Time pirate 3, p.2
Time Pirate 3, page 2
“I know,” Emily giggled. “In fairness, it’s a good excuse. But fine. Francis will show me just once.”
Emily grabbed her ball, and I helped her get the positioning of her feet and wrist right. I showed her how and when to release the ball, and then I stepped back to observe. The beautiful woman took all my cues, and this time, when she released the ball, it rolled right down the center of the lane. When it reached the pins, it knocked over the middle grouping and left just the four outer pins standing.
“I did it!” Emily squealed as she jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “Look, Francis, I did it! I knocked over the pins!”
“I see that,” I said with a warm smile. “Good job.”
“Much better,” Joan said, and then she shooed Emily and me off the lane. “Now, it’s my turn.”
“Damn, Joan, you really do take this seriously,” I teased.
“I may or may not have been in a junior bowling league,” Joan said as a light pink dusted across her cheeks.
“Oh, my,” I said with raised eyebrows. “That has to be one of the nerdiest things I’ve ever heard.”
“I’m a researcher at the Smithsonian,” the brunette said as she shot me a look and stuck her nose in the air. “Of course I’m a nerd.”
“Point taken,” I said, and I gestured at the lane. “Let’s see if you got another strike in you.”
“Duh,” she said with her wicked grin. Then she squared up and sent the ball down the lane with some force, and it knocked over all of the pins except the outermost two.
“Oooh,” Emily remarked, and her mouth formed a perfect O. “You get another turn, right? Which one will you go for?”
“Both,” Joan said as she smugly picked up her ball.
“You can’t get both,” Emily scoffed. “They’re too far apart, you only have one ball.”
“Watch this,” Joan said with a toothy grin.
“This is called a split,” I explained to Emily as Joan went through her motions again. “It’s super hard to get a spare from a split, but I have a feeling Joan is going to show off here.”
Sure enough, Joan rolled the ball toward the pin on the right with enough force that when the ball struck the pin, it shot across the lane and knocked down the pin on the other side.
“Wooooo!” Emily jumped up and cheered enthusiastically for Joan, who did a little jig and cheered in celebration.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” I asked Joan once the celebrations had subsided.
“What?” She widened her brown eyes and blinked up at me.
“I knew it,” I said, and I shook my head like I was disappointed, but I was smiling. “You’re hustling us.”
“I was being nice,” Joan replied with a shrug. “I resisted the urge to put any monetary bets on the game before we started.”
“Thanks for that,” I chuckled and grabbed my ball with the full knowledge that Joan was winning this game.
“Hey, all you have to do is not come in last,” Joan added as I stepped up to the lane. “Then Emily will be the one with a goofy picture.”
“No!” Emily gasped. “Francis, don’t do this to me.”
“Sorry, babe!” I called out over my shoulder as I squared up. “It’s every man and woman for him or her self.”
I took a few steps and cocked my arm as I aimed down the lane.
“I’ll suck your dick!” Emily called out.
Instantly, an image of the sexy blonde woman on her knees and looking up at me with her blue eyes while she had her mouth wrapped around my cock sprang to my mind, and I fumbled the ball. It was riding the gutter within seconds of release, and I turned to Emily with narrowed eyes.
“You cheater,” I said.
“Not my fault it worked,” Emily said with an innocent expression on her face.
“Uh-huh,” I said, and I continued to playfully glare at her until the lane was set up again. “No comments from the peanut gallery this time.”
Emily pretended to zip her mouth shut, and I turned to take my next throw. But just as I cocked my arm back, Emily’s voice called out again.
“Think of my wet, soapy tits all over you,” she said.
The ball fumbled into another gutter ball, and I turned back to the women and put my hands on my hips.
“Emily!” I admonished the blonde.
“What?” She shrugged. “I don’t know what a peanut gallery is. We didn’t have those in my time.”
“You.” I wagged my finger at her as she hopped up to take her turn. “You are sneaky.”
“I know.” The blonde woman gave me a peck on the cheek before she grabbed her ball and took her turn.
“I’m even going to be nice and not shout out super distracting stuff,” I said with a pretend pout as I plopped down on the seat next to Joan.
“Aw, you are too kind, Francis.” Emily blew me a kiss.
“It’s kind of refreshing, you know,” Joan remarked as we watched Emily square up. “People in olden times were just as kinky and dirty as us.”
“Is that refreshing?” I asked with a laugh.
“Oh, totally.” Joan nodded enthusiastically. “There are a lot of people out there who think the internet is the problem. That the world wide web perverted our minds.”
“Clearly, those people never heard of the Kama Sutra,” I said over the sound of Emily’s ball slamming into the lane before it rolled down and knocked over six pins. “Great job, babe!”
“I did it on the first try!” Emily raised her arms into the air. “Yay me!”
“She’s certainly warming up to the modern world,” Joan commented as Emily prepared for her second turn. “It’s amazing, you know. The way you completely changed her life. Forever.”
“Yeah,” I said as I watched Emily set up for her next shot.
