Chapter Nineteen

Tuesday, December 18th

“It is time,” Addy whispered in my ear.

Opening my eyes, I blinked several times in the dark quiet.

Time for what? School?

I turned my head, searching my bedroom for her. My door was open a crack. Light from the hallway spilled inside, brightening the room, thick shadows in the corners the only hiding spots for boogeymen.

I didn’t see Addy. Unless she was hiding in my closet, some other female had whispered in my ear. But who? Maybe I’d dreamed it. Maybe I was dreaming this, too. I pinched my arm. Nope, awake.

I sat up, listening for the creak of a floorboard on the other side of the door, the swishing of a slipper or bare foot on hardwood, or any other clue that might explain that voice. I could hear Harvey’s snores rumbling up the stairs, but all else was silent.

Next to me, Doc slept quietly. His breathing was slow and steady. I debated on waking him, but we’d both been exhausted last night, so I hesitated.

Natalie had left shortly after Cooper, refusing to talk to me about that kiss. After putting the kids to bed for the night, I came back down to find that Aunt Zoe had sent Reid on his way. I joined Doc and my aunt on the couch, while Harvey kicked back in the recliner. White Christmas filled the television screen, a favorite of mine since childhood. Harvey fell asleep halfway through the film, and Aunt Zoe went to bed before the final song, leaving Doc and me to watch the end credits.

After she left, I had spread out on the couch, my cheek pillowed on Doc’s lap. The local news crew made promises about more snowy weather coming our way, just what we didn’t need. Doc trailed his fingers down my arm while we watched, his caresses making my eyelids heavy. Later, he’d helped me up the stairs, lowered me into bed, and crawled in next to me. I couldn’t remember anything after that.

It is time.

Easing out of bed, I grabbed my robe and slippers. A glance Doc’s way found him still sleeping. I stole out of the room into the hallway, pausing to slide into my slippers and tie on my robe before tiptoeing to Addy’s room. Inside, I found her curled up under the covers. She moaned and shifted when I straightened her comforter, settling back to sleep as I watched.

It definitely hadn’t been my daughter whispering in my ear.

I checked on Layne and Aunt Zoe next. Both were snoozing away, making me envious. My bed called to me, but I hesitated in the hallway, chewing on my lower lip. That voice had sounded so real. Could it have been my imagination? Some voice in my head screwing with me?

Truth be told, I’d rather it have been my imagination than a ghost … or worse.

I started toward my bedroom. Several steps from my door, I froze.

What was that?

I moved to the top of the stairs, listening.

In between Harvey’s snores, I heard recurring notes. They were faint but steady. I edged down the stairs. Christmas lights gave the living room a warm, blinking glow. My bodyguard slept like a snoring baby. I grabbed another blanket from the back of the couch and covered him to help ward off the early morning chill.

The tree lights hypnotized me, spurring memories of Christmases gone by when I’d played Santa for the kids. How many times had I sat alone late on Christmas Eve, eating the cookies they’d left on a plate for Ol’ Saint Nick? Or wished I had someone to snuggle up to in the morning while watching my kids tear open their gifts? This year would be different. This year, I had Doc … and Susan. Oh, nuts. I crossed my fingers that Christmas evening at my parents didn’t end in disaster.

The rhythmic notes grew louder, intruding on my holiday reverie.

Chimes. Something was chiming.

I looked toward the dining room. The clock in there was ticking, but not chiming.

Damn. There was only one other explanation.

I headed for the kitchen, opening the basement door. I stood at the top of the stairs, listening. The chiming was loud enough now to block out Harvey’s snores. I hit the light switch and stepped carefully down the stairs. My slippers were almost as worthless on the smooth concrete steps as my boots had been on snow.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead down in what I liked to think of as Layne’s mad scientist lab. An old dresser filled with his lab equipment sat in the opposite corner from Elvis’s pen. A row of crates lined the far wall, butting up against one of Aunt Zoe’s old workbenches.

