Trouble Under Venus Read online

  Fastening a rubber band around the end of my hair, I said, “Thanks.” The pink sky had brightened to red.

  “Pretty.”

  “Yeah. I still don’t know whether I like sunsets or sunrises more.”

  “I didn’t mean the sunset,” he replied.

  His comment disturbed my breathing, gave me that fluttering in my chest again. “Um. You know what comes next, right? Venus.” His intense stare made it hard to concentrate. “I guess I like sunsets best, because of Venus. I mean, I guess she’s there in the morning too. Venus is misunderstood. Most people assume she’s a star—”

  “And waste their wish,” he supplied.

  “It’s not her fault! She can’t help it that nobody takes the time to figure out what she really is.”

  “Wasn’t Venus a love goddess? Maybe she disguises herself. Maybe she’s pretending to be a star. Deceptive.”

  The conversation had taken a decidedly sour turn, especially with the note of disgust in Mitch’s voice. Deceptive. Why in the world would he be suspicious of Venus? Unless he was suspicious of all females.

  Mustering all the conviction I could, I said, “You’ve been hurt. By a woman who deceived you.”

  He did not answer.

  “Mitch?” Why did the thought of him heart-broken tie my stomach in knots? Usually when one embarked on a fling, one did not worry about how many times the flingee had been hurt. Or so I’d heard. “I suppose you could look at the bright side. I mean, you can always count on Venus to be there. Dependability has to count for something?” My companion chewed his lip and looked at me. What was that serious expression he wore, anyway? Was he thinking of his old wounds, or potential new ones? “And she comes out at the most romantic time of the day. Right after sunset. Dusk. I mean, the word ‘dusk’ is romantic, don’t you think?” My mouth was out of control, delivering a string of barely related sentences for me, keeping my mind busy so as not to dwell on Mitch’s serious expression. “Dusk rhymes with musk, and musk is, you know, like the essence, or something used in perfume. Something to do with pheromones, I think.”

  “Drew!” Thank God he’d halted my nonsense. “You’re babbling.” At least that grim expression on his face had faded.

  So had all the color in the western sky. As the corners of his mouth turned up a bit, I caught my first sight of a small, steady gleam just above where the sun had set.

  “That’s another thing,” I said, hating myself for chattering again. “Her light is always steady. None of that flashing on and off business.”

  “That’s because it’s not her light.” He laughed. “She’s reflecting somebody else’s.”

  “Nobody accuses the moon of not shining, and all it does is reflect the sun’s light!” I harrumphed. “She’s not pretending to be anything she isn’t. Science has known for centuries she’s a planet. Everybody wants her to be a star, so they tell themselves that’s what she is. All she wants to do is be herself. And they, they, they—put their wishes, their hopes on her and expect her to deliver something she’s incapable of!”

  How I could be getting so emotional in front of Mitch, I didn’t know. This was ridiculous. My marriage was over. My divorce was over.

  “Wanta tell me about it?” Another new addition to the library of Mitch tones. This one I’d call Dr. Sympathetic.

  Of course he’d like me to tell him more about me. I, meanwhile, knew precious little about him. Which was as annoying as it was mystifying. “No, dammit! You’ve probably read all about it, anyhow. Dammit!” I couldn’t come up with as many words pissed off as when I was nervous. “I don’t want to tell you another goddamned thing about me. How’s that? Here’s one thing I’ll tell you: I don’t like perfect strangers knowing everything there is to know about me. What do I know about you, huh? Not your natural hair color! Not your real name! Or your exact profession. I know you don’t wear glasses and you aren’t a nerd. You distrust women and you’re scared of heights. Lightning freaks you out as much as it does me, but you played it cool for my sake. You eat like crazy, swim like a fish, and close like a security gate every time I try to find out who you really are. Next to my father, you’re the single biggest mystery I’ve ever come across. And besides all that, you have a knack for nicknames.”

  He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

  “Nancy Drew can’t keep away from a mystery, and neither can I.” I sat there, trembling, waiting for his reply.

  “Jesus.”

  After that tirade, all I got in return was ‘Jesus’?

  “Of all the times to be without rubbers,” he muttered before I could demand that he expand on his thoughts.

