Opening it up, she found a birth certificate, driver’s license, Social Security number, passport, a bank statement and credit cards, all of them in Theo’s name.
“What’s all this?”
“Theo is now here permanently. There’s no way I can return him to his original timeline without serious consequences. To start a life here, he’ll need a paper trail in case anyone goes looking. The bank statement and cards are real, as is the money.
Olivia’s mouth fell open. “There’s over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in this account.”
“Like I said, I owe him more than I can ever repay.”
“Where did the money come from?” she asked suspiciously.
“Don’t worry.” He chuckled. “It’s legal.”
“And that’s supposed to make me not worry?”
He looked at her with genuine affection. “I have to go now.”
“Are you going to at least tell me your name?”
“It’s Sam.” He threw her a last smile, hitting her with the full force of his dimples, then he disappeared.
Olivia sat for several moments, staring around the empty kitchen, and all that remained of her strange guest was a faint crackle of electricity in the air and the handful of credentials in her hand. She dropped her gaze to the collection of papers detailing Theodore Beckett’s new life.
It would probably be wise to wait a few days, she told herself. Give herself time to absorb the sheer insanity that seemed to be taking over her life, or at the very least, figure out what the hell she was going to do with a three-hundred-year-old guy who’d never seen the modern world.
Even if she managed to get him released from Riverside, where was she supposed to take him? It wasn’t as if she could let him stay with her, she didn’t know him, and despite everything Sam had said she didn’t know him either. There was no way she was letting a seventeenth century Witchfinder stay in her home, but that still left the problem of what to do with him. She’d only been back in Mercy herself for a week or so, she really didn’t want to burden her friends when she was only just getting to know them again. It was bad enough they’d inadvertently been caught up in a murder investigation.
With a deep sigh of resignation, she grabbed her jacket, and stuffed the folder into her purse. She yanked on her boots and headed for the door, picking up her phone as she went.
If she really was crazy enough to do this, she was going to need help.
An hour later she found herself staring at the outside of the Riverside Psychiatric Facility. She didn’t know what she had expected, but for sure it wasn’t a regular building surrounded by ruthlessly manicured lawns. There was no perimeter fence, no bars on the windows, and no heavily armed security, unlike Morley Ridge. She’d only visited that place once and had found it terrifying. Not just the imposing building, which looked as if it had been plucked straight out of a horror movie, but even the ground Morley Ridge sat upon felt as if it were stained with violence and death. She wasn’t surprised her dad had wanted to escape his imprisonment there.
Fighting back a faint ripple of anxiety, she shook her head and took a deep breath. She swallowed back the faint tinge of nausea and tried not to think about her father. That was a problem for another day.
Instead, she concentrated her attention on the whitewashed building in front of her. Riverside had none of the foreboding overtures of Morley Ridge and so she clutched her purse tighter on her shoulder. Turning toward the main building she made her way past the neatly trimmed shrubbery to approach the entrance.
She hesitated, and for one insane moment, she wanted to run away from it all, to get back in her car and just drive, leave everything behind, be free. Except she wouldn’t be. She’d been running for the last twenty years, and what had it gotten her? Back in the place where it all started. No, this time she had to face it all and deal with it, starting with Theodore Beckett.
Getting in to see him was surprisingly easy compared to the hoops she’d had to jump through to try to see her father. This wasn’t a high-security facility, and Theodore Beckett wasn’t a convicted felon. As far as the authorities were concerned, he was just some random guy with amnesia.
She signed in and had a brief word with the receptionist, a perky redhead named Jeanette, who’d informed Olivia that the patients were socializing in the day room, which was through the double doors and to the left at the end of the corridor. Nodding politely, Olivia headed in that direction, trying to figure out what on earth she was going to say when she found him.
The day room was large, bright, and airy. Crisp autumn sunlight filtered in through the large windows. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow with generic art hung periodically around the room. A television and couch sat in one corner of the room, and tables and chairs were set up in small groups around the wide space.
Olivia wandered past a broad, well-muscled male nurse in white pants and a white polo shirt that bore the Riverside insignia. He had an ID and a bunch of keys clipped to his belt, and he stood with his arms crossed at his chest.
Patients milled around the room. Some watched old reruns of Cheers. More sat around a rectangular table playing checkers, although she was sure in checkers you weren’t supposed to build little towers out of the counters.
Olivia resumed her search of the room, and her gaze fell on the tall dark-haired man who had occupied much of her thoughts for the past week.
Theodore Beckett sat alone at a table by one of the windows overlooking the garden. He was dressed much the same as the other patients— a pale blue cotton robe, blue-and-white striped pajama pants, and a white t-shirt, which, instead of hanging off him like many of the other frailer patients, clung to his broad chest. His dark colored hair hung forward, making her fingertips itch to smooth it back from his face. Olivia watched as he leaned quietly over what looked like a sketchbook. Curious as to what he was drawing, her feet were moving before she’d had a chance to consciously think about it. Her gaze fell to the table as she approached quietly.
As her shadow fell over his work, he looked up, his intense gaze holding hers. For several long moments neither spoke.
“May I sit?” Olivia finally broke the silent détente and he gave a nod, his expression giving nothing away.
When he finally spoke, his low rasp of a voice curled around her.