Elvis clucked at me when I passed her cage, not bothering to climb out of her roost to greet me.

I crept over to the two clocks from Mr. Black that lay on the old workbench. I hadn’t bothered hanging them up, since they functioned on their own with or without batteries, or winding for that matter. The newest one depicting the Wild Hunt was as silent and unmoving as the day Mr. Black had given it to me. The other clock—the one I’d received weeks ago that had a large hellhound-like beast with a long snout and pointy ears with opened jaws and claws reaching toward the cuckoo door—was chiming repeatedly, but not cuckooing.

Why was it chiming? A couple of weeks ago, it had cuckooed and then started up, keeping time until this last weekend when Layne had noticed it’d stopped. Was chiming the same type of alert as cuckooing?

I leaned closer, trying to open the little door where the cuckoo bird hid. The wood wouldn’t budge, reminding me of the closet door in Jerry’s office. I needed a paper clip to pop it open. Better yet, Harvey’s handy screwdriver.

Running my fingers over the beast’s snout, I marveled at the craftsmanship. Who was the clockmaker? Dominick had refused to tell me when I’d asked, recently. Was it someone in town? In the Black Hills? There was so much I didn’t understand about this clock business. Hell, about all of this Timekeeper stuff.

Maybe the clock was chiming because I’d broken it somehow when I’d moved the arms, back before I realized messing with time was bad juju. Or had the kids fiddled with it? I’d laid down the law about touching these clocks, but my kids were curious like so many others, dangerously so at times.

“Hi,” a familiar voice said behind me.

I whirled, my hand on my chest. Addy stood next to Elvis’s cage, her hair mussed, her face puffy with sleep. She clutched a stuffed-animal version of Elvis that my mom had given her.

“Hey, baby,” I said, stepping sideways to block the chiming clock from her view.

She padded closer, her gaze on the workbench behind me. “What’s going on down here?”

“Nothing. I was just … uh … checking on Elvis.”

She stopped a couple of feet away from me. “Those clocks creep me out,” she whispered.

“Me, too. You want some breakfast?” I tried to distract her, adding a dose of sugar to sweeten the deal. “I can make you some French toast with powdered sugar on it.”

She moved closer, standing next to me. “How come these clocks hardly ever work? Are they broken?”

“They’re antiques. They kind of run on their own time.”

She put her stuffed chicken on the workbench next to the clock that was chiming. “I wonder what is hiding behind the cuckoo doors.”

“Just a little bird, like any other clock.” I wasn’t sure this was true of the newest clock, because it hadn’t woken up since Mr. Black handed it off to me. “Addy, you know not to touch these clocks, right?”

She didn’t answer me. My chest tightened. Something was off with my daughter. For one thing, she wouldn’t meet my eyes. For another, she hadn’t mentioned the constant chiming. “Sweetheart, do you hear any noises coming from these clocks?”

Elvis released a loud series of squawks that drowned out her answer, if she gave one. I glowered at the chicken, watching her fluttering about the cage, banging against the wire repeatedly. Chicken feathers floated around her. What was wrong with that dang bird? “Elvis, stop!”

When I turned back, Addy was pulling open the cuckoo door that had been stuck moments before.

I gasped. “Addy, no!” I reached for her, but my arm went right through her, like she was a ghost.

What the hell?

I tried again. The result was the same.

“Oh, look,” Addy whispered. “It’s a little girl.”

She was right. Instead of a cuckoo bird that I’d witnessed popping out of the clock before, a little blond girl crouched behind the door. I stepped closer, noticing her tiny hands were painted red, along with the neckline of her shirt. Was that supposed to be blood? Was she bitten in the neck by the beast? I needed a brighter light to see for sure.

Addy reached toward the little wooden girl. The air between Addy’s finger and the girl-cuckoo seemed to ripple. A tendril of black smoke snaked out from the clock, wrapping around Addy’s finger.

In the shadowed alcove behind the wooden girl, something moved.

“Addy, get back!” I tried to grab her wrist to no avail. Panic welled in my throat. The chiming started to clang so loud it rattled my teeth.

