The Syndicate (Timewaves Book 1) (21 page)

“No, sir. I loved Paris when I came for training, and I’ve always wanted to come back. This assignment was the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.”

The lie came easily, since it was rooted in truth.

Cyrus studied me for a long moment. “Well, you’ll tell me if there is anything I can help you with? I’m already here, after all.”

“Of course,” I agreed, forcing a smile. “Goodnight, Cyrus.”

“’Night, Stassi.”

Just as I reached my room, I heard him call up to me.

“Don’t worry about Gaige. We’ll get this all straightened out in the morning.”

I prayed he was right, yet something told me things would get a whole lot worse before they got better.

I SLEPT LATE
the next morning. Cyrus was gone by the time I finally dragged my exhausted self downstairs. Gaige was sitting at the formal dining table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. An uneaten plate of toast, bacon, and hardboiled eggs was pushed off to one side of him, right next to a bouquet of red roses.

“Coffee’s in the kitchen,” Gaige called without looking up from his paper.

“I take back every mean thing I’ve said about you in the last week,” I said, stifling a yawn. I pointed to the flowers on my way to the kitchen. “Are those for me? You shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t,” Gaige called after me. “They came by messenger first thing this morning. I have a bottle of 2312 Damiani Merlot that says lover boy sent them.”

“I think you mean
I
have a 2312 bottle of Damiani Merlot,” I shot back.

“Exactly. And if I’m right, I’ll be drinking it with my first meal back on the island.”

“That wine was a gift from Molly. So, no, I’m not betting with you—you’ve probably already read the card and know who sent the flowers. I assume by ‘lover boy’ you mean Charles DuPree. If so, you should be the one sending him flowers, since he did stake his reputation on you showing up at the station today.”

“Dudes don’t give other dudes flowers, Stass. I’ll send him some scotch—that’s a manly gift.”

I added sugar and cream to a lukewarm cup of coffee, then joined him in the dining room. Gaige plucked a thick manila envelope from the bouquet and tossed it across the table to me.
Anastasia Prince
was scrawled in bold black strokes across the front. The seal was still intact.

“‘I’m sorry’ are the words you’re looking for,” Gaige deadpanned, turning back to his newspaper.

The front page of the paper was facing me. Once again, the prominent front page headline was about the Night Gentleman.

“Whatever,” I grumbled, sliding my nail along the flap to break the seal.

Inside was a note written on cardstock the same color and quality as the envelope. Smiling, since I figured the flowers had to be from Charles, I began to read.

Roses are red, violets are blue.

Fire is cleansing, yet deadly, too.

Will you find me, before I find you?

All the best,

Mitchell T. Baylarian.

I threw the note on the table, like a potato too hot to hold. Gaige’s head shot up, surprise evident in his dark gaze.

“Was he too forward? Too kinky? Did he say he wants to lick your face?” Gaige teased.

“What? Eww. No. It—it’s not from Charles,” I stammered.

My partner’s expression turned serious. “Who is it from?” he asked, his voice low and a little intimidating.

I couldn’t bring myself to touch the vile note again. Mitchell T. Baylarian was not a name I recognized, but I had a strong suspicion the sender often went by a different name: The Night Gentleman.

Gaige snatched the note from the table and read it aloud. All the color had drained from his face by the time he reached the last word.

“Frack me!” my partner exclaimed. “You don’t…this can’t be…is this from
him
?”

I must have started hyperventilating, because the next thing I knew, Gaige was forcing my head between my knees and urging me to breathe slowly.

That was when Cyrus returned. He might have asked if I was okay. He might have said a bomb just detonated on the street in front of the townhouse. My head was spinning too much to be sure of anything in that moment.

“Baylarian has to be Lachlan Shepard, right?” Gaige was saying when I finally felt well enough to sit up straight.

Cyrus had the note in his hand and a grim expression on his face. “It’s possible they are one and the same,” he admitted. “I’ll have the alchemists look into him. If Baylarian is a real person, they’ll find him.”

My boss sat in the chair next to me, scooting it closer to mine until our knees were touching. “Are you okay, Stassi?” he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, waving off his concern. “I’m sorry, I overreacted. It’s just, well, I wasn’t expecting
that
.” I gestured towards the note in Cyrus’s hand.

“You have every right to be upset,” Cyrus soothed.

“He’s right, Stassi,” Gaige chimed in. “This whackjob has singled you out.”

Emerald daggers shot from Cyrus’s eyes. Gaige flinched.

“We don’t know that Baylarian is the Night Gentleman,” my boss stated firmly.

I stared at him doubtfully.

Cyrus held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Let’s see what the alchemists find on him, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed.

Cyrus stood. “Your travel documents should be ready by now, I’ll pick them up while I’m down there. Stassi, why don’t you shower and get dressed for the day? The alchemists have located Lachlan Shepard at the Ritz hotel. I want to pay him a visit, perhaps you can join me?”

“Wait. So, Shepard is using his real name? Then who is this Baylarian guy? And which one of them is the Night Gentleman? I’m so confused,” Gaige grumbled.

“Lachlan Shepard is registered at the Ritz—that is all I know right now,” Cyrus replied calmly. “Hopefully I’ll know more after visiting the hotel.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said.

Cyrus smiled down at me fondly. “Good. I’ll be back within the hour. Is that enough time for you to get ready?”

“I can make it work.”

I remained seated at the dining room table, staring numbly at the flowers, long after Cyrus left. Gaige, loyal as a Labrador, stayed with me.

“I’m gonna get rid of these,” he proclaimed, reaching for the flowers.

