Somewhere in Time Read online

  Somewhere in Time

  The Fine Art of Deception Series, Book 2

  Alyssa Richards

  Published by Dragonfly Books

  Copyright 2015 by Alyssa Richards

  Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers, allowing us to continue to publish quality books and protecting your good karma. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].

  Library of Congress Control Number 2015917429

  Ebook ISBN-13 978-0-9792265-6-4

  Editing done by Book Alchemy, LLC

  Proofreading provided by 221bBakerSt.net

  Cover Design by: Danijela Mijailovic

  Formatted by the E-book Formatting Fairies

  Publisher’s note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Reviews for The Fine Art of Deception, Undoing Time

  "Seems as though this is Alyssa’s debut book – and what a fantastic start.I’d happily read anything Alyssa writes next.” —Jeannie Zelos Book Reviews

  “…undoubtedly Alyssa Richards has just become one of my new favourite authors for this year.” —Living in Our Own Story Blog

  “This is well written with complex characters who reveal more of themselves as the story progresses. It is a great mystery with paranormal elements that make it enthrallingly different and captivating.”–Splashes into Books

  “I felt like I was standing right in the middle of a Movie Set of something between Pierce Brosnan’s “The Thomas Crown Affair” or Sean Connery’s “Entrapment”. I was sucked into the story from the beginning and I could not stop reading. It was such an interesting mix between the paranormal – romance and crime elements that kept me reading and wondering what might happen next.”–Jeri’s Book Attic

  “An intriguing read that kept my interest until the last page. Very enjoyable and definitely recommended.”–Archaeolibrarian, I dig good books!

  “This book was loaded with mystery and suspense. The plot was well executed and kept me on the edge of my seat. The sizzling passionate scenes between Addie and Blake were red hot.” –Smut Book Junkie Book Reviews

  “The plot is unique in a way that you will keep thinking of its awesomeness for a long time after finishing this book. There was so much positives in the book, that kept me awake with my Kindle at night, in spite of my recently sleep deprived life. This book has exceeded my expectations in every way. You should definitely read it, if romance, suspense or paranormal genre suits you.”– Books are Magic

  “This book really got me interested and kept pulling me in”–BBs Book Reviews

  “I was very drawn to the characters. Richards did an excellent job weaving you into their world whether it was the good guy or the bad guy you just wanted to know what they were thinking, doing and their next move. I definitely recommend.”–The Reading Pile

  Chapter 1

  Cloaked only in Blake’s button-down dress shirt, I crept barefoot through the darkened salon of his New York penthouse apartment. His scent laid heavily on his collar and I brought it to my nose, breathed it in deeply as if the aura of him could protect me when he was away.

  I stopped at the floor-to-ceiling windows where the cold, winter breeze stealthily blew the long, white curtains into the room. Searching the twinkling cityscape, just as I’d done every night for the last twenty years, I wondered where my father and grandfather might be. Their presence or the trails of their energy couldn’t be sensed anywhere. Though they were out there. Somewhere. And my heart ached from their absence.

  Were they were warm and being fed well? Were they in good health? Were they were hurting? They appeared well when I'd seen them just a few months ago, but I didn’t know how much of that vision I could trust. It had been so unusual.

  The surrounding walls of my fortress inched into the frame of my view of the city. Along with it crept the concern that being safely tucked away and being a prisoner were too close to the same thing.

  Blake stirred in the bedroom.

  Blake Greenwood. My protector, my defender, the love of at least two of my lifetimes. In our last life together we were Jack and Sarah, star-crossed lovers from the 1920s. In this life our names were different, but we were the same souls, in love with one another even before we met, happiest when we were together. Nothing and no one could get to me when he was near. I wasn’t sure if it was just his intent or some energetic forcefield, the effect of his endless love for me. I was pretty sure I could lie naked in the middle of Central Park at midnight and no one would bother me if Blake were nearby.

  Strangely, this all-encompassing love didn’t bring me peace or confidence. Because when the love of my life finally appeared the flip side of that new reality became crystal clear. I knew that if I ever lost him, that loss would be insurmountable. And that insight left me on the ridge of a double-sided coin, stuck between fear and gratefulness. I could easily pitch to either side.

  Blake snuck behind me, gently drew me to him, and that was all it took. I was surrounded by love. Total protection. If only time could stand still. “Going somewhere?” Tired-eyed and pillow-haired, Blake’s voice was thick with sleep.

  “Definitely not.” I spun in his embrace and snuggled against him. Typically, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest was the steady cadence that comforted me and set my nighttime world to right. Though not tonight. Not when worries played with one another in my head like caffeinated children on the playground.

  Soft and slow, he kissed the top of my head, “Can’t sleep?”

  “I gave up. I was on my way to the kitchen to see if you had an espresso machine.”

  Blake leaned back and gave a strong “don’t be ridiculous” smirk. “Wouldn’t be home without one.”