The little girl popped out from the clock, her mouth forming a teeny black O. A high-pitched scream blasted up at us.

“Addy!” I shrieked, taking a step back in surprise. I tripped over my own feet, falling on my ass on the hard cobblestone floor. Pain throbbed in my hip as tears streamed down my face. “Addy, no,” I cried again, reaching for her.

“Mom!” Layne yelled in my ear. “Stop it!”

A hush of silence filled my head.

I blinked at my son, whose face now filled my vision. His blond eyebrows were pinched together.

“Layne?” I lifted my hand toward his face, touching his cheek. “You’re real.”

“Of course I’m real.” He covered my hand with his.

I pulled him into my lap, squeezing him hard, covering his face with kisses. He smelled like his bed, his skin still warm from it.

“Mom! Come on! Stop already.” He pushed out of my lap, resting on his knees beside me. “What are you doing down here?”

I looked beyond him at the workbench with the clocks. A clucking sound drew my gaze to the other side of the room. Elvis watched me from her cage, her head tilting one way and then the other.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Help me up.”

He pulled at my arm, tugging me to my feet. I walked over to the clocks, my hip still throbbing.

“Look at that.” Layne joined me at the workbench. “That wolf one is ticking again.”

The clock with the snarling beast was ticking away, not a chime to be heard, or a cuckoo for that matter.

“But the time’s wrong,” he continued. “We need to fix—” He reached toward the clock.

“No!” I snagged his arm, pulling him back. “No touching!”

“I was just—” he started.

“I mean it, Layne. These clocks are off limits. Look with your eyes, not your fingers.”

Heavy footfalls sounded overhead in the kitchen. Doc took the steps two at a time. “Violet.” He was slightly winded when he stood next to us at the workbench. His hair reminded me of Cooper’s shark fins. “What’s going on?”

His shirt was missing. The bruises on his ribs were beginning to fade, his skin colored a dull bluish green now instead of vivid purple and black. He’d managed to pull his jeans on before coming downstairs, although they were zipped only, not buttoned.

Layne gaped at Doc’s side. “It looks like you were hit with a battering ram.”

That was one way to describe what happened.

“Addy woke me,” Doc said, rubbing his eyes. “She told me you were down here screaming. Are you okay?”

Was I really screaming? I wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. “I think so.”

“What happened?”

I looked around, trying to piece it all together. “I’m not sure.”

“Mom was down here sitting on the floor yelling at Addy,” Layne explained, eyeing the clocks.

Just then Addy came down the stairs, making a beeline to her true love. “Poor, poor Elvis. Did Mom scare you?”

Screw the chicken, I scared myself.

I covered my mouth with a trembling hand, watching my daughter pull the chicken from its cage and stroke its feathers. My gaze returned to Doc’s. “Maybe I was sleepwalking.”

His gaze dipped to my toes. “You’re wearing your robe and slippers.”

“Yeah.” I glanced down. The belt on my robe was even tied. “I remember putting them on, too. Is that normal for a sleepwalker?”

“Have you ever done something like this before?”

I shook my head. “Not that I know of.”

“Look, Doc,” Layne said. “This wolf clock is ticking again.”

The lines in Doc’s brow deepened. “It sure is.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Almost six.”

“Layne,” I said, snapping back to mom-mode. “Go upstairs and start getting ready for school.”

“Ah, Mom. It’s too early.”

“Do as I say, please.” I glanced over at my chicken-lover. “You, too, Addy. Get dressed and I’ll make you both some French toast.”

“Fine,” Layne snapped, stomping up the stairs.

Addy put Elvis back in her cage. “No offense, Mom.” She paused on her way up the stairs. “But I’d rather have Doc make us French toast. You can pour our orange juice, though.”

How generous of her. I narrowed my eyes. “Go, Adelynn Renee.”

When the kids were out of earshot, I turned to Doc. “I heard a clock chiming,” I said in a lowered voice in case anyone was eavesdropping from the top of the stairs. “That’s what brought me down here.”

