Time Thieves (8 page)

She walked back to her new piece. It appeared to be just an updated model of her father’s, yet just as old. She pulled out her tools and sat down in front of it. Her hand trembled so badly she was forced to put the tools back down again.

“Nuts!” She sat back and took a deep breath. “It shouldn’t be this hard.” But it was. She hadn’t been able to shake what she’d seen happen to her father all these years, and the memory sat beside her every day since.

That the same fate might happen to her wasn’t an issue; it was the hope of finding out what had happened to her father. To know for sure. To put that ghost to rest.

To be able to move on in life.

To move forward.

She picked up her tools and deliberately took the face off the timepiece. Lifting it away carefully, she placed it on top of the soft cleaning cloth then tilted the light so she could look at the insides of the machine.

Unlike the others she’d seen in the last fifteen years, this one looked…different. She sat back, puzzled. It was busier. But how? Then she saw it. There were markings on the casing underneath the working pieces similar to the outside of the timepiece.

Odd. She walked over to her father’s notes and studied the photos again. She should have them remembered by heart by now.

Disappointment made her stomach clench. No, wait. She bent to study the interior closer. She still couldn’t see. She tilted the lamp slightly and moved her big magnifying glass closer over the image and gasped. There, when the light hit it just right…it had the same markings as the new timepiece. Only fainter, softer, or more worn away. She couldn’t quite tell.

Fascinating. Exciting and terrifying.

She’d finally found a watch similar to the one her father had all those years ago. Similar, but not the same. And she had no idea what to do with it now. She didn’t know how similar either – or rather, how different.

She got up and walked to the window of the shop. Her hands shook so badly she wanted to stuff them into her mouth to hold back the building scream threatening to pour forth. Was this the moment she’d been waiting for? Since her father’s disappearance, every moment in time had come down to this one. She’d searched, planned, tried to find a matching unit to her father’s piece.

But why? Did she really feel like she could bring him back? Or that a matching one would give her a matching experience – and take her to wherever the first one had taken her father?

All of it was ludicrous. She loved her father, but he was gone.

And she wasn’t going to be able to get him back.

She spun around, narrowing her gaze at the new timepiece. She shuddered. Or was she?

I
t was ludicrous,
and still she couldn’t get the idea out of her mind.

Should she try it now or wait for the anniversary day? No. She needed to wait.

She stared at the markings that were so much clearer on this timepiece. She grabbed her notepad and camera and took a series of close up shots for her computer. She wanted to research the markings to see if there were any language or meanings she could find. They had to mean something.

The phone rang. She groaned, not wanting to leave what she was doing. Her mother. She ignored the call, hoping she’d give up. After fifteen rings, she finally did. Sari glanced at her voicemail, playing the recording. Her mother’s voice was disturbingly high-pitched. “Call me. Something odd has happened. I know you’re there. Please call me.”

Shit. Something was wrong. Her mother never said please.

Sari dialed, waiting impatiently for her mother to pick up. Nothing. Sari dialed again, this time fear making it hard to punch the right buttons. Thankfully her mother answered. “Mom, what’s the matter?”

“We had a break-in. I’m okay, just a little nervous. The police have just left. Boris is staying to keep me company.”

Boris?
Sari didn’t want to know. “Did they take anything?”

“I don’t know. I tried to take a close look, but it’s so hard. They were in my bedroom.
My bedroom
.”

Sari could almost see her mother’s delicate shudders. This time, she was in full agreement. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I had one a couple of days ago and know exactly how you feel.”

“What?” her mother shrieked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. I’m getting a new security system installed, and that should deter anyone else looking for quick cash.”

“That’s terrible.” Her mother’s voice was outraged. “Both of us in the span of a couple of days? How unbelievable.”

Yeah, a little too unbelievable. It was a big coincidence, something Sari had a hard time believing in anyway. Surely the two break-ins couldn’t be connected. “Mom, any idea if they were looking for anything specific?”

“The police asked the same thing. I don’t know. Of all the rooms in this house, why my bedroom?”

“What do you keep there?”

“Nothing expensive. My clothes and a few personal trinkets from your father. Everything valuable is in the safe, you know that.”

“Obviously the intruders didn’t, though.” But her mind had glommed onto the personal trinket comment. Since when did her mother have anything personal of her father’s? And if she had, why keep them a secret from Sari?

“Harrumph. I don’t like it, I can tell you. I feel violated. And I have a security system.” She sniffed. “Little good that did.”

“Did it not go off?”

“They cut the wires or something like that. Disabled it, I think the police said. Now I’ll have to get that fixed, too.”

Sari couldn’t shake the idea that was hammering away in the back of her mind. “What kind of trinkets from Dad do you have, and did they take any?”

“I never checked. Why would I – it’s not like they are worth anything. Your father never had any money to spend on the good stuff.” There was that
born with money
,
raised with money
, and with the exception of the years she lived with Sari’s father,
lived with money
snobbery.