  And then he pressed me back, his hands cushioning my head as his mouth pushed down on mine. The weight of his body stole my breath as much as his kisses did. My heart raced. Did he intend to go through with sex, even without a condom? Hopefully.

  No! Not hopefully! I couldn’t muddy the waters of my life with a baby.

  “Hey Goodman.” I wheezed in a breath, despite his weight bearing down on me. “How do you feel about unplanned pregnancy?”

  He choked. And pulled away. “Good one, Drew. Guess it’s gonna be a long night, huh?” He sat up and dragged his fingers through his hair, leaving me missing his warm body atop mine. “We better eat, it’s gonna get nippy out here.”

  Half an hour later, zipped safe, warm, and oh-so-demure inside my sleeping bag, I couldn’t sleep. The third time I changed positions to avoid the rock between my shoulder blades, Mitch let loose a sigh.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “Am I keeping you awake?”

  “No.”

  Quiet settled between us.

  I willed myself to meditate and at least make use of the time if I couldn’t sleep.

  “Her name was Angela, but she was no angel.”

  My eyes popped open at his words. Fearful of breaking the spell making him talk, I kept quiet.

  “She was older. Not old, but definitely more experienced. I was a sophomore in college. She’d been around in the bars close to campus. I knew she went to school there and I knew she had money. One night I invited her home from the bar. That was the beginning. Sometimes she’d show up at my apartment at noon, sometimes she’d track me down as I was leaving my last class. A couple days, she came to my door before I’d left for my first class. Those times, we cut school and made love all day. There was always a gift. Cufflinks, a CD, a silk dress shirt. She never slept over. I should have known, when she said she loved me but never slept over. It wasn’t like the girlfriends I had before. It was real. At least, I thought it was. The sex wasn’t good—it was fucking perfect. She always had a new trick, a new position she’d read about in Cosmo. She didn’t make me feel inexperienced, though. I don’t know what I expected. I guess, that we’d go on like that until we graduated and then we’d both get good jobs and I’d propose.”

  He paused so long, I wondered if he’d continue. Then he drew a deep breath. “One day I got home from class and had this message on the machine. She was breaking it off. Because she thought she was pregnant. I went apeshit, tried all night to find her. She had a writing class the next morning, so I waited for her there. She was livid when she saw me. Told me to leave her alone, that the pregnancy was a false alarm, but she couldn’t take the chance of it being real next time. I don’t know how long I stood there arguing with her and begging her to meet me later, but she wouldn’t. Fifteen minutes into my first class, I got called out and hauled down to the academic director’s office. Apparently, the school’s biggest donor wanted me expelled. His wife had called him sobbing and claiming I’d accosted her that morning.”

  Good God! “Mitch, I’m—”

  “And for the record, that is my name. When it’s safe, I’ll tell you my real last name. My hair is brown. And I’m FBI, but even my supervisor’s supervisor doesn’t know about this mission, especially since his department is in the process of stopping Sudo. Pretty much the only reason you’re going to get to travel is because you’re going wit
h me. After us, they’ll halt his operation.”

  “Wow…that’s a lot to digest.”

  “Yeah, and let’s hope there aren’t any bugs in the backpacks, because I never should’ve told you all that.”

  “So why are we out here tonight?”

  “Because Sudo sent us, I suppose. In spite of what you’ll be calling me tomorrow when I’m rocking your world, I’m not God. I’m FBI.”

  “Pig!” I laughed. “I suppose I should be grateful you’re at least admitting that you don’t know everything.”

  “Almost everything.” He yawned. “Just can’t remember it all at once. ’Night, Drew. Rest up, will ya?”

  Chapter 10

  Dear Randi,

  My God, my back hurts! Sleeping on the hard ground is for kids. And Indians.

  I’m back in my posh room at the Feng Shui Inn after a night spent backpacking and all-but-doing-the-horizontal-mambo with the Dreamboat of the Year, Mitchell Goodbody. Er, Goodman. “Dreamboat” is such a 60’s throwback word, but it describes him perfectly. And guess what? Today we will get horizontal for real. We agreed on it. He even told me some personal stuff that for confidential reasons I cannot record here and now. But I do feel like we connected. Maybe falling for him wouldn’t be such a bad thing, once I’m done with my mission. After all, I’ve got to get back in the dating game someday, don’t I?

