Glimpse (The Tesla Effect Book 1) (12 page)

Clearly the best way to deal with trauma was to focus on the nearest cute guy.

She turned from the room and quietly made her way up the stairs. She unconsciously skipped the third stair from the top, as she always did, because the boards under the carpet groaned whenever someone put their weight on them. She had never thought to wonder why she tried to glide through the house, unseen and unheard, why she didn’t want to call attention to her presence in her own home.

Tesla covered the six feet of hallway to her open bedroom door and stopped, mouth open and breath stilled.
Finn and Beckett Isley stood in front of the window beside her unmade bed while the sheer, white curtains billowed around them in the warm breeze. Beckett’s arms were wound tightly around him, her head pressed against his shoulder, an unreadable expression on her face as the two girls looked at each other. Finn’s hands were on Beckett’s shoulders, his face turned toward the open window.

“Thanks, Finn, you always did know how to make me feel better,” Beckett said.
She tipped her chin up to look at Finn and as he turned toward her, Beckett rose up on her toes and kissed him.

Tesla turned on her heel and moved as quickly and quietly as she could past the bathroom she and Max shared to her little brother’s bedroom.
She went inside and closed the door, wincing at the faint
click
. The last thing—the very last thing—she wanted was for Finn to know she’d seen him kiss Beckett, seen how comfortably they fit into each other’s arms, proof positive that they knew each other very, very well. Her face burned with humiliation as she buried her face in her hands.

Surprise—and pleasure—kept Finn from pushing Beckett away immediately. But push her away he did, only a moment later, gently and without ambiguity. “Becks. C’mon. We tried this once, remember? We’re better as friends.” He stepped back from her embrace. “Let’s get back to work.”

Becket looked stunned for the briefest of moments, and then she shrugged. “Sure,” she said. “I’m done in here anyway.”

CHAPTER 12

Tesla looked up quickly when she heard the door open.

“What are you doing in here?” Finn asked.
She could see Beckett right behind him. The blonde girl peered over Finn’s shoulder, and Tesla was sure she had a smirk on her face.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Tesla snapped, her humiliation instantly turned to anger.
“I’m looking through Max’s stuff to see if there’s any hint of where my father might be. You remember my father—the one you’re supposed to protect?”

If Finn was stung by her tone, he didn’t show it.
He looked at her for a moment, his expression unchanged. “Of course I remember. What did you find?”

She felt a pit in her stomach as large and hollow as the house.
“Nothing. I want to go get Max. Now.”

“Okay,” Finn said, no questions asked.
“Beckett and Joley can finish up here.”

Without another word to either of them, Tesla got up from the bed and walked down the stairs, across the living room, and out the front door, where Finn caught up to her.
She was aware of his occasional, sideways glance in her direction as they walked, but she didn’t return his look.

“Does your arm hurt?” he asked.

“No,” she said curtly.

Finn scowled as he felt a trickle of sweat run down between his shoulder blades. They walked for another minute in silence.
“What is up with you?” he finally asked.

Tesla stopped and turned to him on the sidewalk, her eyes squinted against the bright sun, a mere hint of blue and green from between dark lashes.
“Well, let’s see, my father’s office was bombed, he’s apparently in danger from I don’t know who, and now he’s missing. Someone vandalized my house and broke my arm. And a bunch of people I don’t even know have been watching me for weeks. I guess that’s what’s up.”

“Okay, I get it,” Finn said, angry at last.
“But it doesn’t explain why you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you.”
She spoke the lie lightly, infuriatingly nonchalant, and felt a sharp little pang of satisfaction when he pressed his lips tightly together, a soft, frustrated exhalation of air escaping his flared nostrils.

“Forget it,” she said then, her fleeting sense of triumph gone as quickly as it had arrived.
The worry and fear for her dad, and the absurdity of feeling rejected by this guy she barely knew all came together into a lump in her throat. Her eyes stung sharply with tears she refused to shed in front of Finnegan Ford, so she turned away from him and said, “This is the house. I’m gonna get Max.”

Before she could get to the front door, however, Max had flung it open and raced down the porch steps and stopped right in front of her. Tesla knew he had been about to hug her, to throw his arms around her, but had caught himself just in time, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“You okay?” she asked as she clutched his shoulder with her uninjured hand.

