Pop Travel Read online

  “Died? What happened?” asked Mrs. Jones. She sat up straighter, intrigued. Her hazel eyes glowed. “An accident?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ed replied.

  She smiled and sat back with her elbows on the sides of the chair, touching her fingertips together.

  What a sadist! Remind me never to cross her!

  “We’ve dispatched an agent to visit Cooper’s office to confirm the connection and find out if anyone there knows anything pertinent. We also have an agent tailing Cooper, ready to approach him, if needed.” He signaled Nate again, who removed the bio and widened the current video feed. Cooper ambled down a street, eating a bagel. Every few feet the frame would update as he came into range of the next camera.

  Mr. Saffioti pointed at Cooper.

  “That guy? He looks like a buffoon. What does he know?” he asked and smoothed his hair again.

  “In the course of his investigation yesterday, Cooper went to the Atlanta travelport and spoke with Security. He was present when we discovered hidden videos that should have been destroyed. They have since been disposed of. Today, Cooper spoke with his brother, the Congressman. From their conversation, Cooper thinks pop travel has a glitch sending people to a mysterious location and erasing their memory. He gave no indication he knows the truth. His brother did some digging for him but came up empty-handed. The Representative has no level of clearance worth mentioning. Detective Cooper did make it clear he wants to speak to the Creator. Representative Cooper is going to get him a ticket for the Creator’s birthday party on Friday.”

  Nate smiled, listening to Ed tell them only what he wanted them to know. A king at the game of secrets.

  “Can he do that?” Mr. Saffioti asked with widened eyes. He spooked so easily.

  “Probably. Politicians trade tickets all the time.”

  Mrs. Jones nodded. So did Nate. He had observed some pop travel ticket trades a time or two.

  “Do you think we should cancel the party?” Mr. Saffioti’s face twisted in pain.

  “Calm down, Ray. Really. That would be terrible press,” Mrs. Jones told him and patted his hand. “We can handle this.”

  “There’s more at stake here than bad publicity.” More hair smoothing.

  That guy might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Nate mused and shook his head.

  “Everything will be fine. Ed has it all under control. Right, Ed?” Mrs. Jones asked.

  “Of course, ma’am.” He stood up straighter, giving a smug smile.

  Mr. Saffioti noted a change of scenery on the imager. “What is he doing at the library museum?”

  “Let’s see.” Ed motioned for Nate to turn up the volume.

  Atlanta Public Library Museum

  11:00 a.m., Thursday, July 25

  fter climbing the steps, Cooper inserted his bankcard and gave his thumbprint to pay the admission fee, unlocking the door. A waft of moldy air greeted him from all the old books stored there. Other than the private libraries kept by collectors, public library museums displayed and protected the only hard copies of books left.

  In the center of library’s immaculate lobby, with its sturdy marble floor, an elderly librarian sat behind a beautifully carved antique desk, just as much a part of the exhibit as the books. To his left, Cooper smelled the comforting aroma of the coffee shop by the gift store. The rest of the library opened up five stories high. Windows at the top illuminated the magnificent towering bookshelves with rays of sunlight, as if the heavens blessed the sanctity of the institution.

  Raising a hand to his brow, Cooper appreciated the vast forest of knowledge. Though he hadn’t been to a library in at least a decade, he knew the value of the history surrounding him. Unlike the college students occupying the rows of long tables, studying and highlighting on their dataplates. Maybe they came for the peaceful atmosphere, or maybe they thought being surrounded by such a wealth of knowledge would rub off on them. Reading online couldn’t compare to feeling the pages and seeing how much physical space the information occupied.

  Mixing the present with the past, a robotic arm traveled up and down the end of each bookcase, then whizzed across the correct shelf to retrieve a certain book by scanning the codes on the spines. So different from the libraries Cooper went to as a kid, or even as a law student.

  Among the long tables, cozy sitting areas with sofas and chairs invited patrons to sit and read. Visitors lounged in nostalgia, curling up with an old hardcover or paperback on a comfortable couch. Must be nice. If he sat on one, he’d forget his troubles and fall asleep.

  Shaking his head, Cooper went to work. He took a seat at one of the public compucenter terminals to begin his search. Regardless of who watched him, he had to start online. It was the only way to search for a book. Knowing more about plantations in general would help him understand what he was getting into. To throw off his observers, he searched for books about legendary Southern plantation histories and supernatural sightings, hopeful he might find a layout of the Creator’s plantation compound.

  Several of the plantations boasted ghost stories and secret passages, an interesting, though remote, possibility he filed away for further investigation. Finishing up, he localized his search to Georgia and included ancient lore, the Civil War, and slave escapes.

  When Cooper logged into the library’s computer, Nate opened a new frame to show the searches to the guest audience in Ed’s office.

  “What is he doing?” asked Mr. Saffioti, squinting at the image. Maybe he needed a new pair of eyes.