I ran my hand over the bulge in my pocket where the pocket watch was nestled against my leg. I kept it on me at all times, but its existence was pretty crazy to think about. Emily was just a normal young woman in 1814 until I literally appeared out of thin air one day. Over the course of the summer, I got close enough to her to whisk her away to the present day, which completely changed the course of her life. She didn’t have to worry about being married off to some old, ugly dude of her father’s choosing, nor did she have to spend her life toiling away at menial household tasks as instructed by the men in her life. Instead, she’d be able to explore her interests and passions and live life how she wanted to.
It was a pretty incredible feeling, but it was also kinda scary. I felt powerful, like I was playing god by changing the trajectory of her life. A part of me felt bad about tearing Emily away from everything she knew, but she’d jumped eagerly at the chance for an escape, so I didn’t waste much energy on that guilt. And Joan was right, she was adjusting remarkably well. Probably better than I would if someone appeared out of nowhere and dropped me two centuries in either direction.
“Yay!” Emily cried out in delight as she knocked another two pins down on her second turn. “I got some both times.”
“Well done,” I said, and when Emily returned to the pit, I embraced her warmly and held her against my chest. “You having a good time?”
“The best,” she sighed happily as she leaned into my chest.
“Really?” Joan interjected as she pushed past us. “Because you’re both losing miserably.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said sarcastically as Emily and I took our seats. “We already know you’re winning this, just throw your strike and be done with it.”
Joan proceeded to kick our asses up and down the lane for the remainder of the game. The pretty brunette ended with a strong mid-two-hundreds score. I just breached one hundred while Emily mustered an impressive seventy-five, considering it was her first time learning the existence of the game. The beautiful blonde woman didn’t seem to mind about the score, and she posed with her pictures without complaint. But, just so she wouldn’t be the odd man out, I pointed out how I technically lost too, and I walked over to join the blonde for a few pictures. Then Joan didn’t want to be left out, so she relented to setting my phone on a timer and propping it up on a table, and all three of us took silly pictures with our ugly shoes front and center.
The photos were ridiculous, but both women were grinning from ear to ear in each one, and I couldn’t help setting one of the images as my lock screen.
Then we spent the rest of the afternoon playing every game in the small arcade until hunger took over, and I brought the women to a small Tex-Mex place nearby, where we piled into the booths and picked up the plastic coated menus.
“Goodness, is this Emily’s first time trying a taco?” Joan asked as she perused the menu.
“What’s a taco?” Emily asked innocently.
A table of middle-aged couples glanced over at us curiously at Emily’s question, and I had to stifle a laugh.
“They’re really good, they’re from Mexico,” I explained. “Want us to order for you?”
“Yes, please.” Emily pushed away the menu just as a server appeared with a bowl of chips and salsa in a bowl shaped like a sombrero, and her blue eyes lit up. “Ohh, these look good.”
“Has anyone taken your drink order yet?” the Hispanic waitress asked in a bored voice as she pulled a small pad and pen out of her apron.
“Nope, you’re the lucky one,” I said with what I hoped was a charming smile.
“What can I get you?” the waitress asked in a softer tone, and she even cracked a smile.
“Umm, two margaritas for the ladies?” I asked as I raised my eyebrows at Joan and Emily, and they both nodded. “Okay, two of those, and just a Corona for me, please.”
“IDs?” the waitress asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, oh! I have one of those!” Emily said as she excitedly pulled the passport out of her purse.
The waitress looked at Emily with a what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-this-chick look, but she took the forged ID, glanced it over, and handed it back to Emily. The blonde seemed pleased that she was able to use her new ID, and she smiled at it before she slid it back in her purse.
The waitress then checked over mine and Joan’s drivers licenses and nodded.
“Be right back,” she said and bounced away as Joan and I resumed our menu perusal.
The waitress came back with our drinks, and we put our food order in and sat back to wait for our meals.
“Do you have to go back to work tomorrow?” Emily asked as she picked up her margarita and looked it over with a confused expression.
“You lick the salt first, then take a drink, like this.” Joan demonstrated the correct way to drink a margarita while I pushed my lime slice into the Corona bottle.
Emily followed Joan’s instructions and made a sour face when she licked the salt, but it softened into a pleased expression.
“Ooooo, I like that,” she said.
“Margaritas are very popular in the modern world,” I chuckled. “And yes, I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
“Booo.” Emily stuck out her tongue to display her dissatisfaction at my employment.
“Will your new boss be there?” Joan asked as she stabbed at the ice with her straw.
“Good ol’ Joe,” I said sarcastically before I took a pull from my bottle and set it back down. “Yeah, he’ll be there.”
My last boss, Riggs, was ousted in a spectacular way, largely due to me framing him for stealing the time traveling pocket watch. I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt, that dude was a prick, and he deserved everything he got. But he’d been replaced with a new guy named Joe Petrov, a mountain of a man with a Russian accent.
“What are you going to do?” Joan asked in a low voice. “Now that you know… what you know.”