“Another nightmare?”

“No. I don’t have nightmares when you’re near me.”

He crossed his arms. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

I leaned against the workbench. “Somebody whispered in my ear, waking me up.”

“Whispered what?”

“The words, ‘It is time.’ I thought it was Addy at first, because the voice sounded female. I checked on her, but she was asleep in her bed. Then I visited Layne and Aunt Zoe. I even came downstairs and peeked at Harvey. Everyone was sleeping, including you. That’s when I heard the chiming and followed it down here.”

“Did it feel like you were awake at that time or were things hazy?”

It was all very clear. “I’m pretty sure I was awake.”

“What happened after you came down here? What spurred your screaming?”

“I was looking at this clock with the wolf-like beast on it.” I stared at the ticking clock, replaying the scene in my head. “It was chiming non-stop. I tried to open the cuckoo door at the top, but it wouldn’t budge.” Out of curiosity, I pulled on the door again. It still wouldn’t open. That didn’t seem normal, but then what did these days?

“I heard Addy’s voice behind me,” I continued. “She started talking to me, and then …” I trailed off.

“And then what?”

I held up my index finger. “There was something off about Addy. She didn’t look at me or answer my questions. Then, when I tried to touch her, my arms went right through her like I was a ghost.”

One of Doc’s eyebrows lifted. “Or she was.”

“How can that be, though? If I were dreaming, it would make sense. But everything seemed so real—sights, sounds, smells. Things were too solid feeling not to be.”

He rubbed his jaw. “I’ll need to think about this more after I’ve had some coffee. What made you scream?”

“Addy opened the cuckoo door on the one that’s ticking. Something about her touching it frightened me. I had the notion that her making physical contact with it put her at risk. Inside the door, instead of a cuckoo bird, there was a little blond girl with blood on her hands and around her neck. I thought she’d been bitten by the beast. Addy reached out to touch the girl. I tried to stop her, but she wasn’t listening and I couldn’t grab her. When her finger brushed over the little girl, a black wisp of smoke came out and wrapped around her finger. Then the girl popped out of the door, shrieking at us instead of cuckooing.”

Concern lined his face. “So you screamed back.”

My cheeks warmed. “Yeah, something like that. Then I stumbled backward, tripped, and that’s when Layne came into the picture.”

Doc moved next to me, his focus on the clock. “And now it’s ticking again.”

“What do you think, Mr. Oracle? What do you see that I can’t?”

He put his arm around my shoulder. “You’re a Timekeeper.”

“That’s not very enlightened ‘seeing’ on your part.”

“This experience with the clocks is new for you. Maybe the voice you heard comes with being a Timekeeper.”

“But why was Addy pulled into it?”

“I don’t know. It could be as simple as you being worried about her messing with the clocks when she’s down here taking care of Elvis.”

I had repeatedly warned her and Layne not to touch them.

“It also could have been a premonition,” Doc added.

“Like a vision of something that is going to happen in the future.”

“Or a warning.”

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. “Well, if that’s the case, I know how to keep this sort of thing from happening for real.”

“How?”

Blinking the last of the sleep from my eyes, I grimaced at the two time bombs. “I’m moving these clocks out of here today.”

“Moving them to where? Zoe’s workshop?”

“No. That’s too accessible for my kids. I’m taking them to work.”

“Calamity Jane’s?”

“Actually, the apartment above my office.”

“You’re going to delegate timekeeping to Cornelius?”

“More like trust him to watch over the clocks and keep me updated on their status.”

“What makes you think he’ll be willing to be your timekeeping lackey?”

“He loves eccentric, haunted stuff. These clocks are right up his spook-filled alley.”

“But you need to keep an eye on them. You’re the Timekeeper.”

“So far, this aspect of my job includes waiting for a clock to start ticking or stop ticking. Until Mr. Black teaches me some of the finer details of timekeeping, Cornelius can handle clock watching. It’s along the same lines as ghost spying with the fancy cameras and microphones he’s planted throughout Calamity Jane’s.”

