Page 15 of After 5
“Run, run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the sneaky little man.” He sang out as he leaned back out of my grasp.
Jake put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. “Everyone, take your seats!”
“I’m going to get you—you twerp.” I folded myself back into my chair and realized I had donut holes smashed down the front of my sundress. Perfect.
Ace, who had been unusually silent during the scuffle, crossed a knee and sat back filing a hangnail. “If Caiyan wanted us to know, we’d know.”
“What do you mean?” I asked him.
“The Scot never does anything without a reason. We need to wait for his plan to come to fruition, and then we’ll see what he’s up to.”
“What if it’s too late, and the damage has been done. He could ruin all of us.” Gerry’s contemptuous words cut deep.
“Do you think it’s a conspiracy theory?” Brodie asked.
Jake clicked off the projector. “I don’t know what to think. I doubt the Mafusos have plans for world domination, but whatever it is, it’s big.”
“More like traveler domination.” Tina stopped pecking at her phone and gave everyone a fearful stare. “If Caiyan has information on the King’s key, Gerry’s right, we could all be in trouble.”
The King’s key was rumored to be the start of the time travelers. The first key worn by the chief of an ancient tribe.
Silence filled the room. Only Jake’s shuffling through files in his briefcase broke the deadly quiet.
“I have intel on the sword Caiyan took from the museum a few months ago.” Jake plucked a file from his briefcase.
My ears perked up. While Caiyan was under the influence of the Thunder key, he had stolen a Confederate sword from the American Civil War Museum in Appomattox. He told me he was going to trade it to the Mafusos for his key, but then changed his mind. Instead he offered to join them.
Jake placed a yellowed newspaper clipping secured in laminate in front of me. The article was from 1950. The story highlighted the last Civil War veteran in Texas. A man by the name of Sam W. Raney, who had recently passed away at the age of one hundred and three.
“Was this man a traveler?” I asked.
“No,” Jake said.
I read the article further. There was a big to-do in the man’s small hometown following his death. His sword was anonymously donated to the Museum of the Confederacy in Appomattox, Virginia.
Reporters interviewed the man’s seventy-five-year-old son, who reported his pa had given the sword to a friend before his death.
“He was from Franklin county. That’s in Texas, not too far from Aint Elma’s house.”
“I researched the location, but we have no connections to any travelers outside of Elma’s family in the area.”
“Do you think there’s a link to a key?” Tina peered across the table at the clipping, and I scooted it toward her to read.
“There’s something worth looking into here, or McGregor wouldn’t have gone to the trouble to steal it,” Marco said.
“And the Mafusos wouldn’t want it,” Brodie added.
“I can search his apartment.” I felt my face heat as I offered to help. “I’ve—um—got a key.” Technically, it wasn’t breaking and entering if I had a key. “Maybe there’s a clue as to what he did with the sword?”
“It’s possible,” Jake said. “We’ve had eyes on his place, but no sign of him for the last three months coming or going from the building.”
“The bloke probably hid it in his office. I mean, any collector would give their eye teeth to have an actual Civil War sword,” Brodie said.
“Fine. Jen, after Brodie does his recon, I’ll clear you to check the apartment.” Jake stacked his files. “Brodie, search McGregor’s office and his home in Scotland. You three,” he pointed to Marco, Tina, and Gerry, “Keep an eye on the Mafusos. And…everyone, get some rest. I think our next moon cycle might be a busy one. This meeting is adjourned.”
“I’ll arrange a meeting next week with his partner. Maybe he left it in his protection.” Brodie gobbled down the last of the smashed donuts before he stood to leave.
I doubted Caiyan would leave an important clue for the Mafusos to find easily. Knowing Caiyan, it was probably stashed away in an obscure crypt or buried in a graveyard.