I held up my hand. “No, not yet. We should probably have them tested for poison and stuff.”

My partner snatched his hand back. “Right. Good point.” He studied me thoughtfully.

“Stop, please,” I begged. “I’m really okay.”

But I wasn’t. Far from it. That letter had been addressed to me. Like Gaige said, the whackjob had singled me out. Why? Why me?

“If you say so,” Gaige hedged, clearly not falling for my ruse.

“I promise, Gaige. It’s locked up, swear.”

Gaige grinned, though I could tell he was still concerned. “It better be. Because I’m thinking a little late night B&E is in order. After Stein’s party, of course. I need my partner on top of her game.”

“Shakespeare and Company?” I guessed.

“It’s like we share a brain.”

“Scary.”

By the time I showered and dressed for the day, Cyrus had returned. He and Gaige were talking in the living room when I descended the stairs. And Ines was with them. Goodie.

“There was one slight issue with timing,” she was saying. “The
Queen Mary
was the most recent ship to arrive in London from Baltimore, and it pulled into the harbor on Monday, March 2
nd
. The first murder occurred on March 5
th
, which would have given Gaige enough time to reach Paris and commit the crime. We created fare receipts for the ship, just with a different arrival date: March 24
th
. By the time that inspector is able to nullify your story, your run will be complete and you’ll be back home.” Her smile was tight and strained. “Then you have your boat-train tickets, from London to Paris, arriving on March 26
th
. Those are legitimate and will standup to scrutiny.”

“Cyrus, do you think we should keep going with this run?” Gaige asked. “A lot has gone wrong.”

“A lot has gone right, too,” I interjected, joining the others in the living room.

All three turned skeptical eyes toward me.

“Since when did you become the love child of Sammy Sunshine and Rita Rainbow?” Gaige deadpanned.

“Funny,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I’m just saying that we’ve made a lot of progress in a very short time. We’ve already met the target. We’ve figured out a place where Rosenthal possibly kept a section of
Blue’s Canyon
. We’ve been invited to one of Gertrude Stein’s salon parties. We’re making friends. I think we have a good shot of completing this run in a much shorter timeframe than we anticipated.”

The Founder wrinkled his tanned forehead as he considered my position.

It was weird. For some reason, I was fighting to continue the run, when I wasn’t even sure I wanted to stay. I was conflicted, torn between a desire to return to the safety of the island, where crazies didn’t send me ghoulish poems, and the hope that I would find a clue as to who I was if I stayed.

“Stassi’s right,” Cyrus declared. “You two have made impressive progress. For now, you should continue, as long as it does not cast any additional doubt on Gaige. We’ll see how it plays out over the next couple of days with Lachlan Shepard, Mitchell T. Baylarian, the Night Gentleman, and whatever else inevitably goes wrong.” He winked. “And if things get worse, it’s straight back to the island for you, and I’ll bring in a cleanup crew. You two feel okay with that?”

“Yes, sir,” Gaige and I said in unison.

Ines cleared her throat loudly to draw the attention her way. “I spoke to Andre this morning, he phoned to see how things went last night. When I told him about Gaige’s treatment by the police, Andre was beside himself. It seems you made quite an impression on him last night.”

When no one commented on this, Ines continued hesitantly.

“On Saturdays, Andre, Ezra, and Ernest box at this little gym not far from here. Andre wanted me to ask if you would care to join them.”

“Awesome,” Gaige replied enthusiastically.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Maybe you should lay low for a little while, until you aren’t the chief suspect in a string of murders,” I said. “Not to mention that you have to visit the police station, or Charles will be held accountable.”

“It is a wonderful idea,” Ines argued, as if I’d offended her. “Gaige will visit the station and attend to this line-up business beforehand. Spending time with the menfolk during their masculine pursuits will give him a chance to bond with Andre, and the other two will find him fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” I echoed doubtfully.

“Oh yes, dear. The macabre is very compelling.”

Cyrus studied Ines, his expression unreadable. If I had to guess, he was weighing her frivolity. I half-expected him to issue some reprimand about her carefree attitude in the midst of several crises, but Cyrus passed over the alchemist in favor of Gaige.

“Gaige, I need you to be honest with me here,” our boss said. “Do I need to come down to the stationhouse with you?”

“No, sir,” Gaige replied decisively. “The only reasons they have to be suspicious of me will be simple enough to clear up, I can handle this. I will present our new travel receipts to prove I was not here when the killings began. Then the audience member who spoke to the killer will quickly confirm I wasn’t the one he spoke to, and that will be that.”

Cyrus seemed to appreciate Gaige’s confidence. Evidently, a runner being suspected of murder wasn’t quite as high of a priority as a runner going rogue.

“Very well, then,” Cyrus declared. “Stassi and I should be off to the Ritz. Let’s all hope Shepard is there, and at least one mystery will be solved.”

With our plan in place, Ines left to contact Jacque to let him know Gaige would need to be driven to the station shortly. Gaige followed her to scour the customs closet, in need of whatever passed for workout clothes in the 1920s.

The alchemists had more than one vehicle and more than one driver, but Cyrus insisted on taking a taxi to the Ritz Hotel. He was the boss for a reason, so I didn’t protest.

“The Ritz is an odd choice,” I mused, just loud enough for Cyrus and not the driver to hear me. “Isn’t it a little upscale for a runner going off-grid?”

Not that I was complaining. In fact, I was genuinely curious to see the lavish hotel where fashion maven Coco Chanel kept a suite.

“It definitely is,” Cyrus agreed. “He should have picked something low-key and out of the way. That’s what I’d have done if I were him.”