Highland Shifter (MacCoinnich Time Travel) (27 page)

I found the stone hidden in a half-empty box of tampons. Fucking bitch thinks I
’m stupid. Thought a man wouldn’t go there. Thought I’d never look in that box. I’m not stupid. I know she uses it to see him. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll find out. One way or another, I’ll find out.

Philip turned the page.

Came home from the club and found the bathroom in ruins. Claire was hysterical. She accused me of ruining her life. Me, the one who stood by her all these years—the one who raised her bastards as if they were mine. It’s me she should love, not him. She’ll never see him again. She’ll learn to love me or die a bitter old woman.

The next few pages voiced the same sentiment. Philip
’s parents fought, and his mom fell into a depression—something Dennis Lyons hadn’t seen coming. As much as Dennis loathed his wife’s transgressions, he loved the woman...and hated himself for it.

She
’s back in the hospital. This time she locked herself in the car and let it run with the garage door down. The doctors say she’ll make it, but they want to take her to one of those crazy houses. I heard her mumble something about the stone while she was sedated. They gave her something to calm her down.

I
’ve tried to make the fucking thing work. It won’t. While she slept I put it in her hand, and the thing lit up like a goddamn star. I had to wrestle it out of her palm. When she woke she stared at me as if she knew.

I could kill the bastard who did this to her—who took her from me. I
’ll make this damn thing work if only to wring his fucking neck.

The pages after that were blank. Philip knew where the story ended. His mom successfully ended her own life by driving off a cliff. His dad, well, his step-dad anyway, ended up dying a bitter old man. Philip and Malcolm were ugly reminders of Dennis
’s wasted life. All of this happened before Philip’s fifth birthday.

Malcolm remembered their mom, but Philip recalled nearly nothing. He remembered yelling and hospitals, and then the funeral. After that, a series of babysitters raised him and his brother. Mal manipulated every last one, much like his teachers. If he didn
’t approve, they didn’t stay.

When Dennis died, Philip found the journal and a bag holding the stone. It was a rock, nothing more. Except the very same rock, or one exactly like it, sat around Helen
’s neck in the form of a necklace. The rock Dennis left him sat in a jail cell with Malcolm.

And now Helen had disappeared, just like his mother had from time to time before Dennis took the stone away.

In order to learn the stone’s secrets, Helen had to reappear. Without any family of her own, she’d probably run to the only mother figure she had.

Philip buckled his seatbelt and shifted the car in gear.

It was time to pay Mrs. Dawson a personal visit.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Amber sat quietly on the back porch of Mrs. Dawson
’s home. With the exception of Mrs. Dawson, everyone had left early in the morning. The children were with Helen, and the others were finding suitable clothing and supplies to meet their needs during their stay in this century. When asked to go along, Amber waved them off. “I’ll have plenty of time to explore. Besides, wearing this cloak might appear suspicious. We wouldn’t want any unnecessary attention while everyone is here.”

There was some legitimacy to her excuse for not accompanying them for the day, but the truth was, Amber needed time in her new world to adjust. Myra had warned her of all the modern conveniences and overall noise of this century. Her warnings didn
’t do justice to the reality. There were people all around them, strangers whose twisted emotions seeped through the cracks of Amber’s protective cloak. She needed to find a more convenient means of protection. Wearing the cloak at all times might have made lifting her head easier, but it would draw curious eyes. From what Helen had said, the hot weather of California wouldn’t lend itself to a long robe of any kind. Lizzy was searching for a garment that would suit Amber’s needs so they could charm it before they were summoned back in time.

On a sigh, Amber picked up the empty cup used for tea and made her way into the kitchen. The smooth counters and ovens that didn
’t use fire to heat brought a smile to Amber’s lips. She ran her hand along the ice box and opened it long enough to feel the cool temperature inside. Multiple colored liquids sat in glass containers on the shelves. She felt as if she were violating someone’s privacy by peeking inside so she didn’t continue exploring the refrigerator.

Amber heard Mrs. Dawson
’s footsteps in the hall. “There you are,” she said with a smile. “I was wondering where you might explore first.”

Amber
’s spine stiffened. “I’m sorry if I overstepped—”

“Nonsense. Overstep all you like. How else are you to learn?” Mrs. Dawson slid onto a stool at the counter.

“You’re too kind.”

“It isn
’t every day I have the company of a beautiful woman from a century long past. I’ll bet you have a question or two about everything in this room.”

Amber glanced around. “Aye,” she said.

“Then ask.”

Smiling, Amber pointed to the first object she saw. “What is this used for?”

“It’s a toaster. You put sliced bread into the slots, push down the button and in a minute or two, the bread is cooked on both sides.”

She placed her fingers on the lever. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Amber pushed the lever down and watched the inside of the machine turn red. “Amazing.”

Mrs. Dawson proceeded to give everything in the room a name. A coffee maker, a can opener, a dishwasher—too many names and uses for Amber to process. It was all fascinating and a bit overwhelming.

How had Myra managed without the guidance of someone who understood where she came from? When her sister returned, she
’d have to ask.

The telephone rang and Amber jumped.

“It’s only the phone.” Mrs. Dawson winked and reached to answer it. “Hello?”

Amber avoided listening, but Mrs. Dawson
’s body tightened as she spoke. “Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Lyons, but I’m a bit indisposed at the moment. Would it be too much trouble for you to come back in an hour?” Mrs. Dawson placed a hand over the phone and whispered. “It’s Helen’s boss. He’s at the gate.”

“Why is he here?”

Mrs. Dawson shrugged. “Hold on, Mr. Lyons.”