Not too long ago, I’d received a call from Craig, my friend on the DC police force. He’d uncovered that my new boss was an active member of a Russian mob, who were currently dedicated to tracking down my time traveling pocket watch and returning it to the head honcho, who happened to be the great-great-grandson of its creator. The mob had been able to track the watch back to the professor who had donated the watch, but they lost the trail once he donated it. So, the mob didn’t know the professor had donated it to Joan’s research lab, and they also didn’t know that the watch was now in my possession. But I’d somehow turned up on their radar, and now it seemed Joe was around to keep an eye on me, or get closer to me until he could get to the pocket watch. I wasn’t sure what his angle was yet, but I knew I wasn’t going to let anything happen to the pocket watch. Or my women.
“I don’t know,” I admitted with a shrug. “I can’t leave yet. It would raise too many questions. Everyone there is working paycheck to paycheck, no one quits without something else lined up.”
“I agree, I think you need to stay for now.” Joan chewed on her lip as her eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe there’s some way you can get his attention off you, though.”
“Like how?” I asked. “I’ve already framed Riggs for something he didn’t do. He deserved it, so that was fine, but I wouldn’t want to point Joe in someone else’s direction. That’s not fair, he could be super dangerous.”
“That’s a good point,” Joan said as she swirled the ice around again. “But still, there’s got to be something you can do to get him off your back.”
“Make him uncomfortable,” Emily said with a sly grin. “Talk about something unsavory until he doesn’t want to be around you anymore.”
“Totally,” Joan said as her face lit up. “Talk about your belly button lint or toe jam or something weird.”
“Oh, that’s definitely stuff I want my two gorgeous girlfriends to think about when they think of me,” I snorted.
The girls broke into giggles as our food arrived. I got the steak fajitas, so my plate was sizzling dramatically, and Emily gasped at the sight.
“What in heavens?” she breathed as the waitress set my plate down.
“Don’t worry, yours is much more manageable,” I said.
The waitress set down Emily’s plate of chargrilled chicken tacos and then Joan’s cheesy enchiladas.
“Enjoy,” the waitress said before she disappeared into the bustling restaurant again.
We had to show Emily how to eat the tacos, and we let her try our dishes as well. I’d never been to this joint before, but the food was really good. My steak was tender and juicy and paired perfectly with the Mexican beer.
“I think Mexican food is my new favorite,” Emily said as she sat back in the booth and patted her stomach.
“We’ll have to add it to our rotation,” I said as I held back a belch.
“Or we could move to Mexico and eat like this every day,” Joan sighed as she mopped up the last of her cheese sauce with one of Emily’s spare tortillas.
“Or just Texas,” I said as I flagged down the waitress for the check. “This is Tex-Mex, after all.”
“As long as there are tacos, I don’t care,” Emily said as she drained the last of her margarita from her semi-reclined position.
I settled up the bill, and we emerged into the dwindling daylight. We were stuffed almost to the point of discomfort, and as we strolled back across the street to our car, Joan’s phone dinged.
“Ugh, not now, I’m too full,” Joan moaned, but she pulled her phone out to check her message, and a surprised look crossed her face. “Oh.”
“What?” I asked as I beeped the new Volvo open.
“It’s an accountant I’ve been speaking to from the dark web,” Joan explained as we climbed into the car. “Someone named F. Larrson. He’s supposed to help us with our… semi-questionable finances.”
“Oh, cool,” I said as I started the engine. “What does he want? Payment upfront, probably.”
“Actually, he wants to meet,” Joan said, and she met my eyes. “Now, if we can?”
“Sure,” I said with a shrug. “Where are we going?”
It wasn’t my favorite idea to meet up with a stranger from the dark web. I knew there were a lot of unsavory characters out there, doing weird shit. But I’d already had a hugely successful sale from the dark web, so I wasn’t totally against the idea, either.
Plus, I had a gun. I was pretty confident I could handle the situation if it went south.
“This is the address,” Joan said, and she set up the GPS on her phone and clipped it into the phone holder in the air vent. “I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting all week, I don’t want to miss the chance if we can.”
“We’ve got time,” I said.
I pulled away from the curb and drove the half hour back to DC to the address on the phone. As I drove, Joan received several more text messages with instructions to follow once we arrived. When we made it to the address, we found it was a quiet-looking office building just on the outskirts of downtown DC, and we read through the instructions from the texts.
“‘Use code two-three-two-three to enter the building, take the elevator to the third floor, and it’s the second room on the right,’” Joan recited from the messages.
“Cool,” I said as I reached into the glove box and pulled out my .38 and ankle holster.
“We need a gun?” Emily asked uncertainly from the backseat.
“Better safe than sorry,” I said as I glanced around the exterior of the office building. It didn’t seem like a super dangerous place, but this guy was from the dark web, so we couldn’t be too sure. I’d rather have the gun and not need it than the other way around. “I was about to suggest you ladies wait in the car, but I have a feeling you don’t want to do that.”
“Nope,” Joan said as she opened the door and hopped out. “Let’s go.”
We followed the instructions given and entered the building with the code.
“The code worked, that’s a good sign,” I said as I led us to a small bank of two elevators on the far side of the foyer.
There was a large silver board that displayed a couple of business names and their suite numbers, but there was nothing for the third floor. I jabbed the call button, and a moment later, the doors slid open, and we piled in.
The elevator deposited us on the third floor, and we stepped out while Joan double-checked the text.
“Second room on the right,” she said, and she eyed the coordinating door.