  He led me by the hand to the small kitchen where broad, cream-colored cabinets and dark wooden floors greeted me with surprising warmth. Most of the New York penthouses I’d visited were chilly with sophistication and excess, but this room breathed comfort. There was also a shielding sensation I noticed when we first stepped inside the apartment late last night, and I knew I was safe here. At least for the moment. The outside world rang with chaos, but in this home, there was peace.

  With only Blake in residence, the kitchen wasn’t quite the center of his home as it was with most abodes, the steady pulse of its heart beat beyond the far wall. Whatever room that was, that was where Blake had spent most of his time, dreaming, thinking, living.

  “I miss Paris,” I sighed. I sipped the hot espresso and it heated me from the inside out. Memories of endless museums by day, outdoor cafes for lunch, and remarkable dinners laced with jazz that lingered until wee morning hours danced between us. With only a visit, Paris seeped into your soul. “And I miss our quiet life in the country, too.”

  Blake leaned against the counter in all of his half-naked glory and savored his own cup of espresso. “Then we’ll go back,” he said with a steady nod. “Just as soon as Otto’s trial is over and he’s in prison where he belongs. We’ll stay as long as you like. Or maybe we’ll move there.” He kissed my neck and the corners of my mouth rose. “We just need to get through these next few days, then we’re on our way.”

  My smile slid into a grimace and I tried to hide the fact that my heart had taken a shot of adrenaline. I didn’t want to think about Otto Albrecht’s art forgery and theft trial. Or testifying in it.

  “
You’ll do fine,” Blake said and rubbed my arms.

  “I’m so nervous,” I said.

  “William just wants you to tell the jury what you saw in the vault—that there were two of every painting, a forgery and an original. Obviously you don’t need to mention that you used your gifts to figure out which was which.”

  “Yeah, I’ll leave that out,” I said and paced the small kitchen. I didn’t even know why William needed me. My testimony on its own didn’t amount to much. He had several of Otto’s former clients testifying that they turned their priceless paintings over to his firm to be restored or appraised, and then they got a forgery in return. He also had FBI testimony that they found the originals in his vaults. And he had Blake’s testimony of everything he discovered when he was undercover. In order, those were the most important witnesses in his case.

  Blake exhaled hard and scratched the fresh, dark stubble along the lower half of his face. He and I knew that since William didn’t get Otto on the murder of Frank, one of Otto’s former underworld associates, nor the Isabella Stewart Gardner art theft he should have been put away on, that he wasn’t going to take any chances. He’d have the neighborhood cat testify if he thought it would help put Otto in jail.

  Otto’s murder victim entered the room and the swinging door moved a little. “I’ll testify,” Frank growled and his icy presence appeared behind me. He shook his head and the brown, side-swept bangs moved a fraction from where they’d hung near his eyes. At this early hour he still reeked of some brown liquor.

  Blake and I frowned at him for the uninvited guest that he was, and I quickly crossed the room and stood next to Blake. The chill from Frank’s murderous soul unnerved me.

  “Too little too late, Frank. Dead people can’t help much at all.” Blake pushed off the counter. “Get out.”

  Frank’s cold, dead eyes stayed glued to me while he drifted through the wall and out of the room.

  Blake’s phone rattled on the counter and I jumped. “William,” Blake said after he read the text. “He wants me in earlier to give us more time to go over my testimony.”

  “Do whatever you have to do to put this man away. I want us to get on with our life together.” I glanced at the wall where Frank had disappeared to make sure he was really gone.

  “My plan exactly.” Blake’s bravery filled the room and I breathed in the scent of it. It felt good to be strong in the face of a monster like Otto.

  “It’s a big day,” I said.

  “Maybe not the biggest.” He reached out and skimmed the back of his fingers against my cheek. “Or the most important. That would be the day I finally found you.” He held the side of my face in his palm and I laid a kiss in the center of it. “Granted, it’s up there. I’d do anything to keep you and my mother safe,” he said. “Family is everything.”

  “That it is.” My thoughts drifted to the missing patriarchs of my family.

  “One more?”

  “At least.”

  He took my demitasse cup, placed it under the spout, and pressed the button on the silver machine. It gurgled, steamed, and brewed. He made my espresso on most mornings now. One of our relatively new traditions that gave me comfort.

  “There’s a marshal posted outside if you need anything while I’m at the courthouse.” Blake opened his hand in front of me, a quiet gesture of support. I placed my hand in his and he kissed it gently. “Another one will pick me up to take me to the courthouse, and I’ll call as soon as we have a break.”

  Blake’s eyes were steeled with focus and readiness to face today’s battle, to put away Otto—his own father—who had hunted him and his mother for most of their lives. Not that Otto knew that Blake was his son. Blake had kept that carefully hidden from just about everyone.

  However, my heart rode the currents of the wind. It howled and whipped in waves along the rooftop patio. I hugged him, grateful to rely on his strength and firmness, and yet frightened that there didn’t seem to be enough of anything to protect him or what we shared.

