Author's note: Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! You guys are the best! I love to hear what you think. Here's a nice long one for your patience. Work got the best of me the last two weeks … and not nearly as pleasantly as it's getting the best of Audrey and Nathan …
There were still a few hours of morning left by the time they made it to the station, which Audrey felt showed significant career dedication.
Their conversation on the drive over was light and inconsequential. She held his hand and pretended the contact – and all the delicious hours of contact since yesterday – had banished the tension from his body.
Most of her worries from that morning were still swirling through her head. Putting on her work clothes had less of a focusing effect when Nathan was trying to convince her to take them back off. But there was also a giddiness bubbling inside her. Though she knew it wasn't true, she felt invincible. Walking through the station door felt like a brand new start.
"Morning, Marge," she chirped at the receptionist.
It took a few moments for the woman to raise her head and flash her a puzzled look.
"Joan," Nathan corrected fondly from a few steps behind her.
Audrey turned back to look at him. "Really?"
"Yeah." It had been easier to concentrate when she didn't know a whole myriad of ways to wipe a smirk like that off his face.
She shook her head and tried to focus on the present. "Damn. I'm going to get better at that."
"Because you're less distracted now then when you first came to Haven?" he quipped.
"Shut up." She shoved him gently, and then turned back to Joan, who was watching the exchange with raised eyebrows.
"I'm sorry, Joan. That's a lovely name, really. Better than Marge. I'll remember it next time. Or try to, anyway."
She'd only taken a few steps toward Nathan's office, him chuckling all the way, when another officer whose name she couldn't even begin to guess entered the hallway and stared at her like she was either a ghost or a banshee.
"Hi," she offered lamely, realizing that maybe she really should have been sorry about causing a scene at the station.
By the time she encountered Stan, who stammered a greeting and wouldn't look her in the face, she'd figured out how to fix this.
There was a spare desk in the lobby, and she dragged Nathan over and used his shoulder to steady herself as she climbed onto it. From that vantage point she could see down the hallway. There weren't nearly as many cops bustling around as there used to be.
"Excuse me," she shouted. The room went silent, though she could hear people shuffling in their offices. "Could everyone please come out here? I've got a couple of announcements."
"What are you doing?" Nathan asked, peering up at her.
"I've got this." She waved him off as a small crowd filed in. After a minute or two she took a deep breath and flashed them all a shaky smile. As much as the town apparently revolved around her she wasn't used to being the center of attention. "So, I'm back. Obviously. First off, I want to apologize for all the yelling yesterday. I was a little shocked by what's going on, but it's all good now. I'll try to use my inside voice in the future. And secondly, Nathan and I are sleeping together."
"Parker!" he hissed.
Just as she expected, that didn't seem to shock many people. "We weren't, before I went –" she made a vague, fluttering hand gesture, "wherever he told you I went – but we are now, so you can settle your bets and move on. Thank you. Now back to work."
She waited until everyone had filtered out before she clambered back to the floor.
"Was that necessary?" He looked mortified, but she wasn't sorry.
"I just saved us from weeks of awkward questions meant to fish out did they or didn't they just so they could figure out who won the office pool. It's all in the open now. So I can do this." She leaned forward on her tip-toes, looped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
She half expected him to resist and was pleased when he didn't. When he pulled away he left his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against hers. "We're still not supposed to do that. Here anyway. Or probably at all."
"Why don't you tell the Chief?" she teased.
She wasn't used to the mischievous grin he flashed her, but the way it sent heat pulsing through her she determined to cause it more often. "Heard he's a pretty good guy. I could probably get him to make an exception."
"If not, I can always try to convince him," she purred. Her hands slid up his chest to finger the skin above his shirt.
"You do realize other people can see us, don't you?"
He stepped away, and she pouted at the loss of contact, even though she knew he was right. Heaven only knew what Marge – Joan – thought of them now.
"You're the one who insisted we come here today. I have enough vacation saved up we wouldn't have to bother for weeks."
She allowed herself a moment to savor the thought of that – being able to lock herself in Nathan's bedroom and do nothing but him for a week. To say everything that needed to be said without interruption. To teach them both the meaning of untempered joy and love without strings. To simply be two people, young and in love, driven by adoration, attraction, and hormones. Not two hardened cops trying to hold a town together and solve a decades old mystery to save their own skins. She wanted to blow off work without feeling guilty. Sit around with a couple of beers swapping childhood stories. Fall asleep together on the couch while watching a movie. Go on dates without worrying someone was trying to kill her.