  Which reminds me…I missed a ton of calls on my cell while we were gone. Mom, Melissa, even David called. God. I cannot face dealing with them right now. I need to shower first.

  Hair removal seems imperative when faced with the prospect of being nude with a guy who shaves his body hair.

  I wonder if he removed it all? I mean, that part would be covered by his Speedo, so it shouldn’t slow down his swim time…

  Hmm. I’ll have to think on it more in the shower.

  P.S. His goodnight kiss turned into a long make-out session. This promises to be the best sex ever. And don’t even think of putting me on a guilt trip for not truly knowing him first. You, of all people, know how much I need this.

  Once I’d finished showering, it seemed important to get my makeup and hair done, in case Mitch showed up early.

  I still didn’t feel like listening to my voice mail. Maybe Mitch would like to drive into town and find a drugstore. We could make use of our ‘downtime’ while we waited for Sudo’s summons.

  After three knocks on Mitch’s door, it was obvious he’d either left his room or was sleeping the sleep of the undead. I could only hope he’d gone out for condoms.

  Back in my room, I paced. In an effort to take my thoughts off sex, I picked up the booklet someone had left on my writing desk, entitled, You’re Ready for Time Travel. How to Do It.

  Catchy title. Attention-grabbing. Good way to kill some time, reading it.

  Something nagged at me. Something I needed to do…but here in front of me was an explicit how-to book on time travel.

  Reveling in the softness of my mattress, I stretched out on my stomach and read.

  It is a significant accomplishment to have achieved this level of mental mastery. Kudos to you, my pupil. By now you’ll have experienced the Second Level of Soulfulness on at least one occasion. It is this state which will open your door to the space-time continuum.

  I must stress the importance of mental imagery. As instructed in your welcome packet, you should be studying a photograph of the precise place and time to which you wish to travel. Without a decisive destination in mind, time travel becomes erratic at best. Due to incorrect markings on photos I studied, my first trip to Dallas took me two months ahead and then one month behind where I needed to arrive. Please be sure, also, to study a current photo of the Feng Shui Inn, as I would prefer that your return trip ends here.

  Take some time to understand the schematics of the Time Transcending Radio, a communications device I’ve had designed to work as far back as 1969. With the TTR, you’ll be just a two-way radio call away from help—should you become stranded or lost, or need coaching. The TTR is disguised as a transistor radio and will, in fact, pick up AM stations. However, care should be taken to keep it out of sight during your visit to the past. By now, you’ve been cautioned enough to know what problems might arise should a device from our time fall into the wrong hands.

  Chapter 1: Entering the Wormhole…

  * * * *

  The alarm clock wouldn’t stop ringing. I opened my eyes and realized it was the phone in my room.

  “Erm. Hello?”

  “Drew.” Mitch laughed. “Were you sleeping again?”

  “No. I was…meditating,” I fibbed. Shit. I still hadn’t called my mom back. She’d be frantic.

  “Sure you were. Get some shoes and a jacket and meet me outside.”

  “God. Shoes and a jacket? Last time I had to get shoes and a jacket, I got air-dropped into Snake Central.”

  “Do it. You’ll want shades too, if you’ve got ’em.”

  “Okay. But first I need to call my mom back. I’ll be out as soon as I can.”

  “I tried.” I sighed as I stepped out into the late afternoon. No answer on my mom’s cell or Melissa’s. And no way was I going to have Dreamboat waiting around while I returned a call to my ex. “So what’s up?”

  Mitch looked rakish in a leather jacket and a grin as wide as his wraparound sunglasses. “You look good, Drew.” To prove his point, he pulled me into his arms and gave me a long kiss right there in the courtyard. “Come on.” With my hand in his, he led me toward the back parking lot.

  “Hey, aren’t we supposed to see Sudo today?”

  “I talked to him. He’ll see us tomorrow.” Mitch stopped and pulled me against him again. “I have a surprise. We travel day after tomorrow.”

  “Really?” I squealed. “Cool.” My heart raced with glee. Clear for takeoff.