“No, but he had the house, Mom. It’s not like he had nothing. Many people have so much less.” Sari rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Could you check to see if any of those trinkets are missing, please?” She waited a moment for her mother to sigh heavily. “And how come I don’t know anything about them?”

“Because you are too obsessed as it is about your father’s disappearance, that’s why. I didn’t want to show you anything that would set you off on another of your rampages.”

Rampages? Sari rolled her eyes. She dared any other child to have experienced what she’d gone through and not be obsessed. But there’s no way she’d gone on any rampages. Trust her mother to exaggerate.

“I’m looking now. I don’t know that the thieves would have even gotten to this drawer. I’m sure they were looking for cash or jewelry or electronics.”

“Maybe, but one never knows these days what people are thinking. They might have known about Dad.”

“So what if they did? Your dad was a jewelry repairman, and that’s all he was.”

“He was so much more, Mom.” The waspish tone of voice set Sari’s back up. “I’m sorry you weren’t happy with him, but he was a good man.”

“Well, he’s been gone a long time, so whatever he was no longer matters.”

But it does,
the small child who’d watched him disappear cried out.
He matters.
Sari knew the old echo wouldn’t be well received by her mother. Lisbeth had moved on, and that’s what she wanted Sari to do.

And Sari would, as soon as she found out what happened to her father.

“I can’t see anything missing. There was only an old ring of his, and his first watch that he got from his great-grandfather.”

“A watch?” Sari hopped to her feet and stormed around the small room. “He left you a watch?” Her heart threatened to jump out of her throat. Why was she just hearing about his now? “Do you still have it?”

“I just said so, didn’t I?” Lisbeth snapped. “Besides, they wouldn’t have found it anyway – it was under an old set of books of his. I’m sure they weren’t anything of interest.”

“What kind of books?” Sari marched over to the bookshelf in the shop. The top shelf was only three quarters full. She’d often wondered if more had belonged there. In her memories, the bookshelf was stuffed full.

“They were books from his great-grandfather. The only reason I took them was he told me they were very valuable.” She snorted. “I had them appraised when we first arrived in France. Worthless. They are all worthless. Like everything else he had.”

Oh good Lord. Sari closed her eyes against her mother’s mercenary streak. Her mother was
so
wrong.

“Then if they are worthless, can I have them?” Sari held her breath. Her mother had a crafty mind. She wasn’t the most open and generous soul around when it came to something you really wanted. If it was money, now that she handed over in buckets. But something sentimental, as if understanding it was worth so much more…you were so not going to get it.

“Why?”

This was the tricky part. “I’d like to keep his stuff all together. I just put everything on the one wall in the shop. It’s behind glass so I don’t have to dust it.”

She winced. It was also behind glass so she could lock it up. Not that a thief wouldn’t be happy to break glass to get at it. “The books should join his other books. Who knows, maybe someone will need them one day.”

Lisbeth sniffed again. “I suppose. At least it’s one less thing for me to cart around. Don’t be thinking they have any value though. I told you they were assessed.”

“That’s fine. I don’t care.”

Her mother grudgingly agreed. “Fine, then. But you’ll have to come home to pick them up.”

Sari rolled her eyes. Of course she would. “I might be in England next week.” She mentally calculated the time she had at the end of her trip as to how she could swing home and get her father’s stuff. In truth, she wanted to rush across the ocean today and get it. She couldn’t believe her mother had been keeping this from her all these years. When she went home this time, she’d make her mother hand over everything.

It could very likely be what the thieves had wanted after all.

*

Ward drove up
to Sari’s house and parked in the driveway. He got out and walked to the front of the house, staring up at the new window. From where he stood, there was no way anyone could have known that small room had existed. Now with the window already in place, he had a hard time imagining it had never been there.

As he stood there, Sari opened the front door. “Admiring my new window?”

“And roof.”

She smiled and joined him on the front lawn, turning to look up at the front of the house. “It looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Yup. Find anything of value in the attic?”

She shook her head and led the way back inside. “Not really. There appears to be old clothes and belongings from people long gone. I’m hoping to trace some of them and learn more about my family history, but they didn’t leave much behind.”

“If you have anything recent, I might be able to run them at the office. Of course, if they’ve never had any run-ins with the law, nothing is liable to pop.”

“True, but it would be a place to start. Some of the stuff appears to be quite old. Maybe fifty years. It’s hard to say at this point. I’ve only gone through one pile of stuff. A tall male is about all I know.” She grinned. “I doubt there’s a database for that, huh?”

“Only if he’s missing, then we have a height and weight description along with any other discerning marks.”

“Hmmm, but how far back? Computers have only been around for what – fifteen, twenty years?”

“Some of the other material is in microfiche, and some of it is in files.”

“Actually, the library is probably a good place to look – after the Internet.”

“And don’t forget to check genealogy sites. They would probably be the best resource.”

“I’d never thought of that.” She grinned. “This is great. I could learn all kinds of things there.”

He smiled. God, she was pretty. Then again he was biased, having been smitten for years. And it showed no signs of easing now. “What are you up to today?”