Time Jacker, Aaron Crash [most important books of all time txt] 📗

“After all the shit I’ve seen? No, man, this is pretty fucking normal. Besides, I hear they’re not toys, they’re collectibles.” Or at least they would have been if he’d kept them in the package and taken care of them. From the looks of it, Hugo played with his toys regularly; they were as dirty and worn as everything else.

Jack left the house, but not before exchanging numbers with Hugo. He hoped that Mrs. Mundi might remember something else. Maybe Hugo would go off his meds and start preaching insanity again, crazy as a shithouse rat. Jack just might need that crazy.

For now, he drove home, one eye closed, parked, and got up into his apartment. After dumping ice cubes into a plastic bag, he wound up in his bed, fully clothed, with the freezing-cold bag on his forehead.

He might need to get some morphine if the pain continued. Pinetree would have some.

Pinetree just might be able to help, but, no, Jack needed to talk with Bailey. And he needed to figure out his money situation so he didn’t have to work. That way he could search for Annie twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

It would mean stealing. What kind of a man would that make him?

Then he remembered that he’d saved Evelyn Mundi from a monster. She was back living a life, and that was probably why Hugo was on his meds again. If he stole money from assholes, and if he saved people, wouldn’t both cancel each other out?

He was in too much pain to ponder morality for long. He’d have to trust in his moral compass—it would let him know if he completely screwed up.

And Annie. He had to find Annie.

And it seemed that his only lead was Bailey, but where would she be?

Then Jack knew. And though he felt like someone was inside his head smacking his frontal cortex with a spiked baseball bat, he smiled. Of course.

Where else would someone find a horny sex demon who just might also have a heart of gold?

Chapter Ten

JACK CALLED HIS VARIOUS employers and friends to tell them he was sick and wouldn’t be at work that week. He mentioned headaches, migraines that left him incapacitated. Really, he was just growing into his power. He had no doubt that he’d eventually outgrow the headaches. He was feeling less and less pain each time he stopped time. It felt good not to go to work, not to rush, not to have to do anything other than what he wanted to do.

He didn’t stop time that Monday morning, but instead naturally took a few minutes to practice his guitar. Not too long, since he needed to find Bailey, get more information on the strange world he’d discovered, and then find Annie. She’d been missing for forty-eight hours now. Normally, that wouldn’t be a good sign. If this were a regular missing person case, the longer it went with her gone, the less chance she’d show up. Jack kept an eye on the NCIC and the CBI databases, but so far, there had been no movement on the case.

For Annie, though, Jack was pretty sure that some demon had grabbed her, most likely Horns. If Evelyn Mundi could be gone for over three decades, then Annie might be in a similar situation. It was strange that Mrs. Mundi didn’t remember her time being chewed on by Horns. However, that could be Bailey removing the memories. That just might be a kindness.

Was Bailey less evil than she let on? Jack was going to find out.

Monday morning, he headed out to St. Jude’s, a church off Rio Grande Avenue in Old Town, which was the nicer part of the eastern side of Plum Creek. There were fancy restaurants there, high-end shops, and a Marriott Courtyard. He parked on the street and popped into the hotel.

Jack showed the desk clerk a picture of Evelyn Mundi. He got lucky. The woman remembered Mrs. Mundi, who seemed drunk. She was with a dark-haired woman with dark skin in dark sunglasses. That would hide the different-colored eyes. The tail could be hidden under her dress, though this meant Bailey could manifest a body. It was something to consider. As he was about to leave, the clerk said, “Come to think of it, I think I’ve seen that woman before. I think she was coming out of St. Jude’s next door, though it was the middle of the week, not a Sunday.”

Jack thanked her, then went next door. He clicked the key on the toy soldier. The world stopped. He pushed through the doors into the church.

A few old people sat like statues in the pews. The altar was clear. The smell of candle smoke and incense hung in the air. Everything was silent. Of course it was—there was no wind, no talking, no movement.

“Bailey!” Jack called out.

From out of an alcove emerged the woman, in her red dress, in her black stilettos, with no sign of a tail or horns. She clicked across the tiles. “Well, well, well. You guessed my little home away from home. Nice sleuthing.”

“Evelyn Mundi mentioned the Marriott by the church, and the clerk remembered seeing you around.” He frowned at her. “You owe me information. I went into the shower. We had our fun with Wanda, but I need to understand what is going on. And you’re going to tell me.”

“And why would I tell you anything, mystery man?” she asked.

“Because I’m a mystery,” he said. “And I figured out your little home. I’ll come back here all the fucking time if I have to. Also, I know about what you did with Evelyn Mundi. After I saved her, you took her, and I’m a little confused by that.”

Bailey came swishing up in her dress, tits and hips wiggling. She smelled like the sweet soul of sex. She flashed those eyes at him, one icy blue, the other red and blazing. “You generated a bunch of Kairos,