipped a couple of sheets over to expose the explanation of Karat and her situation she’d typed up for him. “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch, sir. But you said you wanted to approve these contracts the minute I had them ready.”
Hollingsworth spared a shrewd look for her before focusing on the summary. He skimmed it, then nodded at her. “I see.” He reached out and flipped the cover pages back over and, taking a pen she held out for him, scratched an illegible scrawl across the bottom of the page.
Although the summary had included the suspicion of Karat’s that someone might be watching her, he didn’t as much as glance around. He just continued to act completely normal, as he had when she’d first approached him. She was impressed.
He gave her a brief smile. “And what would you have done if someone had insisted on seeing the papers you were bringing me?”
“Sir! I’m your confidential secretary. I’d guard those papers with my life.”
He grinned wide. “And I’d expect no less.” The lawyer combed his salt-and-pepper moustache with his finger. “Now, it’ll take me another ten minutes or so to finish my dessert. I’m sure you understand why I’m not inviting you to join me.”
Verity nodded. Ten minutes to finish his meal, then the time it would take for the valet to bring his car around. He wanted her to wait for him. She had given him the motel and room number where Karat and she were staying, because he certainly wouldn’t want to be seen leaving with her. And he wasn’t asking her to follow him, so she presumed he wanted to follow her —to watch for a potential tail?
“Of course, sir. I’ll be on my way, then. After I go powder my nose.”
No one was close enough to be listening, so they were probably both being far too careful, but it was better that way in her opinion. He seemed to think so too, so she wouldn’t worry about his being insufficiently circumspect.
Turning on her heel, Verity marched out of the dining room with a casual glance at her watch—and without looking at anybody else. She continued, out of the clubhouse and across the parking lot. She slid into her Mercedes with a sigh, starting the engine so she could turn the air-conditioning on full-blast and wait for Hollingsworth. Now that it was all over her heart had started racing.
She used the occasion of looking in the rearview mirror and adjusting her makeup to watch for Hollingsworth. When she saw him leaving the club and a valet easing the man’s car up to the curb in front of him, Verity pulled out of the parking space and maneuvered the car slowly toward the exit.