But there were people trying to kill her, and they didn't have the luxury of living their lives as if there weren't. A blissful week wouldn't be worth it if she was shot dead at the end of it and Nathan was left alone again.
"You know why we have to bother."
She hated that she had to darken his good mood. But they did need to focus, and she needed that reminder as much as he did.
"Yeah," he said tightly, glowering.
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure this out. We just can't give them the time to get the jump on us."
"They've got every advantage."
"They don't have me. And I'm pretty good at this Troubled stuff."
She stared at him, daring him to contradict, but he conceded instead. "You did always like the weird ones."
"That is so much truer than we ever imagined. So what's on the docket today, Chief?"
He slipped on his professionalism like a uniform. "I think I've got the Alistair cover-up under control. Dwight faked a car wreck. Story is dentals confirmed identity, but the body was so badly burned immediate cremation was ordered. Stan should have called the sister to let her know this morning."
"Wanna blow off paperwork to help with some investigating? I've got some questions about the files I read yesterday."
"Yeah," he said tentatively.
"Don't worry. I promised no more yelling, remember?"
She followed him through the station. All the confidential files she'd pulled were still piled on his desk – probably unwise except that it sounded like it didn't matter much. She examined the plain, rectangular room – a desk, a chair, a few filing cabinets. No ornamentation of any kind. It lacked life and character – and space for her.
"You office is awfully small. How are we going to fit another desk in here?"
His eyebrows scrunched as he squinted his eyes. "We aren't?"
"Ah, come on. Are you really going to make me work in some empty office down the hall?"
"I've had my own office since I became Chief."
"Yeah, but I was right outside. And it was more fun when we shared." They'd driven each other half nuts sometimes being in such close quarters, but that had always made life interesting. Now that they had a shared secret mission, it seemed more important than ever that it was easy to work together.
But square footage was not on her side. He set her up in the nearest empty office, issued her a new gun and filed the paperwork to get her reinstated. But once the technicalities were accomplished she dragged the comfiest chair she could find into his office, fully intending to invade his work space at every opportunity.
She started by rolling her chair right beside his and picking up the top file. "So. Meteors keep falling. Town goes crazy. Troubles flare up everywhere. That makes sense."
"So what doesn't make sense?" he asked.
"You said the Guard is afraid the outside world's going to catch on to what's happening in Haven. And that the meteor shower was national news."
"Yep."
"Then how come they didn't catch on? These paint a pretty bleak portrait of disturbing killings, maimings, and basically gang warfare between the Guard and the Rev's men. Even the doctored versions would easily make the nightly news. How could the world possibly look toward Haven and not know something's going on?"
"The Guard has a family that can make people forget. They know killing outsiders will start something they can't contain. So they've made sure no one leaves here with any knowledge of what they've seen."
"A bunch of reporters become amnesiacs after visiting a small town? Seems like that would require a whole other cover up."
"The Troubled can control how much is erased. It's not a full memory wipe."
"And that's worked?"
"Seems to."
"I hate to give the Guard any credit, but it does seem like they dodged a bullet there. If scientists caught wind of this place it would be a nightmare."
"Thought has crossed my mind."
He had a fancy diagnosis to hide behind, but she'd done enough research after they first met to know idiopathic neuropathy couldn't explain the scope of his symptoms. She thought of him strapped to a lab table and knew she'd wipe a few nosy reporters' brains to keep anyone from daring to run tests on him. But there would be no easy way to explain a man whose shadow had a thirst for vengeance or a woman who turned into a succubus every Friday and stole the years from her victims to give them to her miracle-grow babies.
"So the Guard is trying to protect the town – they're just willing to use any means necessary."
"The Guard is protecting the Troubled," Nathan corrected sharply. "They don't give a damn for those in town who aren't."
"So maybe I should tell them I'm Troubled, 'eh?"
"You can't seek them out!" he demanded.
"Okay. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I get it. Stay away from big bad men with tattoos."
"I have a list of all known Guard members. You'll need to memorize it. And we'll have to figure out which ones have Troubles that could still harm you, even if they don't work on you directly."
"Aye, aye, Captain."
"This is serious."
"I know." But she hadn't figured out what to do about the Guard yet, and she didn't want to fight with him today. She flipped absentmindedly through a few pages of the folder she was holding. It was too vast a compilation to pick out anything useful without having a clue what they were looking for. They'd need to figure out a plan of attack before they really started digging.
