And a phone number. Their phone number. Hers and Josh’s.
An unbelievably large reward was being offered for any information that led to her recovery. She couldn’t imagine where Josh could have come up with so much.
“What is it?” Robert asked. “Is it a license, like the small one you gave me?”
She shook her head. “It’s a missing-person flier. People put them up when loved ones disappear in hopes that someone will see it, recognize them, and know where they might be found.”
“Does such happen often?”
“People going missing?”
He nodded.
“Unfortunately, yes.” She looked at Seth, who had turned slightly in his seat to watch them. “Have you seen these?”
“Aye. He has put up thousands of them since you disappeared, blanketing at least a fifty-mile radius from the clearing in which the two of you fell. He even faxed a copy to other bounty hunters in hopes they would distribute them in other parts of the state.”
“Why didn’t you tell him I was okay? Why did you just let him think the worst?” What Josh must have suffered…
“Had I approached him and informed him that his sister was alive and well and living in thirteenth-century England, what reason would he have had to believe me?”
“Then you should have sent him back with me!” she declared, anger rising.
“I could not,” he said simply.
“Beth, love,” Robert said beside her, “please do not mar it.”
Looking down, she saw that she had clenched her hand into a fist, crinkling the paper, and relaxed her grip.
Robert took it from her and carefully smoothed it out on his knee, handling it as though it were a priceless work of art.
Seth turned back around, swung the van out into traffic and resumed their journey.
Sighing, Beth leaned against Robert.
“You will see him soon, love,” he promised.
Her stomach in knots, Beth hoped so.
Hours later, Beth sprawled in Josh’s favorite chair in the living room, wondering where the hell her brother was. The house had been empty when they had arrived.
Thank goodness Seth hadn’t just dropped them off, then driven away, because Beth hadn’t had her keys with her.
Apparently, among his many other gifts, Seth had pretty impressive telekinetic abilities. One wave of his hand and both locks had unlocked.
Beth had invited him to stay, but Seth had declined.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
The lights turned off, on, off, then on again as Robert toyed with the switch across the room.
Darkness had fallen. Beth’s stomach rumbled with hunger, but she didn’t eat anything. She couldn’t. She was too nervous. Too frustrated. Too impatient to see her brother if he would just bring his ass home already.
Click-click. Click-click. Click. Click.
The flickering lights didn’t help, but she could understand Robert’s fascination with electricity.
On. Off. On. Off. On-off-on-off. On. Off. On.
Where the hell was Josh? Had he gone to the clearing?
She had tried to call him on his cell and discovered he had left the damned thing at home.
She tried to calculate how long it would take him, in rush-hour traffic, to get to the clearing, search it, then come home.
He should be here by now, if that was what he’d done. Shouldn’t he?
Click. Click. Click-click. Click-click.
Off. On. Off-on. Off-on. Off. On. Off. On. Off-on-off-on-off-on-off-on-off-on.
“Robert, honey, you are working my last nerve. Please stop messing with the lights.” She was so tired and tense she forgot to use Middle English.
“Beth?”
She gasped. Josh.
Head whipping around, she looked toward the kitchen.
Her brother stood just inside the living room, his face as white as a sheet, his eyes wide, and his right arm aiming a Glock 9mm at Robert.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Josh!” Launching herself from the chair, she raced across the room and slammed into him, hitting him so hard he staggered backward two steps.
He wrapped his free arm around her waist.
Beth looped her arms around his neck and squeezed hard, so damned happy to see him.
“Beth,” he said again, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there.
Nodding, she hugged him tighter, tears welling in her eyes and dampening his shoulder.
A throat cleared behind her. “Beth, sweetling,” Robert said, “your brother has trained his weapon upon me. Should I be concerned?”
She shook her head. “Nay.” Never looking up, she slid one hand down Josh’s arm, found the 9mm, took it from him, flipped the safety on, and tossed it onto the sofa.
Josh must have taken that to mean Robert was friend and not foe, because he clamped both arms around her, buried his face in her hair, and wept.
The strength seemed to leave his legs, and the two of them sank to their knees.
Beth didn’t know how long they remained there, both crying so hard they couldn’t speak, clutching each other desperately, as if each feared the other would disappear if they loosened their hold even the slightest bit.
Then…
Click. The lights went off. Click. Then came on again. Off. On. Off. On.