“Yeah,” Max said.
He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose and spoke quickly, excitedly. “Dylan’s mom said I couldn’t go home, and she’s been so weird, and nervous, and—what happened to your arm?”

Tesla grabbed his hand, sat down on the first step of Dylan’s front porch and pulled her brother down to sit beside her.
Finn watched quietly, a few feet away on the sidewalk. Tesla still held Max’s hand, which he appeared not to notice.

“I broke it last night—just an accident.
But I have to tell you something, Max. Dad is—”

“Your dad is just fine, I’m sure of it,” said a very assured, and unusually low-pitched woman’s voice from the doorway behind them.

Tesla turned her head quickly toward the sound. “Aunt Jane? What are you doing here?” She looked up at the brunette woman who stood on the porch a few steps above her, noted the familiar short haircut, clipped up over her ears like a boy’s, the long bangs that brushed the top of her eyelashes. She was dark and elfin, her age difficult to guess.

“I’m here for you and Max, of course,” said Aunt Jane.
She wore a smile geared to reassure, but somehow it didn’t quite reach her eyes, which remained far too serious to match her light tone.

“What do you mean, you’re here ‘for’ us?” asked Tesla.
She stood up slowly. For some unfathomable reason, she needed to feel bigger.

Aunt Jane quickly walked down the steps to stand beside Tesla, and Finn noted that with Jane’s heels the two were exactly the same height.

“Tes, why don’t we go back to the house and talk,” said Aunt Jane. She reached out to touch Tesla’s arm but stopped as she took in the cast. “We clearly have a lot to catch up on.”

Tesla took a step backwards.
“You know about Dad. Tell me.”

Aunt Jane glanced quickly at Max.
“Let’s talk later.” She was a petite woman with a voice that suggested she gave orders easily and often. Finn guessed she only had to give them once.

Tesla reached down and found Max’s arm, and her eyes never left Aunt Jane’s.
She pulled Max up from the step where he still sat, brought him in close and clutched him tightly to her side. “Tell us now,” she said, and her voice sounded remarkably like her Aunt’s.

Aunt Jane hesitated for only a moment as she took in the tableau of Tesla and Max, who held onto each other for support.
They stood braced, the weight of all they’d lost—could still lose—clearly upon them.

“Tesla—Max—your father may have been kidnapped.”

Thirty minutes later, Tesla, Max, Aunt Jane, Finn, and Becket sat on the grass under the maple in the Abbotts’ backyard.
The house had been commandeered by Lydia’s people—and Joley, who said he loved all things CSI and didn’t want to miss a single carpet-fiber removal.

Tesla sat quietly next to Max.
Her broken arm rested on her bent knees while her right hand absently pulled up handfuls of grass.

Aunt Jane, who had not yet expounded on the matter of Dr. Abbott, watched Tesla’s angry face and Max’s uncharacteristically close proximity to his sister, and began.

“Your dad hasn’t been seen for almost twenty-four hours. I don’t have to tell you that this is unusual behavior for him. We know that he’s almost always at his lab or here, at home, with you.”

In the pause that followed, Tesla looked up at Jane.
“First, how do you know what his usual behavior is? You haven’t been here for like a year.” Tesla was surprised by her own accusatory tone. Why was she mad at Aunt Jane?

Aunt Jane smiled, and this time it softened her face considerably.
“I may not be here as often as I’d like,” she said, “but I keep in pretty close contact with your dad.”

Tesla looked down at her feet again, and Aunt Jane continued.
“You said ‘first,’ Tesla. What’s ‘second?’”

“Second, who is ‘we’?”

Tesla caught the swift glance between Beckett and Finn, and wondered why she was surprised. “Wait, don’t tell me. You’re some kind of secret agent.” She vaguely remembered that she’d sworn to Lydia that she could keep her mouth shut, but at the moment she didn’t care.

“Well,” Aunt Jane began with some hesitation, “I wouldn’t put it that way, exactly—”

“What the hell?” Tesla cried as she hugged her legs tighter. “You’re supposed to be some kind of business consultant, my mom’s best friend from college. You’ve been an aunt to us our whole lives—you’re Max’s godmother! You’re a spy? Did my father know about you—” Tesla clapped her hand tightly over her own mouth, horrified to realize that she had begun to speak of her father in the past tense.