"Where did you tell people I went?" she asked. He'd told her she'd been listed as dismissed after vacating her post, but that hardly said anything. With two Havens, it was unwise to take anything at face value.
"Didn't really."
"Do they know what's going on, or are they still buying the BS about gas leaks and food poisoning?"
"You'd have to be pretty dense to believe the spin anymore. Half the time Dave and Vince don't even bother. The whole PD knows about the Troubles. But the Guard did a pretty good job spreading their side of the Barn story. So most everyone thinks you either left town so you didn't have to go into the Barn, or you went in unwillingly, and that's why it didn't work."
"Unwilling because I'd rather be sleeping with you."
"Basically."
"Well I'm glad I pretty much substantiated that rumor."
"Yeah. Thanks for that."
But when she rolled her eyes he let the cracks show in his mask of disapproval. They'd gravitated closer during their discussion and his face was only a few inches from hers. She could see the specks of blue in his eyes and she itched to count them, run her fingers up his cheekbones and bury them in his hair, kiss his slightly parted lips.
He was staring at her just as intently. The thread of their conversation lost, she leaned in closer.
"We are not making out here."
His voice startled her, but she didn't pull away. She licked her lips and watched him gulp. "We are so making out here. We spent far too long not making out here. If we're going to spend most of our time at the station, making out will happen. Unless you think you can resist me?"
She leaned even closer but didn't touch him, waiting for him to make that move.
His resolve held for a few seconds before he caved. "Not sure the point of tryin'."
"Good man," she whispered.
"Terrible cop," he countered before closing the distance between them. The kiss was unhurried and gentle, obviously not going anywhere since they were indeed at work, but it thrilled her nevertheless.
"Eh," she murmured when they pulled away. "Rules are overrated." She leaned forward to kiss him again but he shifted his head slightly so she could feel his warm breath on her ear.
"Later," he whispered.
She jerked away with a laugh. He looked as dazed as she felt, and she just wanted to lock the door, close the blinds, and make later now.
"This is why you need to have your own office."
"Point taken." She pushed her chair away to put a respectable amount of distance between them, but he kept gazing at her in a way that was definitely not work appropriate.
"My father is probably rolling in his grave," he finally said.
"Rattling in his cooler?" she shot back, unable to help herself.
"That's not funny." But his lips twitched upwards, and she laughed.
"Yeah it is."
His smile faltered. "He told me not to fall in love with you."
He'd gotten too serious all of a sudden, and she wanted to banish that. "Let me guess. He was not a fan of office PDAs."
"He really wasn't. But that wasn't it. He told me you were too important to the town."
That surely meant something. Garland had worked with Lucy for God's sake and had never said a thing to Nathan or Audrey, and that was something they'd have to explore. But it wasn't going to stop them. "Good thing you never listened to your father."
"Yeah. We should go over that Guard list." After pulling the file up on his computer Nathan grilled her on names and abilities until her phone vibrated across the desk. Grateful for the distraction, she was even gladder after she read the text.
"We have to go to the Gull for lunch. Duke's bored."
"Well let me drop this and get my running shoes," he deadpanned.
She rolled her eyes. "James is there."
There was something so endearingly paternal in the way he perked up at the mention of their son's name that she didn't make him scramble for an excuse to change his mind. She just stood up and reached for her coat.
"Besides, once we tell Duke the Guard runs the town he may not leave the Gull till we sort this all out."
"Wouldn't that be lucky?" Nathan said from behind her, but there was no bite in it, and she wasn't fooled for a moment.
\*\
Duke was behind the bar when they entered the Grey Gull. But there was definitely something strange about the way he scrutinized them as they entered his restaurant. "Well if it isn't my favorite officers of the law."
"What's with the look?" Audrey asked.
"He's trying to figure out if we had sex." Nathan tried to sound longsuffering about it, but he didn't stammer or shy away from Duke's innuendo, and Audrey could read the pride in that.
Part of her wanted to knock the boys' heads together and tell them to keep her out of their pointless alpha male pissing contests. But if Duke was going to butt into their sex life, she might as well give Nathan the upper hand in this one.
"Wrong question," she teased. "How about how many times?"
"I'm glad it's easy to pretend you're not my parents."