Doc pulled me closer, his chest warm as he hugged away my chills. “I’m not sure this is what Ms. Wolff intended when she handed off the baton.”

I smirked up at him. “Yeah, well, Ms. Wolff didn’t have curious children who like to explore with their fingers.”

“You do see the bigger problem going on here, don’t you?” His gaze was on the clocks.

“Bigger than my kids getting caught up in some kind of trouble with magic clocks?”

“Yes.” He turned me around, pointing at the clock depicting the Wild Hunt. “This one isn’t ticking when you’d think it should be after what we saw standing in the road on our way out of Slagton yesterday.”

Which meant that the leader of the hunt wasn’t even here yet. How pissed would the hunter be after finding out I’d executed so many of the pack?

Doc aimed his finger in the direction of the other clock. “And this one is ticking, which means you have someone to worry about in addition to the rowdy crew in Slagton, the Nachzehrer, and the lidérc.”

I laced my fingers through his, careful not to bump his bandaged knuckles. “Santa’s naughty list is getting long.”

“Yeah. I have a feeling we’re going to have to do something about that sooner rather than later.” He kissed my temple and then led me toward the stairs. “Tell you what, Killer. While you get ready for work, I’ll box up the clocks and make breakfast.”

Upstairs in the kitchen, Harvey was pouring himself a cup of coffee. I left Doc to explain this morning’s scream-queen festivities while I headed for the shower.

Last night, Jerry had left a message that he wanted to meet with all of us employees at Bighorn Billy’s this morning for another emergency team huddle. I hoped it had something to do with determining who was covering the office over the holidays and not a new marketing idea that involved me, more makeup, and another idiotic pose.

According to my cell phone, I had an hour and a half before my meeting. I’d need to hustle if I wanted to take a side trip to drop off the clocks with Cornelius first.

After a speedy shower, I pulled my hair back in a chignon, jamming a few of Aunt Zoe’s charm-decorated hair combs in the snarl of wet curls to corral some of the loose ends. The fancy combs reminded me that I needed to catch her alone and find out if something happened with Reid after the Christmas party. Nosy Parker wanted to know the juicy details.

The kids were chattering away with Aunt Zoe and Doc when I returned to the kitchen. Their plates were half-empty.

“Where’s Harvey?” I asked, grabbing a mug. I poured a cup of black coffee, took a sip to check the temperature, and then gulped half of it down. I needed a solid kick-start after this morning’s sideshow.

“He went home to shower and trim his beard,” Aunt Zoe said.

“Does he have a date today with a hot babe?”

“Doesn’t he always?” Doc stood by the empty griddle, munching on a piece of French toast. “You want me to fix you up a plate?” He indicated toward the serving dish on the table.

I shook my head. “Jerry wants us to meet at Bighorn Billy’s this morning.” I moved over next to him. “Thank you for taking the kids to school today.”

“Doc’s taking us to school and picking us up?” Addy asked.

Layne cleared his throat, glaring at his sister.

What? Doc getting the kids after school was news to me. “You don’t have to pick them up,” I said. “I can do that.”

“The kids and I have plans.”

“We’re going to the Rec Center,” Addy blurted out.

Layne threw his napkin at her. “Way to blab our secret, big mouth.”

I started to reprimand him, but Aunt Zoe beat me to it.

“Layne,” Aunt Zoe chastised. “You know how I feel about you two throwing things at each other, especially at the table.”

“Sorry,” he said. When she pointed at Addy, he apologized to his sister, ending with, “But it’s supposed to be a secret, remember?”

She pinched her lips together, staring down at her plate.

I turned to Doc. “All right, spill. What are you guys doing at the Rec Center today?”

“It’s none of your business,” Aunt Zoe sang.

I harrumphed at her, and then took another swallow of coffee.

Doc tugged on one of my curls that had escaped the chignon and combs. “If you want to know what we’re doing, you should join us there this afternoon.”