“Tesla, honey, your dad’s okay,” Aunt Jane assured her as she stood and went to Tesla and Max, crouched down, and lay a hand on each of their shoulders.
“It’s possible that he has decided to stay hidden to keep himself, and you two, safe, but after this long without word it’s more likely that he’s been taken—and if so, whoever is responsible wants him alive, I assure you.”

Tesla took a deep breath, let go of her tight grip on Max’s arm, and shrugged off Aunt Jane’s hand on her shoulder.
She stood up and looked down at Jane, whom she’d known all her life, and her eyes were cold and without a trace of the love and trust she’d always felt for the woman she called her aunt.

“I want to know it all, and I want to know it right now.
Nothing happens until you have spilled every goddamn detail about my parents, their work, who you are, and what has happened to my father.”

Aunt Jane stood, her eyes never leaving Tesla’s, and they sized each other up.
Then the older woman nodded. “Fair enough. But Max—”

“Max stays,” Tesla interrupted.
“No more secrets. From us, or between us.” She looked down at her little brother, who met her eyes without fear. “Max and I are a team,” she finished.

“I understand that you’ve been told about your parents’ work on time travel,” Jane began after a moment, her deep voice displaying no sign of emotion whatsoever.

“You ‘understand’?” Tesla said, the scorn clear in her voice. “Let’s be clear. You were told that I was attacked in our house the same night Dad disappeared, and so I had to be brought in.”

“Yes, Tesla, that’s right.”

“Then just say so! And tell me who told you—what part of ‘tell us everything’ do you not get?”

“Sorry,” Jane said, and her voice actually sounded it.
“Force of habit. Yes, Lydia and I know one another, and we have been in periodic contact about your father and his work the last few years. We do not work for the same agency, but our employers have agreed to coordinate on this case for various reasons. We keep each other in the loop.”

“So you know these guys, that they’ve been watching us,” Tesla said, indicating with her hand those assembled, and more.

“Yes, although I’ve only just met everyone involved here, except for Lydia.”

Tesla didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help it: she glanced at Finn, her belief that he had betrayed her—again—by keeping this from her plain on her face.
Finn, to his credit, did not look away.

She turned back to Jane.
“What do you think has happened to Dad?”

“We believe that he has experienced some kind of breakthrough in his work, and that someone, or some group, who has watched him in anticipation of just such a breakthrough, has kidnapped him in order to steal his work.”

“Steal the ability to time-travel,” Tesla corrected her.

“Wait, what?” said Max, who had been silent until this moment.

“Yeah, Max, this was what Dad and Mom worked on, together, and Dad has continued since Mom died. He’s really close.
Really
close,” she repeated.

“Yes, and we need to talk about that,” said Finn.
“This has all started to move quickly and we don’t want to lose sight of what you might be able to tell us—your experience could be directly connected to your dad’s disappearance.”

“I know, but wait,” said Tesla as she turned back to Jane.
“Who do you think has Dad?”

“There are several possibilities,” said Jane in her clipped, low voice.
“We’re aware of both groups and individuals who have an interest in this, for profit or ideology.”

“And which do you think it is?” Tesla pressed.

“I think it’s someone who wants to profit from the technology, and I think it’s a personal issue as well.”

“Sebastian Nilsen,” Tesla said quietly.

“Who?” asked Max.

“Dr. Sebastian Nilsen,” Jane repeated.
“He went to college with us—with your mom and dad and me. I went on to study politics and history, but your parents and Sebastian earned doctorates in physics. They were friends. Close friends.”

“So why would he kidnap my dad?” Max asked.
“There has to be more to the story, something specific that has motivated him. Jealousy, money, something. But I don’t think friendship is a part of it—or at least not anymore.”

“Max, I thought you were just hearing about this for the first time?” Jane said.

Max shrugged. “It’s a narrative, and there are a limited number of possible motivations for the characters in any story, right?”

“That’s right,” said Finn.
“I think I came to that realization like, six months ago, and only through advanced courses in literature, narrative theory, and social psychology. Good job, man.”

Max grinned at Finn, and they quietly fist-bumped.

The back door banged shut and everyone who sat under the tree in the Abbott backyard turned as one and watched Joley approach.

Finn, who knew him very well and could see the suppressed excitement on his face, stood up.
“What is it?” he asked.

Joley focused in on Tesla as if he spoke to her alone.
“We found something.”