She hadn't noticed that James was already in the restaurant. Way to make your already extremely awkward relationship with you son even worse, she internally chided, hiding her face in Nathan's shoulder for a few seconds as she stifled a giggle. "You were not supposed to hear that. I am so sorry."
"Glad the over sharing was for my benefit, then," Duke quipped.
"She's already announced it to the entire police department. Might as well tell you next."
"You did what?" Duke asked.
She settled on one of the stools and leaned across the bar. "Don't you guys watch TV? Partners are never supposed to fall for each other, and they always do, and then they spend an aggravating half a season trying to hide their relationship from their co-workers. But the co-workers always find out, and there are bets and hijinks and we don't have time for that. And you're the boss so, figured we'd just get this all out in the open. Full disclosure."
"Did you send them a memo?" Duke asked.
"She stood on a desk and made an announcement."
"You didn't!" Duke seemed altogether too delighted about this.
"I did. I don't see what the big deal is."
"Audrey Parker, that is classic. Did he blush just like he's blushing now?"
"Did turn pretty red. I calmed him down though."
"Really," James interrupted. "I don't need to be here for this conversation."
Duke laughed, and Audrey found she was strangely pleased by his approval. "I'm happy for you guys. But can I just say – finally."
"You've said it. Now you can get over it." Nathan's voice was tight, but Audrey didn't think he was really mad. She reached out for his hand and linked their fingers together. He squeezed back slightly, reassuring her.
"Wow. Still a spoilsport. I really thought you'd be in a better mood considering—"
"So what's for lunch?" James interrupted.
"Your subtlety makes so much more sense because I know where it comes from," Duke said with a smirk.
He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with four perilously balanced plates. "Crabcakes. Finest Haven has to offer."
"These are divine," Audrey exclaimed after her first bite. Even better, it felt like comfort food. Something quintessentially Maine that would have marveled her before she got so wrapped up in the dark side of Haven. Sometimes she forgot that this place really was beautiful. That before she'd gotten distracted she'd been charmed by the sea and the beaches and the small town atmosphere that was so different for someone born in Cincinnati who'd spent years living in Boston. One could build a life here, away from all the hassles of big city living – if not for its residents' supernatural maladies.
"I told you."
She rolled her eyes, but she didn't hide her smile. "Yeah, yeah. Like you needed the ego boost."
"Care to tell me why everyone in town is so grumpy nowadays? My seafood man looked at me like I was a ghost and then grossly overcharged me."
Audrey looked at Nathan, glad the man no longer seemed delighted at the prospect of telling Duke. She'd found his paranoia about tattooed men amusing on more than one occasion, but it wasn't a joke anymore. The Guard had taken over the town, they'd made Nathan suffer, and they were a threat to everything she cared about. She hated that maybe they'd steal Duke's good humor as well.
Their eyes locked, and she could tell he was wondering if she wanted to be the one to break the news. But she didn't, so she shook her head.
"What am I missing here?" Duke asked, suspicion creeping into his tone about their little display.
"The Guard practically runs Haven now," Nathan revealed. "They'll be after Audrey for not taking the Troubles away. If they find out you're the one who helped her out of the Barn they'll probably target you too. You might want to lay low for awhile. Delay the Gull's reopening until we get this straightened out."
Audrey held her breath and waited for the hysterics. But Duke didn't leap from his stool and start gesticulating. Instead he set down his fork and muttered, "Damn." He ran a hand through his hair, which he hadn't bothered to pull back into a ponytail today. "I'm guessing Vince isn't in charge anymore?"
"No," Nathan answered.
Duke took a deep, steadying breath. Instead of panic overtaking him Audrey watched in awe as he seemed to pull himself together, like a fed during a pre-op. "So how do we stop them?"
She wasn't expecting his voice to be steady, or tempered with steel. He was so different from the man who'd demanded police protection after he thought he'd saw a man with the tattoo in the grocery store.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked. Audrey hadn't realized she'd been staring.
"I expected you to be freaking out," she admitted, shaking her head to try and clear the notion. He'd come such a long way since they first met, and she'd been so wrapped up in everything she hadn't even noticed. "But it's like you're all grown up."
Something raw and honest seemed to flash across his face for a moment, but it melted so quickly into his typical cheek she didn't have a chance to analyze it. "Why Officer Parker, that was extraordinarily condescending. I'll have you know I'm quite capable of keeping a cool head in a dangerous situation. I did all right when my ship was commandeered by those poker freaks, if you recall."
"I absolutely remember that you can strip on command," she teased.
