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“You went to that stakeout with Danny to stop him from getting killed.”
Yeah, I did. But here’s the thing. If he believes that I stopped Danny’s murder, then maybe he won’t get his knickers in a knot when I go over to the Mulligan’s house today…
To, um, stop the murderer.
So I nod. I really hate lying, but maybe I've already stopped Danny’s death. Because if I hadn’t been there, it would have been him chasing down Hassan, and Danny would have been in the sights of his brother, the gunman. So I make a face. “I just…”
“Can’t live with yourself if you don’t try. I get it…I’ve done it.” His face grows hard. “Don’t do it again. I promise, there are some consequences you can’t live with.”
I want to ask, but don’t. Still, I apparently can’t keep my youthful mouth shut. “We make changes to our timeline all the time—we just don’t know what the outcome would have been. But imagine being able to save lives, to never let someone suffer—”
“You don’t know what havoc you’re setting in motion. A thousand tiny changes—all that carry their own ripples. It never ends…” Booker’s mouth tightens. “Don’t make me regret giving you the watch. I might not give it to you after all.”
I can’t think past the time conundrum that he already did give it to me so…okay, let’s agree that he could go back and rewrite time, too, so maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut. “I won’t,” I say, my words true.
“Try and stay out of trouble, Stone.”
The door opens and Burke walks out. “I got the report from the alarm company. Their alibi checks out.”
“Jeff and Karen didn’t do it,” I say, my hands in my pockets. “And Swenson has an alibi.”
“Yeah,” Burke nods, again frowning. “Did I mention that?”
“Probably.”
Booker is looking at me, and I’ve had enough scrutiny for today.
I’m going to pick up some ice cream and go to a party, and somehow, try and stay out of trouble.
17
Eve didn’t expect Rembrandt to show up, despite his words last night. If the altercation with her father was as bad as Rembrandt looked, the man should probably steer clear of Danny Mulligan for a while. A decade, maybe.
Still, the absence of Rem’s black Camaro in the string of cars parked along the road in front of their Minnetonka home had her wondering why she’d spent all morning in her office, digging into the membership roles of Sigma Chi.
Oh, of course she knew. It was the look Rem gave her as he walked out the door, the words, uttered as if torn from someplace desperate inside. They shook her, really. If I lose you, I lose everything.
Talk about intense. Perhaps he meant it in a professional, she-was-working-on-his-case kind of way.
Probably.
The words drove her out of bed, however, and to the office to hound the Sigma Chi offices for the list of loyal life members from the three chapters in Minnesota. Then she spent the morning accessing the DMV records and putting faces to names in the picture from last year’s event.
Tracking down the owner of the cufflinks.
She’d finally shoved the list into her pocket, glanced at the clock and high-tailed it to her parents’ party.
Now, she walked up the driveway. Music blared from the back yard, Usher singing You Make Me Wanna…Clearly Asher, in charge of the boom box.
She headed around the house. The sky over the lake was a pristine blue with not a hint of last night’s clouds, the lake alive with boaters and water skiers.
At the Mulligan dock, Samson was just pulling up in their ski boat, her older brother Lucas, home from Chicago for the weekend sitting copilot, a couple girls she didn’t recognize sitting in the open bow.
The scent of the freshly cut grass, climbing roses and thick hosta that lined the walk suggested her mother had put her father to work. She spotted a few neighbors sitting in lawn chairs drinking cold brews.
Her father stood at the smoking grill, armed with a metal spatula and a baseball cap.
He didn’t look like he’d run down a killer last night. But that was her father—he didn’t bring his work home. Mom’s rules.
