I almost expect to see Iffy sitting in Marilyn’s Prius at the curb, waiting for me. But neither Iffy nor the car is there.
Using the money I kept in my satchel for when I returned, I take a bus to her neighborhood. It’s nearing two p.m. when I finally turn onto her block. The first thing I notice as I approach her house is that the Prius is gone.
Maybe she did go to find me and we crossed paths. Or maybe she has no idea I’ve returned and headed back to Los Angeles, thinking my story about the end of her world was a lunatic’s fantasy.
I decide to check anyway.
A woman who has to be Iffy’s mother answers the door. The eyes, the nose, the cheeks — they’re the same as her daughter’s. It’s only their mouths that are different. Iffy has fuller lips that always seem one step away from a sly smile. Her mother’s are thin and cut a flat line below her nose.
“Yes?” the woman asks.
“Is Iffy around?”
“You just missed her. She left about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Do you know where she went?”
“I have no idea. Somewhere with her friend, I guess.”
“Friend?”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “I didn’t get your name.”
“I’m Denny.”
“Oh, you’re Denny,” she says as she reassesses me. “Hold on.”
She disappears inside, and returns a few seconds later with a slip of paper. “Her friend said to give you this. Said you’d know what it means.”
I take the paper from her. On it is written a time, four p.m., and a location number — a Chaser location number. I feel my skin go cold as I realize the handwriting matches that of the note Lidia gave me for the 1702 meeting.
I think back to the field as everyone was popping out to return to the institute, and realize I didn’t actually see Lidia leave.
The suspicion in her eyes — did she know I was lying and follow me somehow?
“They’ll be back at some point,” Iffy’s mom says. “I’d invite you in but I’m leaving to run errands soon, so…”
“It’s okay. I’ll find them.” I try to look as relaxed as possible, but that’s the last thing I feel.
As soon as she closes the door, I run down the street until I reach a small strip of land next to the road that’s been turned into a mini-park. A man is playing with his dog at the other end but the rest of the area is empty. I sit on a bench that faces the road and pull out my Chaser.
When I push the power button, nothing happens. It takes four more tries before the screen reluctantly comes to life. I bring up the location calculator and enter the number Lidia left for me. A map appears, pinpointing the spot. Unfortunately it’s a map of my old world, so I can see the spot is right on the beach but I can’t tell how it relates to this reality.
Making my best guess at the coordinates, I try to make the jump but the power shuts off again.
I swear under my breath, then jog over to the man with the dog. “Do you know the time?”
At the sound of my voice, the dog begins to run toward me.
“Jasper, come,” the man says.
The dog halts between us, its eyes on me.
When the man repeats, “Come,” Jasper returns to him. The owner then looks at his watch. “It’s 3:05.”
“Thanks.”
I have less than sixty minutes.
I don’t know what Lidia’s plans are, but I can guess.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
My plan is to catch a bus, but when I find one of the stops and ask a woman waiting there if I’m in the right place, she laughs.
“The only place this bus’ll take you is north,” she says. “You need to go west. To do that from here, you’ll have to go south first, then transfer to the one going to the beach. Not sure of the number.”
“How long do you think that will take?” I ask.
“Depends on how quickly the bus arrives. Maybe forty minutes. Could be an hour.”
An hour? I need to find a different way. “Thank you,” I say, and move off.
Half a block away, I see some people sitting in the patio area of a restaurant. I run up to the wooden railing that separates the patio from the parking area and yell, “I’m sorry to bother you, but can any of you give me a ride to the beach?”
Several people look over and then just as quickly return to their drinks.
“Please. It’s an emergency.”
A guy sitting at a table about ten feet away looks at me and raises an eyebrow. “The beach is an emergency?”
“I have to meet someone there at four. It’s…”
As the man laughs, I realize no one here is going to help me.
I run down the street and spot a large parking area in front of a big store with a sign reading HOME DEPOT. There’s a lot of traffic going in and out.
I concentrate on those walking back to their vehicles. The first person I ask looks at me as if I were crazy and hurries off before I can even offer what cash I have. Three more people react the same way.
Why won’t anyone help me?
I whirl around, looking for my next target.
“Please,” I say to a couple of guys who aren’t much older than I am. “Are you headed to the beach? I need a ride.”
“Get lost,” one of them says.
I’m about to turn away when the other guy says, “Which beach?”
“Straight west of here.” I don’t know what it’s called, but that’s where the point on the map was.
“PB?” he asks.
“Maybe. I’m not from here.”
“Come on, Jerry. Let’s get out of here,” the first one says.
The other one — Jerry — still looks at me. “We can get you most of the way there. You’ll have to ride in the back of the truck, though.”
“I’m fine with that. Thank you.”
His friend looks upset, and they fall into a whispered conversation as I follow them to their vehicle. Then Jerry nods at the open rear cargo area of a vehicle and says, “Get in.”
I pull my cash out of my pocket. “Here. It’s all I’ve got. Fifteen dollars. For your trouble.”
“Keep it,” Jerry says. “We’re going that way anyway.”
I sit with my back against the passenger cabin, sharing space with several boards, some round cans with thin metal handles, and a cloth tarp.
As the two guys deposit their bags next to the boards, Jerry says, “You’ll have to lie down. If the police catch you back there, we’re both going to be in trouble.”
“No problem,” I say.
I stretch out as best I can as they climb into the cab, and then we’re on our way.
The vehicle seems to be in a constant state of agitation, and I feel every bump. Turns are another problem. If I don’t brace my arm against the side, I’ll slide around, something I learned quickly when my shoulder smacks into one of the cans.
All I can see are the tops of buildings and blue sky, but nothing can keep away the feeling that I’ll be too late.
I don’t know how Lidia got her hands on Iffy, but there’s no question about why she took her.
To control me. And it’s working.
The truck has stopped so many times that I don’t even notice anymore, so I’m surprised when I hear one of the doors open.
Jerry peeks into the back. “This is as close as we can get you.” He points to the left. “That way three blocks and you’ll be there.”
I hop to my feet. “Thank you so much.”
My satchel bounces against my hip as I move to the edge. Before I climb out, I grab one of the coins I have inside and hand it to him. “Take this, at least. It’s not much, but—”
“What is this?” he asks, turning it around.
I jump onto the street. “Eighteenth-century Spanish dollar.”
“Are you serious?”
I nod. “Thank you again.”
Before he can say anything more, I run off in the direction he pointed.