September Sky (American Journey Book 1) (41 page)

Justin exited the cabin, locked the door, and walked around the structure to a stretch of beach that was more rocks and weeds than sand. For several minutes, he did nothing but stare at the ocean. He noticed that the waves had become larger and more intense in just the past day. He didn't even want to guess what they would look like in twenty-four hours.

He started toward his next stop. A few minutes later, as darkness began to fall over the city, Justin reached the mansion at Tenth and M and gave it a quick inspection. With the shutters closed and the lights turned off, the residence appeared to be unoccupied.

Justin opened the gate and walked to the front door. He knocked twice. When he didn't hear any activity inside the house, he knocked again – harder – and announced himself with a shout. No one answered. No one answered when he shouted a second time.

He knew another round of knocks and shouts would probably be fruitless. Max and Isabella were undoubtedly pulling files at Beck Atlantic, visiting friends, or sleeping upstairs.

Deciding that he would rather damage a house than abandon a sleeping couple, Justin picked up a rock he found in the yard and threw it at an ornamental window that ran along the side of the door. He put his hand through the broken window, turned a knob, and opened the door.

Justin searched the first floor first. He entered every room, turned on nearly every light, and occasionally called out for Max and Isabella.

Justin found each chamber empty. No one occupied the dining room, the kitchen, or the living room. When Justin entered Max's study on the south side of the house, he found books on shelves and papers on desks but no shipping magnates in their chairs.

So Justin proceeded to the second floor. He ascended the steps, walked down a hallway to the master bedroom, and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he opened the door and stepped inside. He saw jewelry on a dresser and clothes in a closet but nothing to suggest that the Becks were either home or planning to leave town for a few days.

Justin did a cursory search of Anna's room and then moved on to Emily's. Just the sight of the latter was enough to trigger memories of love on moonlit nights and goodbyes that were more than just goodbyes. For the second time that day, he questioned whether he could actually leave Emily Beck. The answer was not as clear as he thought it would be.

When he finished searching a house that probably hadn't been occupied for several hours, Justin turned off all of the lights and headed for the front door. When he reached the entry, he saw a dozen pieces of glass on the floor and swept them to the side with his foot.

He considered cleaning up after himself, like he had in the cabin, but decided against it. The Becks would find evidence of a break-in no matter what he did and would soon have bigger issues to contend with than broken windows and glass on the floor.

Justin opened the door, closed it, and then walked briskly toward the sidewalk. When he reached the gate, he took one last look at the Gulf and noticed that it was as restless as ever.

He thought about where he should go next, decided that Beck Atlantic was the logical choice, and passed through the gate. He turned north and started to head up Tenth but didn't take five steps before he ran into a policeman with his gun drawn.

"Hold it right there," the lawman said. "Turn around and put your hands on top of the fence."

Justin did as instructed.

"It's not what you think, Officer."

"I'll be the judge of that," the policeman said.

The officer frisked him with one hand and then took a step back.

"Please empty your jacket pockets."

"I didn't take anything," Justin said.

"I won't ask again."

Justin reached into his empty left pocket and turned it inside out.

"Now, pull out the other."

Justin reached into his not-so-empty right pocket. When he slowly pulled out the lining, the blue crystal fell to the ground.

"It's mine, Officer."

The policeman picked up the stone and put it in his pocket.

"That will be for a judge to decide."

"You don't understand," Justin said. "I didn't take anything. I just went into the house."

"You
broke
into the house," the officer said. "That itself is a crime."

"You don't …"

"Don't say another word," the cop said. He handcuffed Justin. "You're coming with me."

CHAPTER 71: EMILY

Houston, Texas – Saturday, September 8, 1900

"You haven't seen him?" Emily asked in a panicky voice.

"No, dear, we haven't seen him," Isabella Beck said by telephone. "We haven't seen Justin since he came for you yesterday morning."

Emily closed her eyes and tried to wish away a headache. She couldn't believe that Justin hadn't stopped by the house. Then again, she couldn't believe her parents were still
at
the house.

"Listen to me, Mama. Listen to me carefully. You have to leave the house," Emily said. "You have to get to the train station as quickly as possible and get off the island."

"We can't do that now."

"What do you mean you can't do that now? Get Papa out of bed and go!"

"He can't move, Emily. He hurt his leg going up the stairs last night."

"I don't care if he
broke
his leg. You have to leave now! Call someone …"

Emily's stomach dropped when she heard a click. It dropped again when she tried to reestablish contact with her mother and was told by an operator that she couldn't.

Emily pounded the wooden side of the public telephone booth with a fist and stormed out of the station and onto a large platform, where Charlotte and Anna sat on a bench. She looked at an ornate clock that sat atop a tall cast-iron pole, noted the time of nine thirty-five, and reclaimed her spot on the bench next to Anna.

"Were you able to reach them?" Charlotte asked.

"Yes."

Emily frowned.

"What's the matter?"

"They haven't left yet," Emily said. "They haven't even left the
house
."

"What?"

"Papa hurt his leg."

"Oh, no," Charlotte said.

"I tried to tell Mama to call for help when we were disconnected."

"Can you call her back?"

Emily shook her head.

"No. I think the lines are down. They'll probably be down for the rest of the weekend."

Emily glanced at Charlotte and Anna and then put her face in her hands. She couldn't believe that her parents could be so naïve and reckless.

When she finally lifted her head and looked around the platform, she saw about thirty people gather near the side of a train that would soon leave for the island. She saw several others stand or sit in a waiting area. She did not see Charles Townsend or Wyatt Fitzpatrick.

"Where are the men?" Emily asked.

"They went to a store to get some supplies in case the storm knocks the power out. Charles said they would be back before the next train from Galveston arrives," Charlotte said.