"That was your brilliant plan, sweetheart."
Despite all the danger they'd been in, that had still been a good day. "I figured why not. Take out the bad guys, keep your ship from sinking, get a little show in the process."
"I don't recall you telling me how you got the upper hand on the boat," Nathan said. Duke had specifically asked her not to mention it, even though she'd known Nathan would have been delighted by the story. She supposed it did sound a bit scandalous, and she hoped Duke had the tact not to turn it into something it wasn't.
"You better watch out, Nathan. She ever hands you an earpiece and tells you to do whatever she says you don't know what she might come up with in that twisted mind of hers. An officer of the law."
Grateful, she plastered on a fake scowl. "You really want to play that card, Crocker, when your boat got taken over because of something you were smuggling?"
"So, did Vince and Dave have anything to say about how we solve this little problem?"
Audrey laughed at Duke's abrupt change of topic. It felt good to know their news about the Guard hadn't wigged him out. And that even if Duke was maturing, he was still a lovable smartass. He'd always known how to keep her amused and distracted, and she had a feeling she'd need that more than ever in the coming months.
"Not really," she answered. "But I think I'll be able to crack Dave if I work at it enough. He told me Sarah kept a journal, and she was working on a plan to stay. If we can just figure out what she did with it it might have some clues we need."
"She left it for me," James said.
Audrey stared at the man who'd mostly been quietly observing their conversation. For some reason the idea had never occurred to her, but it made perfect sense.
"Do you still have it?" she asked.
"No. I gave it to Lucy, like I was supposed to. But I have this." He reached into a pocket of his flannel shirt and pulled out a folded, yellowed sheet of paper and a photograph.
Audrey took them almost reverently, setting the letter down in front of her but holding on to the picture. She had so little proof of her former lives. She held her breath as she stared at the photo of Sarah standing on a beach with little James in her arms. It was like looking at the Colorado Kid photo – her features were the same, but the hair was so unfamiliar it didn't seem like her. The photo was black and white, so all she could tell about her hair color was it had been darker than it was now, but she'd never had such tight, short curls.
But it wasn't herself she kept staring at. It was the baby she was cradling so reverently. Audrey had never thought herself maternal—frankly babies were needy and a bit scary. Finding out she'd had one she'd forgotten about had shaken her, but as much as she'd intellectually understood the Colorado Kid was her son there was still some part of her that hadn't internalized it. She wanted to know James, to bond with him and form a relationship. But they looked about the same age now and he already had a mother who raised him. She supposed she'd have to settle with being a friend and to be honest that hadn't bothered her much. But something stirred in her as she stared at the photo. The wind had been cold that day, the first sign of summer's fading, and she had known she was nearly out of time. As desperately as she loved her son it would not keep her here, and she needed to protect him at all costs. She'd been overwhelmed by a love so deep and a despair so encompassing it had almost torn her in two. She did not want to leave her son. But his father was the only thing that could save her, and he wasn't even born yet.
"Parker, are you all right?" Nathan's hand on her shoulder pulled her from her reverie. Instinct made her wipe her hand under her nose, but she wasn't bleeding. She didn't want to move her head for fear it would shake the memory further away, but it was already fading.
But the love it had revealed was left behind. She glanced over at James and had to fight an overwhelming urge to throw her arms around him and never let go.
"Yeah, I'm okay," she answered, feeling hot tears leak from her eyes.
"Audrey?" Nathan's voice was soft with concern, and he was so focused on her reaction he hadn't even looked at what she was holding. And something twisted inside her, because she barely even remembered this, but Nathan had known Sarah.
She passed it to him. "Our son," she choked, waiting for the despair to wash over him at the sight of everything he should have had. If he'd never gone back to his own time Sarah would have loved him without any of Audrey's baggage, and even if they hadn't been able to stop the Barn he would have had their son to raise. Nathan would be too outstanding a father to give in to despair if he had a child to love.
But the pain she waited for never appeared. Nathan stared at the photo in awe, and when he turned to her he was grinning. He brushed her tears away with the pads of this thumbs and then cradled her head as he kissed her. When they came up for air he didn't let go. His eyes also seemed to be sparkling with tears.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?"
"For giving us our son."
She wanted to tell him she had nothing to do with it, but the way he was looking at her like she was the most precious thing in all the world convinced her how much he believed it had always been her, no matter what memories she had. She needed that certainty to face whatever was ahead. She wanted to believe her past, fractured as it was, was a single narrative of looking for him.
