Page 78 of After 5
Jake moved to face off with Marco. “I can’t control her any better than you can!”
“Then for the love of God, fire her!”
Whoa. Did Marco just try to get me fired?
Jake placed a hand to his earpiece and held up a finger. His face darkened and a moment later he said, “We’ve got bigger fish to fry. Mortas jumped.”
“Let me guess, he went back to the Civil War?” Marco said.
The thick testosterone-filled sarcasm started to suffocate me. I sidestepped toward the exit.
Ace battled back into the conversation, and the three men argued vehemently over our impending destination.
I backed out of the hangar and headed toward the travel lab. Caiyan’s words “smoke and mirrors” resounded in my head and I hoped his disappearing act was part of the plan.
Al greeted me as I entered the lab. “You’ve changed your look.”
With all the fuss, I had forgotten I wore the dark wig and mustache. “I went to the wedding.”
Al’s eyebrows shot up.
Pickles sat at his workstation, hands moving frantically as he watched the travelers on his screens.
I offered a greeting, and he did a double take when he glanced my way. A few more clicks and he leaned back, stretched his long arms over his head. “Das good. Everyone has settled into da pattern nah.”
Al and I moved in front of the big screen centered in the room. Black and blue dots blinked back at us, signifying the brigands and the travelers.
“Where did Mahlia jump?” I asked him, praying my assumption of the jump wasn’t correct.
“Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and Mortas is on her tail.” He used the remote to zoom in on the location.
Damn, I knew it! “It’s not Mahlia. I saw her at the wedding after Caiyan disappeared. It’s Toecheese. He was wearing her key in Salem.”
“Dat makes sense.”
We turned toward Pickles. “I saw a fat, dark-haired man in my vision. I thought I’d eaten too much Callaloo. We’ll label as such.” Pickles cocked his head in my direction. “Did the brigand put on a few pounds?”
“He dressed as a priest and wore a fat suit. He vanished with Caiyan in the middle”—yes middle, my inner voice did a happy dance—“of the wedding.”
Jake, Ace, and Marco joined us as Pickles walked over to examine my getup.
“Ya look like a real man. Except, I would have put a bigger sock in da trousers. You want ta look authentic.”
“Not everyone has a big sock,” I said.
Pickles raised an eyebrow at Marco.
“Don’t look at me, man. She’s never seen my sock.”
All eyes moved to Jake, and Jake huffed. “Focus people. Where’s that bastard gone now?”
“Mortas is here,” Al used his pointer to indicate a blinking black dot. “Gettysburg, 1863.”
“Christ.”
“Kishin is here,” Al slapped the pointer against the map.
“Caiyan’s been dumped in the past,” I said. “He’s got to be with Toecheese.”