"How do they know Justin will be on that train?"

"They don't."

"Have they even heard from him?" Emily asked.

"No. They haven't heard from him since last night."

Emily dropped her head again. The morning from hell had just become a little more hellish.

"What are they going to do if Justin's not
on
the next train?"

"I don't know," Charlotte said. She sighed. "I don't know."

Emily glanced again at the clock and saw that the big hand had moved five more clicks. She had less than five minutes to decide whether to do the unthinkable. When she saw a man run out of the station and make a beeline for a car near the front of the train, she got off the bench.

"Can you stay with Anna?" Emily asked.

"Can I what?" Charlotte asked.

"Can you stay with Anna?"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Galveston. It's the only way I can be sure that my parents get out of the house. I don't have a choice now. This may be the last train into the city today."

"I want to go too," Anna said.

"No! You stay here."

"I think you should wait," Charlotte said. "Keep trying to reach your folks by phone. Or call the authorities and ask if they can help. It's much too dangerous to go there now."

"I don't have time to argue, Charlotte. Will you watch Anna?"

"Of course."

"If telephone service resumes, call my parents at the house. If you can't reach them, call the police. Tell them that my father is unable to leave the house on his own and needs assistance."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine," Emily said. "I'll go to the house, get my parents if they are there, and at least take them to a place where we will all be safe. If the trains are still running, we'll take the first one back. Please tell the others that."

"I will."

"I want to go!" Anna said.

"No," Emily said. She dropped to a knee and looked her sister in the eyes. "I want you to stay with Charlotte. I will get Mama and Papa and bring them back. I promise."

Emily glanced at the clock. It was nine forty-three.

"Will you be a good girl for Charlotte?"

Anna glared at her sister for a few seconds and then reluctantly nodded.

"Thank you," Emily said.

Emily gave Anna a hug and a kiss, rose to her feet, and looked at Charlotte.

"I'll be back. Even if it's Sunday or Monday, I'll be back."

"I'll tell them," Charlotte said.

Emily smiled sadly at her former boss and then turned her attention to the train. The line of people waiting to board had dwindled to five. She ran inside the station, paid for a ticket, and then ran out the door to the last of six cars. The train had already started to inch its way forward.

With the help of a porter, Emily accessed the lowest step, climbed up two more, and turned around. She waved to her sister, who held Charlotte's hand thirty feet away, and then entered the back of the passenger car. With that, Emily Beck became the last person to leave mainland Texas for an island city that would soon be destroyed by the sea.

CHAPTER 72: JUSTIN

Galveston, Texas

Justin gazed at the iron bars and shook his head. As long as he lived, he would never get over the irony of the situation. Nearly four months after an unknown burglar had taken one of his family's two gypsum crystals, he found himself charged as a burglar with stealing the other.

After being hauled in a paddy wagon to the city clink, Justin had explained who he was and what he was doing, but his explanation had fallen on deaf ears. The police seemed convinced they had found a burglar who had victimized the neighborhood for weeks and not a family friend who had broken into a mansion only to warn a couple of an impending storm.

Justin could only imagine the fun Levi MacArthur would have if given the opportunity to prosecute the case. Levi would no doubt treat the well-intentioned vandalism as a crime against humanity and insist that Emily be a part of any plea-bargain agreement.

Justin knew that his show trial, of course, would occur only if he survived the next twenty-four hours. He hadn't seen any references to damaged jails or dead inmates in the hurricane articles he had read, but he knew that was no guarantee he would escape harm. He was as vulnerable as any other person in town and perhaps more so because he couldn't move.

He worried as well about the security of the crystal. Even if the police were kind enough to keep him from drowning, they might not take adequate care of the evidence. Justin would need his freedom
and
his pretty little rock to return to the future.

Justin let his mind wander to better things, like bike rides and midnight swims, but brought it back to the here and now when he saw a fortyish jail officer enter the cellblock – or whatever one called a room filled with innocents. When the officer passed his cell, he spoke up.

"Excuse me, sir."

The officer stopped and turned to face the accused.

"Yes."

"I'm wondering if you can answer a question for me," Justin said.

"It depends on the question, but I'll try."

"It's about an alleged crime last night. I just want to know whether the police have contacted Max and Isabella Beck about the property I didn't steal from their house. Have they?"

The jailer stepped closer.

"You must be Mr. Townsend, the burglar."

"I'm not."

"You're not Mr. Townsend?"

"No. Yes. I
am
Justin Townsend, but I am
not
a burglar. I'm a family friend who got caught in a situation that made me
look
like a burglar. Except for breaking a window to get in the house, I did nothing wrong."

The officer laughed.

"The judge should have fun with that."

"You shouldn't laugh. It's not funny," Justin said.

The jailer chuckled.

"I'm serious. It's not even mildly funny."

"I suppose it's not."

"It's not. Trust me," Justin said. "In any case, if you can help me out, I'd still like an answer to my question. Has anyone contacted the Becks since last night?"

"I haven't heard about anyone contacting the family. I'm sure if someone had – and you're as innocent as you claim to be – then you'd be a free man right now and not in here."

"Could you ask someone to call? I'm sure the Becks are home by now," Justin said. "The police could clear up this mess with one phone call or, better yet, a visit to the house."

"Even if that's true, young man, I don't expect anyone will take the time today. We've had a pretty busy morning, in case you haven't noticed."

"What's going on?"

"A storm is rolling in," the jailer said. "Most of our officers are out in the mud and water helping people get from one place to another."

"How bad is it?"

"It's bad. The waves along the Midway are getting very high. We've already had more than two dozen reports of property damage."

"Do you know if the houses near Tenth and M have sustained any damage?"