"You're incredible," she told him, needing him to understand how much he held her together. He had a terrible habit of never giving himself enough credit, and she supposed it came from decades of the Chief's tough love and his isolating affliction.
He ran his finger down her face. "And we're making the others uncomfortable. Read the letter."
She had forgotten Duke and James were there, and she blushed at the thought of them witnessing such intimacy. Maybe it was going to be challenging to work with Nathan now. He'd never been able to capture her attention so thoroughly that the rest of the world fell away. Being observant was critical to being a cop, but now she just wanted to observe him. She'd never been able to shake her drive in any other relationship.
He handed her the letter so she didn't have to risk meeting anyone else's eye as she reached for it. She unfolded it carefully. The paper was fragile and the creases were frayed and pronounced, as if it had been read and refolded many times.
The only cursive she used anymore was in her signature, but she recognized those few oft-written letters in Sarah's script. Taking a deep breath, she began reading.
Dearest James,
I wish that you could grow up hearing every day just how much I love you. It breaks my heart that I can only pray that you have a happy childhood rather than giving you one myself. June and Paul are kind, generous people, and you will be safe with them. I do not know if they will mention me. I doubt it, but maybe that is just as well. It will be safer for you to grow up in ignorance. Better, perhaps, not to know that I exist at all until it is time for us to meet again.
For I, Sarah Vernon, am the woman who gave birth to you – not June Cogan.
I am sorry if that is a shock, and news that you do not wish to hear.
I need you to understand two things about this revelation – that your mother loved you desperately, and there was nothing shameful about your birth.
If I could rewrite the rules of the universe to stay with you then I would in a heartbeat. The reasons why such drastic measures would be necessary cannot be contained in a single letter, but you must know this – you were never unwanted. I have loved you from the moment I knew you were on your way, and I shall hold on to the memory of the first time I held you for as long as I can.
As for your father – he was the most wondrous man I ever met. Handsome, kind, brave. When I looked into his eyes it was as if I saw countless lifetimes together, and in each one he adored me. Had we only the luxury of time we would have done everything properly so there could be no word of scandal to disparage us. But our time together was very brief. By the time I knew I was pregnant he was long gone.
This diary contains a very strange tale, and it is your choice whether you wish to read it. Doing so will open your eyes to a world you never imagined, and part of me wishes to shield you from that. But part of me wants you to know the extraordinary tale of where you came from. The choice is yours.
There is one thing I ask of you. You were born in a town called Haven, Maine, about fifty miles north of Portland. In the spring of1983 I need you to come looking for me. You will not find Sarah Vernon. Perhaps some will tell you she had come to town once and disappeared years ago. I suspect most will tell you nothing at all.
Do not be discouraged. Because Sarah will not be in Haven – but I will be, with a different name, and a different hairstyle, and no memory that I have been there before. I will not have aged, and I will not remember that I sent you here or that I've ever birthed a child.
If you need help finding me look for Vince and Dave Teagues. Someone once told me I would find them running the local newspaper. It seems fitting that now I tell you the same. Show them the photo I've left with this letter, and tell them that Sarah needs them to help you find her new self. I fear they will still mourn me, so do not be harsh with them. But do not let them play dumb. If I have returned they will know, and do not let them pretend otherwise.
You must give me this journal. I know what I ask of you seems impossibly strange, and the truth is what I've just told you only scratches the surface. But your father once told me, "You don't need to be afraid of what you can't explain," and that advice has sustained me through everything I have experienced since I met him. As tragic as my life feels in this moment, knowing I must leave you to be raised by someone else, I have faith that our time together is not ending – it is only being delayed. I had hoped to find a way to stay with you, but it seems we both must wait. But I am confident that there is an end in sight to the cycle I am trapped in. My future self must know what I discovered so perhaps she can bring about that end.
Give me this journal, and tell me to read it, and my curiosity will do the rest. Because there is something about this town that I cannot resist, no matter who I am, and as my fate seems to be tied to it I will do whatever I can to free us both. I just need time, and information, and a friend by my side.
Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I hope you will be that friend.
Travel safe, my darling. Do not judge your father for leaving me, and do not judge me for falling into temptation. For ours is a love that transcends reason, capable of amazing things, of which you will always be its first and greatest gift.