“Really?” He was finally going to let me be a part of their secret Rec Center meetings?

“Are we sure we want her there?” Layne interjected. He didn’t sound too thrilled about it, which spurred me to glare in his direction.

“I believe the time has come,” Doc answered.

It is time, I heard in my head. According to the voice that had whispered sweet nothings in my ear this morning, Doc was right.

“Do I need to bring my bathing suit?” I said those last two words with a curled upper lip. I didn’t relish squeezing into my tankini and waltzing around in public. Public pools were breeding grounds for large-scale outbreaks of embarrassment in my past.

“No suit. Just a T-shirt and some yoga pants will do.”

I finished my coffee, setting the mug in the sink. My smile spilled out before I could stifle it and play it cool in front of Doc. I couldn’t help it. Going to the Rec Center felt like something a family would do, and for once it was my family, not some other happy little mother-father-kids group that I’d be watching while green with envy. “Sweet! It’s a date.”

Layne groaned. “It’s not a date, Mom. That means you and Doc will get mushy and kissy again. A boy can only see so much of that before it melts his brain.”

“Coop would agree with him,” Doc said, chuckling.

“Well, I think it’s neat that Doc likes to kiss Mom,” Addy piped up.

“Why’s that?” Aunt Zoe asked.

“She went a long, loooong time with no boys wanting to kiss her. I was starting to think we’d have to find her a frog to kiss.”

My face heated. “You make me sound like a leper, child.”

“Leopards are fast.”

Layne rolled his eyes. “She said ‘leper,’ not ‘leopard,’ you bozo.”

“Layne, knock off the name calling.” I kissed his head, then moved to his sister and did the same. “Addy, don’t forget to turn in your library book today or you’ll have to pay the fine with your allowance.”

Aunt Zoe gave me an “ahem,” and tapped on her cheek. I obliged with a quick kiss. “Don’t shoot any fire captains today,” I ordered.

“I give no guarantees.” She squeezed my hand. “Be careful out there, baby girl.”

“Why? What’s going to happen?”

“Knowing you, probably something that will require tequila to fix.”

Doc walked me to the door. “The clocks are in your back seat. Do you want my help dropping them off?”

“No. I can do the rest. Thanks for taking the kids to school today. Are you serious about me joining you three at the Rec Center?” I opened the hall closet, fingering through the coats, searching for a replacement for my red pea coat. “I don’t want to impose on whatever you guys are doing.”

“I am serious, and you’re not imposing. We can show you a few things that might help.”

“Help with what?” I pulled out a knee-length, blue wool trench coat with a matching belt that my mom had bought me years ago for Christmas.

“You’ll see.”

I pulled on the coat. “Will you bring my T-shirt, sports bra, and yoga pants for me?”

“Only if I’m allowed to fish in your underwear drawer while I’m at it,” he said with a glint in his eye.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Mr. Nyce, you can frolic in my underwear anytime you want.” I made a face at the image that popped in my head. “Wait. I think that came out wrong.”

He laughed.

“What I mean is—”

His kiss stopped the rest of my words, warming me clear to my toes. He tasted sweet, like maple syrup with a side of happily-ever-after. I wanted the tingling sensation he was stirring deep inside of me to go on and on until I keeled over and joined Prudence in the wispy world, but reality prevailed, butting its ugly head into our business.

“You have to go,” he said, his lips sliding to my ear, searing a path across my skin.

“Yeah,” I breathed in his scent, hungry for more of his touches.

He stepped back and tightened my belt. “Stop by my office today if you have a chance.” He opened the door for me.

I licked my lips. They felt swollen, along with my other throbbing parts that wanted Doc to finish what he’d started. “Okay. Why?”

Did it have to do with Cornelius and his ghost monitors?

He ran his finger down my sleeve. “I have an idea about you, this coat, your boots, and something from your underwear drawer.”

“Oh! Tell me more.”

“I’d rather show you, vixen.”

Another lip-tingling kiss later, I was on my way to hand off the troublesome clocks.