  “You have to have faith that this is going to work out,” he said, then kissed the top of my head. “If you spend all your time worrying, there’ll be no space left in there for me.” His thumb caressed the thin skin that covered my heart.

  His soft lips met mine when he kissed me, heart and soul. And true to my early morning wish, time stood still.

  “You’re okay?” he asked after we parted.

  I gave him a confident smile and a thumbs up sign. Our new life was finally about to begin.

  Chapter 2

  “Just drive around the block and try again,” Blake said and noted the clipped edge on his words. His eyes narrowed when he searched the back and side windows, for threats. He’d waited a near lifetime to put his father in prison for making his and Carolena’s life a living hell. After today he, his mother, and Addie would be free to live the lives of their choosing. It couldn’t come soon enough. What he wanted now was the shortest distance possible between him and the courthouse. Uncharacteristically, he was not in the mood for risks.

  Thomas stopped the black town car one half block from the courthouse. “There’s too much traffic. I don’t think I’ll get any closer,” he said. “I can drive around again if you want.”

  U.S. Marshal Roxy Dalton held her phone to her ear. Her shoulder-length, blond ringlets were a mismatch to her job. “No, we’ll get out here.” Her light blue eyes combed the fairly sparse crowd and hunted for anything unusual. “I’ll walk you in,” she said to Blake.

  Blake eyed the gun at her waist when she wrestled her jacket over her shoulders. Then he texted William: on my way in. He stepped out of the car then leaned in to speak to Thomas. “I’ll text you when we’re finished. Don’t go far. I don’t want to leave Addie alone for too long.”

  “I’ll just park on the street,” Thomas said. “I saw a couple of spots a block or two back.”

  Blake looked north of the courthouse and saw two parking spaces ahead. He turned to tell Thomas but he had driven off.

  “Straight to the front door,” Roxy said and placed a hand on Blake’s back.

  Blake buttoned his long, black wool coat, then stuck his fists into his pockets and braced against the New York winter. He knew it was as much hate as it was the need to protect his family and loved ones that had driven him to this moment. And he was okay with that price, as long as Otto ended up in jail. All they had to do was get inside and let justice take its course.

  Blake noticed everyone who passed by them, including the two men who quietly exited their car and caught up to him and Roxy. They appeared to be lawyers or businessmen.

  Except that the man with blond curls that peeked out from the edges of his black hat changed directions too quickly. He pushed close to Roxy and jabbed a small needle into the back of her neck. He held it there, camouflaged by his hand. To passersby, he resembled someone who had wrapped his arm around an old friend. Barring Roxy’s wide-eyed look of horror.

  The darker-haired man with a triangle protuberance of beard beneath his bottom lip sidled up to Blake. His smile of perfectly aligned, too-white teeth, belied the gun he jabbed between Blake’s ribs. This wasn’t the first time Blake had felt the barrel of a gun in his side and he slowed his gait. Roxy struggled to get to her gun, but the man’s grip was tight and she couldn’t reach it.

  “Right now you can survive the dose I’ve given you,” the blond man said with a grin. “Make my job difficult, I’ll give you the rest and you’ll be dead in about three minutes.”

  “No, please!” Roxy slurred her words. “Tell me what you want. I have connections… I could help you.”

  “I’m not interested in your help.” The dark-haired man guided Blake to the alleyway next to the courthouse. The gun pressed harder into Blake’s ribs and panic swept through him, along with thoughts of Addie and her safety.

  Nothing can happen to her.

  The alley was empty this time of year. In warmer weather courthouse employees traipsed up and down the narrow pa
thway as a shortcut to lunch spots. In the icy winter of New York no one was making any unnecessary trips on foot. And no one would see what was about to happen to them.

  Blake hoped that Roxy wouldn’t pick up on what he was about to do. Or at least that she wouldn’t remember. He inherited one good thing from Otto, a gift that had gotten him out of more than a few tight spots. He had the ability to push his intention onto others, to make them feel what he wanted them to. As a result he could often make them do what he wanted them to.

  “You want to put that gun down.” Blake pushed the dark-haired man energetically when they rounded the trees on the side of the building.

  The man lowered the gun a couple of inches, then shook his head as if he tried to ward off the effects of a drug.

  “What are you doing?” the blond man asked his partner.

  The dark-haired man raised the gun again.

  “Put the gun down,” Blake said. He drove his intent with a force that left the gunman no choice. He lowered the gun in hypnotic motion. Blake grabbed it from him and turned toward the blond man whose jaw had fallen slack.

  “Remove the needle from her neck and let her go.” He pushed in case the gun wasn’t threat enough.

  The blond man let go, Roxy’s drugged body slumped to the ground, and her head knocked against the pavement. Her light blond curls spread across the concrete and Blake’s focus shot to Addie. If these men were here for him, one or two others would probably be after Addie. He hoped she hadn’t left the penthouse.