  “That’s not the only surprise.” He resumed walking, faster than before. When we got to the parking area, he led me to a Harley Davidson Fat Boy. “Can you really drive one?”

  “Um. Yeah…”

  “Show me.” He plunked the little key in my hand and proceeded to settle a bright red helmet on my head, a matching one on his own.

  The key chain said, ‘Wild Spirits Rentals’. Sounded like my kind of business.

  I’d owned a bike for two years in college, a fact my parents had not been aware of. But this bike was bigger, and I’d have a large passenger on back. It would be a challenge, but I was up for it. “Okay, then,” I replied, swinging my leg over. “Let me take it around the lot a couple times, ’til I get a feel for it.”

  Riding through the shadowed canyons north of Sedona with Mitch’s arms wrapped around me and his bulk warm against my back, the wind on my front, I felt like two different people in the same body. One half of me dwelled in reality and the other must be dreaming. Even when we got stuck behind a car crawling its way along, wondering what Mitch had planned for us, I smiled.

  Highway 89 took us up a switch-backed mountainside and topped out at a scenic overview where we pulled off to take a breather.

  “Christ. Maybe that slow-ass truck will get ahead of us, if he knows he needs to put his foot down on the pedal on the right,” Mitch complained.

  I simply laughed.

  “Shit. I didn’t rent a Hog so we could go slow. Wouldn’t you like to see what it’s got?”

  “You’re such a…man. A really cool man, though. And shockingly liberal, willing to let a woman drive his motorcycle.” He’d removed his helmet and sweaty chunks of his hair stuck up in cute places here and there. Unable to resist, I ran my fingers over his very smooth face. I wasn’t the only one who’d hit the razor since our camping trip.

  “So you like the bike?”

  “Yeah,” I answered over my shoulder as I walked over to the edge of the lot for a better look at the valley below—and since he watched, with a bit more wiggle than usual. “Riding a motorcycle is, like, better than sex.”

  He growled and then swept me up into his arms,
holding me there like I weighed nothing. “I have two dozen condoms in my room.” Above the shades, his brows lifted with implication.

  “Then what are we doing here?”

  “I have another surprise for you.” He must have taken my curiosity for impatience, because he said, “I wanted tonight to be special.” Setting me down, he still held me close. “It’s, uh, the first time I’ve wanted it to be special in a really long time.”

  “Oh.” Since Angela? The question hovered but I resisted asking it.

  “Would it be really un-liberal of me if I drove the rest of the way? Because I’d like to get there fast.

  “You have a motorcycle license, I take it?” It was silly to ask; how else would he have rented one?

  “Yeah. Just wanted to see if you really knew how to ride a bike. You did okay. For a girl.”

  Riding with Mitch on a motorcycle was a thrill ride in and of itself. He handled a bike in much the same way he did the Jeep. He wasn’t unsafe, but he sure went as fast as he could.

  The sun set as we continued north toward Flagstaff, through chilly shaded pine forests. Dusk was falling as we hit town and he maneuvered through tourist traffic. My stomach growled with each restaurant we passed, but still he drove. Up a hill, past signs pointing toward the Lowell Observatory.

  He killed the engine in a corner of the nearly-dark parking lot.

  Already regretting the loss of his body heat, I dismounted.

  “What do you think? Ever see Venus through a telescope?”

  Off in the west, my favorite planet got brighter. “No, I haven’t, actually. Mitch. This is really sweet of you.”

  “Come ’ere and show me, while we wait for that line of people to get in the front door.” He tugged at my hand and pulled me onto his lap, facing backward, carefully hung our helmets from the handlebars and pulled me closer. “Jesus, it’s gonna be a long ride back to Sedona.” Then his lips found mine and my arms went around his neck. Those flames within flared again, warming us against the chilly air all around. “I want you, Drew. So much.” Sitting on his lap, I had no doubt he wanted me as much as I wanted him. “More than you think.” He nibbled his way down to my collar bone, then raised his head back up to eye level. His eyes were open so wide. Sucking in a big breath, he cupped both sides of my face in his hands. “It’s, well, it’s pretty much all on the line with you. I figure, rather than fall, I might as well jump. I trust you. Anything you wanta know about me, ask and I’ll answer. Just not about the case. Not ’til after we get back from 1980, okay?”