“What should we do?”

“He already sounds suspicious. If we turn him away, he might linger and be here when Helen and the others return.”

“Is it safe to allow him in?” Only one maid wandered the grounds. Hardly any protection against a man.

“He’s never threatened me.” Mrs. Dawson placed her attention back to the man on the phone. “Come on in, Mr. Lyons. I’ll have Amber meet you at the door while I find something suitable to wear.”

After disconnecting the call, Mrs. Dawson waved Amber toward the front door. “Talk with him for a few minutes, see if you can use that extra sense of yours to find anything out. I
’ll call Helen and make certain she doesn’t come back with him here.”

Amber
’s heart jumped in her chest. She knew how to greet visitors, but this one posed a threat to Helen, or so they thought. By the time she reached the door, Mr. Lyon’s knock sounded in the hall. She flattened her hand over her stomach and twisted the handle.

The man standing in the doorway wore a simple smile that brightened when his eyes met Amber
’s. “You must be Amber.”

“Yes. Mrs. Dawson will be down in a moment, won
’t you come in?” Stepping aside, Amber let the man pass, ignoring the fluttering in her insides. It was common for women in this century to meet strange men without a chaperone at their side. The experience however, was new for her.

“Thank you,” Philip said. “Are you Mrs. Dawson
’s nurse?”

Amber shook her head. “House guest.”

He moved his head to the side. “Ah.”

She would have offered to take his coat had he been wearing one. “Shall we wait for Mrs. Dawson in the library? She
’ll only be a minute.”

“Fine.”

Amber felt his stare as she led him into the dark room. “Can I get you anything?”

“I
’m fine, thank you.”

Philip stared at her after sitting on the edge of the sofa. Their conversation stalled and awkward silence filled the room. “What brings you here today, Mr. Lyons?”

“Mrs. Dawson and I have a mutual friend who has gone missing. I was hoping she’d have some information.”

Amber couldn
’t tell if he was sincere with the cloak covering her shoulders. His dark eyes didn’t hold his thoughts.

“Philip.” Mrs. Dawson leaned on her cane as she entered the room. Amber eyed the stick, but didn
’t say a word about it. The older woman limped toward them and Philip stood.

“I
’m sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you’d heard something.”

“Nothing I
’m afraid.” Mrs. Dawson turned toward Amber. “Can you be a dear and ask Mavis to make tea?”

“I
’ve come at a bad time. I won’t be staying,” Philip said. “I know Helen would want me to check on you.” His gaze drifted to Amber. “But I see you have company.”

“No need to worry about me, Philip, but thank you for your concern. Have you heard from the authorities?”

Philip hesitated before shaking his head. Amber wasn’t sure if Mrs. Dawson noticed his hesitation, but she had. Trying to stay unnoticed, Amber pulled one arm out of her cloak and adjusted to the weight of anxiety surrounding her. Her heart started to leap and a small ache pulsed behind her right ear.

It didn
’t seem as if Philip would be staying long, and losing this opportunity to read the man might not come again.

“They spoke with my staff and interviewed her neighbors.”

“I somehow think she’ll turn up.”

Philip
’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you say that?”

“She
’s a resourceful girl. Maybe she’s met a man who whisked her away.”

How clever of Mrs. Dawson to offer a plausible explanation for Helen
’s disappearance.

“Don
’t you think she’d call if that were the case?”

Amber slid the cloak off one shoulder and took a deep breath.

“Have you ever been in love, Philip?”

“No, can
’t say that I have.”

Amber grasped the edge of the cloak and allowed it to leave her back. The room pitched and swam, causing nausea to rise in her throat. Mrs. Dawson and Philip were deep in conversation, neither of them paying her any attention.

Amber hugged the cloak to her stomach. Mrs. Dawson’s anxiety rose in Amber’s mind.

Mavis, was questioning the sudden appearance of all Mrs. Dawson
’s houseguests, worried that they were there to steal some of Mrs. Dawson’s wealth.

“Love makes a person do crazy things.”

The pounding behind Amber’s ear surged through her head and her palms began to sweat.

“Has Helen told you about a man in her life?” Philip asked.

“No.”

Amber felt a twinge behind the word, telling her Mrs. Dawson lied.

“I hope you’re right. That this search for her is in vain.” Philip’s words held the same twinge. He didn’t want Helen to show up with a man on her arm. He lied, but why?

“Do you think she
’ll return with a suitor?” Amber asked.

Philip turned and fixed her with a stare.

Mrs. Dawson eyed the cloak and forced her concern away.

“As long as she returns, I really don
’t care who she shows up with.”

Again with the lies.

Stepping closer, Amber smiled. “I hope you’re right, Mrs. Dawson.”

Every step closer to Philip felt as if she walked in mud. Something dark hovered over the man, but Amber couldn
’t read it. She let the cloak dangle in her arms. When she was close enough to the man, she pretended to trip.

Philip held out a hand to steady her. When his fingers touched her flesh the mud around his emotions splashed away and left dirty, readable water.

Philip Lyons was not an innocent man searching for a friend.

Helen would do well to stay clear of him.

“How clumsy of me. Much thanks,” she told Philip before shaking his hand off. As much as she probably should have held on to learn more of his secrets, the pain of his presence was unbearable.

Mrs. Dawson pushed forward and helped Amber return the cloak to her shoulders. “You
’ve hardly recovered from your cold, m’dear. You should keep this on.”

As the cloak silenced the emotions in the room, Amber started to breathe easier.

“I should be going,” Philip said. “Let me know if you hear anything.”