Time Thieves (5 page)

“I’m sorry. I’d have expected to have him show up, his body at least somewhere over the years. But it’s like he disappeared into thin air. There’s never been any sign of him since.”

Sari kept her gaze on the tea, not daring to let him see into her eyes. He’d always been very perceptive, and being a cop should have amplified that instinct over the years. She knew what she’d seen all those years ago, but there was no way she could share it with him.

Unfortunately.

“Sorry to dredge up bad memories.” Ward’s voice turned brisk. “What kind of repairs are you having done?”

She smiled at the change of subject and started laying out her plans to him.

He left soon after, leaving her wanting more. They’d left it open and casual. She just hoped he came back soon, or she’d have to track him down and take the next step. She’d really missed him. And they’d already lost enough time. She wasn’t up for losing too much more.

*

Several days later,
she watched the huge crane truck carefully drop long packages of roofing tiles on her roof. The one half had been stripped bare; her front lawn showed the evidence of the many attempts from the workmen to toss the ripped pieces into the supersized dumpster that had been delivered and was sitting in her driveway.

Soon the new roof would be finished. She’d been fascinated at the speedy coordination between men, equipment, and supplies. They were fast. Of course, the forecast was for rain and they wanted it done beforehand. So did she.

Several other contractors had come and gone, giving her estimates on various projects. The biggest one she had to decide on was the flooring. It would be expensive to do the entire house at once, not to mention a major pain as the house was fully furnished, but the old wooden flooring in the shop was looking a little dubious at this point.

She wandered inside to the shop. She needed a garbage bin out front like the roofers had. Honestly, had her mother tossed anything away before running off to Europe?

There were dishes in the shop, clean but just stacked on the one side. There was equipment hiding under years of dust. Books lined one wall, and she could almost peel the dust off them – it was so old. Speaking of which, she was likely to need a new furnace. Oh joy. Not for the first time, she wondered if the savings she’d set aside was going to be enough to bring the house back to order.

She wandered through the shop, letting herself pick up old books from her father’s collection and thumb through the yellowed pages. The titles intrigued her.
Time Encapsulated
.
Facts on Time Travel
.
Timepieces.
Alternate Dimensions.
She’d always assumed the books had to do with her father’s favorite hobby – watches. Sure, some did, but some were more fantastical in nature. Or esoteric maybe. She’d pondered the concept of time travel a lot over the years; how could she not after what she’d seen and experienced? She’d haunted websites, libraries, and databases while at university, but nothing had ever been able to explain the most defining moment in her life.

Finding out her father had apparently been fascinated by the topic made her wonder if he’d learned something important or had accidentally triggered something in that one timepiece – sending him somewhere else. She’d hated staring at old watches, feeling like her father was caught like a prisoner inside one. And no, she wasn’t ready for the nuthouse. But she’d racked her brain endlessly and that was the only conclusion she’d been able to come up with. It had really made it difficult to sit through some of her classes in school. She knew something they had no explanation for. Not that she’d brought the subject up. She’d tried several times with her mother, but Lisbeth had stuck to her version. That her father, instead of waiting for her to return with their hot chocolate, had gotten up from his chair and walked out the door – forever.

She also told Sari that she had to stop making up stories about her father.

Except Sari hadn’t been
that
young. If Sari hadn’t been home beside her father when he’d vanished in front of the two of them, hadn’t been searching then reaching for the same watch at the same time as her father, if she hadn’t been old enough to understand that he’d disappeared then…maybe. But she had been there. She had been about to pick up the timepiece. She had watched him disappear. Her mother had searched the room frantically as if that would give them a crevasse, a hole, a container, something that had held her father.

She’d screamed at the time, frantic. Sari hadn’t. She’d known even then how devastatingly wrong the whole mess was.

That was another mystery that Sari hoped to solve now that she was home.

Home?

Her mother’s place was just that – her mother’s place, never Sari’s home. Yes, it finally felt like she was home.

L
ater that afternoon,
she was in her father’s shop when she looked up through the window to see one of the workmen walking toward her. She met him at the front door.

“Sorry, but there’s some damage to the room directly above the shop. We’re going to need to take a closer look. Can we get inside the attic, please?” He motioned upward to the area of concern.

Sari stepped out and looked up. With the roofing tiles off of this side, she could see the underneath looked blackish to a dark brown. She wrinkled up her nose. It was just the one area, a bit bigger than a sheet of plywood. “I hope that isn’t mold.”

“We’re not sure what it is, actually.” He shook his head. “There wasn’t any damage on the surface of the roofing tiles to indicate this was below. Good thing we found it now though. We’ll have to get some wood in and replace these boards.”

“Come inside. The attic is actually accessible from this room. I just haven’t ever been in it.”

“Most people don’t go to their attics unless they have to. It’s too bad. If you keep an eye on it like the other rooms in your house, you’ll get an early warning that problems are starting.”

