She had had plenty of time to ponder that overheard snippet of Darien's "telephone" conversation. Temportation. An unfamiliar word, but one she had little trouble deciphering. Travel through time. That date he had mentioned, 2189, was two hundred years in the future.
Or, perhaps, five years in his past?
The concept was fascinating in its complexity. Could this be proof that she would still be alive two centuries hence? Did he possibly remember facts about her that hadn't yet occurred? If so, were those facts etched in stone, or could she alter her destiny and render his memories invalid?
Would she actually become a policewoman? She shuddered at the thought.
So far he did not suspect her true role in his memories, yet she knew a great deal about him from what he had let slip. How could she use this knowledge to her advantage? He already had preconceptions about her--should she play into them?
She had briefly considered the notion that he existed in his own private fantasy world, but dismissed it. Too many things pointed the other way. His heart rate, for instance, was incredibly low compared to normal mortals. The voice with which he had conversed came not from the telephone, as he pretended, but from elsewhere on his person. Phrases Mace used out of habit that made no sense within a modern milieu could very well indicate a futuristic origin. She was not so closed-minded that she would ignore such a unique opportunity.
"Welcome, gentlemen. I must say, I expected you earlier."
Darien sat down on her right. Mace, after a quick peck on the cheek, took the seat on her left. "I was delayed getting my belongings back from the police."
"Ah, yes, I had heard that you were robbed the other--" She halted in the middle of her sentence and cocked her head. Gunshots? Not loud enough for a mortal to notice, especially over the din inside the club, but still, so close to the Raven? At the same time she heard a short series of staccato notes emanating from the vicinity of Darien's pocket. Coincidence? Probably not.
"My beeper," Darien explained. "May I use your phone?"
Her suspicions confirmed, Janette held up a hand to restrain him. "No need for the charade. I know you intend to speak to your friend the disembodied voice, as you did on your last visit." She enjoyed seeing his eyes widen in astonishment. "If I am not mistaken," she added, "it is about to warn you that shots have been fired not too far from here."
Darien continued to stare at her as he said, "Go ahead, SELMA."
"Officer Nichols is correct, Captain." Her synthesized voice held overtones of awe.
"Officer who?" Mace scrutinized the woman next to him. "Janine Nichols? Hot damn, it is you! No wonder you seemed so familiar. The three of us working together to capture a fugitive--it's just like old times."
"If I may interrupt," SELMA cut in with her customary politeness. "I have pinpointed the location of the gunshots, and they are within five meters of where the police found the pickpocket's body."
"The shots have ceased," Janette announced.
Darien added his two cents to the conversation. "Perhaps we'd better go check it out." He stood up. "Mace?"
"I'm with you, partner." He leapt to his feet.
Janette did the same, albeit with infinitely more grace. "I, as well."
"Are you sure? It could be dangerous," Mace warned. Concerned for her safety, no doubt. How ironic.
"As you said. It will be just like old times."