The woman scowled at me, as if I was the one responsible for this mess.
“Did you hear them say anything helpful?” Lewis continued. “Anything about where they might be heading?”
“Sure.” The man nodded. “When Lloyd walked in, before he showed his gun, he said, ‘What’s taking so long, Annie? I wantto get to Saint Paul before dark.’ And she said, ‘I’m ready when you are.’ Then he showed his gun, demanded our money, and they left.”
My gaze caught on Lewis’s, and he nodded, letting me know he understood the significance of the man’s statement.
“Thank you for your time,” Lewis said to them. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“I don’t want to see you around here again,” the woman said to me. “No one who looks like that Annie Barker is welcome in these parts.”
Her words hurt more than they should. In 1727, I was carrying the shame of being Anne Reed’s daughter. Now, in 1927, I was being judged because of her, too. She cast a shadow over both my lives, and I’d never even met her.
Lewis put his hand at the small of my back and led me to his vehicle. “Don’t let her get to you,” he said.
We got into his Chevy, and he pulled away from the store, heading back toward the Twin Cities.
“What will we do now?” I asked.
“I’m taking you home.”
“I’m not going home until I talk to Annie.”
“How are we supposed to find her this afternoon, before your father’s broadcast? I’ll need some time to ask around.”
“Let’s go to the Green Lantern. Isn’t that where criminals check in?”
“I’m not taking you there, Carrie. Besides, even if she did check in, it doesn’t mean she told them where she’s staying.”
“Please, Lew—”
“End of discussion. It’s far too dangerous, and what would people say if they saw you there?”
I clenched my hands, frustration mounting. “I’m so tired of being told what I can and cannot do. I’m an adult. If I want to go to the Green Lantern bar, then I should be able to go.”
“It’s reckless.” He shook his head. “I won’t be responsible for putting you in danger.”
“You won’t. I’m choosing to go. Why must I rely on you and my father and Marcus to make all the decisions for me?”
He frowned. “Who is Marcus?”
My bluster faded as I realized I’d misspoken. I had never intended to tell Lewis about Marcus. What would he think if he knew I was a captive on a pirate ship and that I’d foolishly fallen in love with a pirate? But I had to say something.
“He—he’s someone from my other life.” I looked out the window, not wanting him to see my face, afraid I might give away my feelings. We were driving north toward the Twin Cities again, passing sprawling farmlands on either side of the road.
Lewis was silent for a moment, then he asked, quietly, “Are you in love with this Marcus?”
Marcus was two hundred years away, on a pirate ship in Florida. Yet he was just as real as Lewis. I didn’t want to hurt my friend, but perhaps it would be best if I told Lewis, so he knew where my heart belonged.
With a deep breath, I said, “Yes. I am in love with Marcus.”
His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white, but he kept his face neutral as he nodded. “How long have you been in love?”
“Not long.”
“Does he love you?”
DidMarcus love me? I knew he cared for me. His words the other night had revealed a depth of longing he couldn’t hide. And he was scared to hurt me, but did he love me?