“I never even thought of it. Then again, I haven’t been in the house more than a few weeks.” She led the way into the front of the shop and pointed upward. In the corner of the room by the hallway was a large rectangular shaped door on the ceiling. “I don’t even know how to get up there.”

They walked closer. Sari stared at the door like she’d never seen it before. It was right above where her father had disappeared. How could something so important have been overlooked? All the time they’d searched for her father, they’d looked down. Had they even considered looking up? The workman strode over to stand underneath. “You’ve also got high ceilings. Is there a second floor here?”

She blinked. “There is on the rest of the house, but I don’t think there’s anything above us.”

“Except when we look at this area from the outside, it appears like there should be a room here.”

Had her father ever mentioned the attic? Not as far as she could remember. “Honestly, I’ve been away from this house since I was ten. I can’t remember ever seeing anyone go up in there. You’re welcome to look at the rest of the house. It’s a bit of a designer’s nightmare. It’s a split level with stairs going up in all directions. However, what would be the closest room to this is this way.” She led him out of the shop and into the main room. She took the first set of stairs on the left that went up to a landing and then up another small set of stairs. At the top, she opened a door on the right. “It’s the spare room. But as you can see, it’s got the dormer window.” She pointed it out, and with the slanted roof, there was no attic here.

He walked over to the window and looked out. They were on the right side of the damaged area. He went to the second window that overlooked the side street then walked back to stare at the solid wall on the right. He tapped the wall several times and frowned. “Weird. There’s a space here. The access panel must be what we’re thinking of as the attic door from downstairs.”

As they trooped down the stairs and back into the shop, the workman shook his head at the sight of two other small staircases leading in opposite directions. “Either this place has been renovated to hell and back again, or the original designer was nuts.”

She laughed. “Probably both are true.”

“There’s not even a handle for that trapdoor?” He stared in wonder up at the door just above his head. “I’ll go get the ladder off my truck.”

She watched him as he strode out and crossed the street to where his big truck sporting the name
Island Roofers
in large white letters across the side was parked. He unloaded a ladder mounted on the box.

Effortlessly, he carried the ladder inside and opened it up just below the attic door. He climbed up and pushed on the door.

It wouldn’t budge.

He stepped up another stair and put his shoulder into the next heave. There was an odd cracking, grunting noise as if the house itself was giving way. The door shifted and lifted. The workman eased back so he could change his hand position and lifted the door, shifting it sideways to open the area up wider.

“Well, that didn’t seem too bad.”

“Just seems stiff from disuse.” He unhooked a flashlight from his belt and stepped up higher, his head and shoulders disappearing into the attic. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“What is?” Sari waited anxiously. She could only watch his legs and torso as he twisted and shone the light in different directions. She moved closer, hoping to see what was up there.

“What’s up there?” Still no answer. She waited another minute. “Can you see anything?”

He bent over slightly enough, and his head popped below the ceiling so he could see her. “There’s lots of stuff up here. Come on up if you want. It appears to have a floor in here as well. There aren’t any windows, although I can see light through the damaged boards.” He straightened and with the simple maneuver of a man who lived a physical lifestyle, he hopped up inside her attic.

She stepped around to the rungs on the ladder and climbed up behind him. He was taller than her so she had to stand on the very top of the ladder in order to haul herself up higher into the attic. Once sitting on the floor, her legs dangling down, she saw that the attic door had levers that should have allowed it to drop down. It was obviously broken, but as it had a simple staircase attached, it would be a much easier way to get up and down. Something else she’d have to fix. She should have written a better list.

Her priorities were going to need to be re-evaluated. She stared into the gloomy interior, only able to see what the workman shone his light on. “Any idea if there is power here?” The light shifted around the room to a spot on the far wall. He walked over and hit a light switch. Immediately the room was lit up. She hopped to her feet and stared, fascinated at the room she’d had no idea existed. And it was full.

“Wow. I wonder what all this stuff is.”

“I don’t know how long your family lived here, but some of this stuff looks really old. How old did you say the house is?”

“The original part is supposed to be from the 1850s.” She wandered, looking at old seaworthy trunks and tables and the odd chair. There were a few odder-looking chairs sitting in the corner as well. In fact, the place was brimming full of history, and she couldn’t help but feel excited at the idea of learning more about her family. This house had been in her father’s family since it was built. “Amazing.”

The workman stood under the damaged part of the room and studied the warped wood. “This is the problem here.”

She looked up to see him pointing in one area. “Is there mold?”

“Not that I can see. We’ll need to replace this wood.” His voiced deepened at the end as he checked something else. “No, the struts and supports all look good.” He pounded the damaged wood lightly with his hand and the wood broke, letting splinters of light in. He hit it again, and a large piece broke off in his hand.

“Wow,” she whispered as the dense sunlight shone deep inside the room. “Sunlight would be so nice.”

“Pardon?” He turned to look at her, puzzled. “What did you say? Something about letting the sun in?” He stepped back and appraised the slanting roof. “Are you wanting a window or maybe a skylight in here instead?”