With all my love,
Sarah
She wanted to reread it until she'd memorized every word and could remember writing it and all the emotion that must have gone into composing what was both a goodbye and an introduction. She'd thought about writing a goodbye letter for Nathan before the Barn arrived, but she'd given up on the notion because she hadn't been able to find the words. Sarah had an eloquence she'd never possessed as Audrey Parker, and an adoration for the two men who'd been in her life for such a short while that Audrey wished she could express.
"Did you read the diary?" she asked James when she could finally speak. He looked slightly uncomfortable, and how could he not be. She was neither the woman who'd birthed him or the one he'd gone looking for. If he'd ever bonded with Lucy the circumstances surrounding his death had sullied that.
"Of course. Introduction like that, how could I not?"
In that he was surely his mother's son. "What did it say?"
"That shortly after Sarah arrived in Haven she fell in love with a man from the future, but she had to send him back to his own timeline. She befriended a pair of newspaper men, and together they helped people in town with supernatural problems. She learned that she bore a striking resemblance to someone who'd visited the town nearly thirty years ago. She discovered that there was another Sarah Vernon in Washington. That she didn't just look like Margaret Thomas, she was Margaret Thomas. That for as far back as she could trace she had visited the town with a new name and a new look every twenty-seven years and the Troubles always stopped when she left. But they always came back, and so did she. She said she was looking for a way to end the Troubles without going away. But she ran out of time, so she needed a safe place for me. June was a friend of the real Sarah, and she knew she wasn't able to have children of her own, so she left me in Colorado with her and her husband and asked them to give me the letter and the journal in 1983."
"Did she mention anything she'd learned about staying?"
"She was vague. She'd make comments sometimes about how she dared not write down what she'd learned. I'm not sure who she thought would read it. But there was a sealed letter to Lucy inside. Maybe she told her."
"Lucy ever mention any ideas about how to stay out of the Barn?" Nathan asked.
The bottom seemed to drop out of Audrey's stomach, because she realized that Lucy had. But she wasn't ready to hear Nathan tell her she should kill him for the good of the town. That wasn't an option, and she didn't want to fight about it with others around. She looked at James with wide, panicked eyes.
He simply shook his head. "Nah." She smiled at him and tried to calm herself down before the others noticed.
"So where's the journal now?" Duke asked.
"No idea. Lucy still had it when I was killed. She carried it around with her sometimes. I don't know if she had it when she went into the Barn."
"We'll have to see if there's any of Lucy's stuff anywhere," Nathan suggested. "Should be easier to find something that's only been missing thirty years instead of sixty."
"Yeah." It was a needle in a haystack, but it was encouraging to know that at least there was something in that haystack to find. She fingered the letter. "Can I borrow this? Maybe it'll spark something. It would be a whole lot easier if I could just remember where Lucy put the diary – or what she and Sarah knew in the first place."
James nodded. "Sure. And I'll write down anything I recall reading. I was pretty blown away by how crazy everything was so I'm sure the finer details escaped me, but maybe I'll remember something that means something to you."
"Thank you." She reached out and clasped her hand over his. It wasn't the embrace she yearned for, but it was a start. Maybe one day they could both see her as that woman standing on the beach, but for now they had a shared objective and a basic understanding of their past.
"We ought to get back to the station." She wasn't sure what she could do there exactly. She needed the Herald archives and the diary of a woman who was essentially dead. But her head always seemed clear at the station. She'd feel productive and she and Nathan could come up with some next steps. And there were still plenty of Troubled people that needed her help, so she was sure to have some casework soon.
"Probably," Nathan echoed.
"Thanks for lunch," she told Duke, piling her silverware and napkin on her plate and then stacking that plate on Nathan's.
"Thanks for crying and making out with Nathan right in front of us."
"Shut up!" she said, but she couldn't stop the grin that bubbled up inside her.
"There's that smile. Keep your chin up. We'll figure this out."
Duke was all anyone could ask for in a brother – supportive, amusing, and desperately afraid of sentimentality. She wasn't sure she'd be able to keep sane without him.
"You be careful, all right?"
"If there's one thing I'm good at, it's hiding from bastards with maze tattoos. I'm not going to let them get me now. Don't you worry."
She could feel Nathan's hand on her back as they all said their goodbyes. She and Duke needed words but with Nathan his presence was enough, and that was something altogether different and absolutely wonderful. And as they returned to the station Audrey realized that she didn't have to be jealous. Because Sarah may have had a man who loved her and a child she remembered, but Audrey Parker had a family.