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Now I understand. Booker gave me the watch because, out of all his detectives, I had an upfront and center view of suffering, thanks to my brother.
And here I thought he believed in me.
“The watch can only take you back to the moment a crime has been committed. And you have forty-eight hours to solve it.”
“What if I don’t solve it?”
He sighs. “Then it never gets solved.” His mouth pinches. “Try not to let that happen.”
Yeah, baby, I knew it. I mean, at this point, we all knew Booker could go back in time also, but remember, I guessed it back at the Foxes’. Some sort of smug satisfaction shows on my face, because Booker frowns at me.
“What?” he asks.
“That’s why you have such an amazing record of closed cases. Because you went back in time and solved them. That is cheating.”
He cocks his head, narrows one eye.
I am still grinning at him.
“Fine. You’re right, kid. But it was never about the record. It was about justice.”
Right. Yes. Justice.
And maybe Eve. And fixing the wounds of our past.
“Listen, if you have the watch, you also have your cold cases. Solve them. Methodically. One by one. Don’t skip any. And by the way, you can only solve your cold cases—no one else’s. And don’t ever forget that you have people’s lives, their futures, in your hands.”
That’s a little heavy, but my mind goes to Art, and I can’t shake the idea that something I did landed him in that chair. I feel a little like I did when I took my oath of honor. On my honor, I will never betray my badge, my integrity, my character or the public trust.
Oh, man.
But what if… “Chief. I know about a shooting—”
“Don’t—”
“But it’s someone—”
“Do you know who killed him?”
“Yes.”
“Then your job is done.”
“He’s not dead yet!”
“For you, he is.”
“But he’s…he’s a cop.”
Booker freezes, and he’s shut down, his mouth a grim line.
“Book. Please. Just this once.” And okay, twice, because, you know, Ashley. But by then, maybe I’ll have rewritten time, and Booker and I might not have had this conversation. Or maybe we will have and…
I’m seriously confused. But we all know that there are some promises we can’t keep, some rules that must be broken, right?
He swallows. Then looks at me and shakes his head. “No, Rem. You don’t understand. You can’t win against time. You aren’t here to save people. Changing history…you don’t know what you’re messing with. You don’t know that the tiniest change could, well it could destroy lives.”
I feel like he’s seeing inside my soul to my sins. I tighten my jaw, try and keep an even stare. Me? Change history?