  “He’s reading about plantations and hauntings,” Mrs. Jones said with a sigh.

  “What for?”

  “Maybe he wants to see a ghost.” She smirked.

  Ray pouted at her.

  “Look. Now he’s searching for the Creator’s plantation,” Nate said.

  Noting books of interest, Cooper next pulled up books with layouts, maps, or floor plans of the old plantations. Finally, he specified books including the Beasley Hills Plantation, the Creator’s residence. Once he had several selected, he sent the list to a librarian aide. Working her magic, she retrieved the books for him.

  As she piled the last tome on top of his stack, Cooper grunted. He had forgotten how heavy books could be. He chose a remote table, as far from the observing video cameras as possible. And since most of the books here were too old to be online, having them in hard copy form let him study in depth without peepers reading along with him.

  “What is he doing? I can’t see,” Mr. Saffioti complained, standing on his tiptoes.

  “Ray, he’s just reading.” Mrs. Jones shook her head. “Relax. He’s not going to find anything.”

  Nate nodded in agreement. If Mr. Saffioti wasn’t so underhanded, he wouldn’t have to be so nervous. Mr. Saffioti should be the most confident about the plantation’s infallibility, since he oversaw the reconstruction and fortification of it.

  “That’s right. There is really nothing to be concerned about, Mr. Saffioti. The plantation is one hundred percent secure. And Agent Geri Harper is sitting close by. Look past the next table over,” Ed said.

  “Oh? Where is he?” Mr. Saffioti asked, squinting at the scene again.

  “She is right there.” Ed used his laser pointer to circle a striking woman in her early thirties with wavy auburn hair held back by a white scarf. Geri sat on a couch behind Cooper, reading a book about interior design while subtly keeping an eye on him.

  “Okay. I see her. Shouldn’t she find out what he’s doing? Talk to him? We don’t need any more lapses of information, right?” Mr. Saffioti glared at Ed.

  Ed stared back for a moment, then turned to Mrs. Jones.

  She nodded.

  “Certainly, Mr. Saffioti. Nate, tell Geri to move in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Nate pushed a button on his headset and spoke. “Agent Geri, approach.”

  They watched Geri look at the camera and smooth an eyebrow, signaling she understood. Cooper hadn’t moved from flipping his pages, poring over the books. Geri
slowly rose and organized her things. She had on a crisp white, short-sleeved, collared shirt, Capri jeans, and tennis shoes. Her cover was a divorced housewife going back to school as an interior design major.

  Wading through page after page of historic plantations, Cooper paused to sniff the air as a pleasant, flowery scent crept up on him. A slight rustling behind him confirmed his hunch of a woman stealing a glance over his shoulder. Maybe she’ll keep go—

  “Excuse me. But is that Grand Ol’ Southern Plantations? I say. I believe my great-great-great-great-granddaddy’s ancestral home is in that book,” she said with a thick drawl.

  —ing. No such luck. Cooper frowned and kept his head down, not wanting to acknowledge her. He held a hand up to shade his eyes, blocking her like a glare, and scooted the chair away from the sweet-smelling intruder.

  “Oh.” He hoped his body language would give her a hint to leave him alone.

  “Hee-ya, let me show you.” She reached to turn the page and paused. “May I?”

  As if he had a choice. He held up his hands, keeping his eyes averted.

  Cooper’s pulse quickened with every second of her presence. Not only did he feel the force of her unwarranted attention, his body reacted involuntarily to her softness pressing up against him, reminding him of the fact he hadn’t been this close to a woman in years.

  Cooper squirmed in his seat to escape her arousing touch. Finally giving in to his curiosity, he glanced up and noticed she had electrifying green eyes, which added to his distraction. He transferred his glance to the wall and scooted his chair back to let her rifle through his book. Maybe when she found what she was searching for, she would be on her way.

  Flipping over a few more pages, she stood back and put her hand out to present her proof. “They-ah. Isn’t it breathtakin’?”

  Cooper gave a curt nod.

  “Sure. It’s very nice,” he answered. You can go now. He needed to keep working. He didn’t have time to make new friends, no matter how attractive. He forgot how to make small talk and feared he’d be tongue-tied and look like a fool. He scooted farther back to give her room to leave. But she would not take the hint.

  “Are you a historian? I’m a plantation buff myself.” She put a hand on her chest as she admired his stack of books and stepped closer to him.

  “No. Not really.” Why won’t she go away? Can’t she see I’m busy here? Cooper picked up another book and stuck his nose in it. He was running out of cues to give her to show he wasn’t interested.

  “You sure have a lot of books there. Were you lookin’ for somethin’ in particular? Maybe I could help.” She picked up another one and leafed through it.

  Cooper hated to be rude, but had no idea how to get rid of her in a nice way. Maybe he could go hide in another part of the library or the men’s room and come back later.

  “You know, I was just about done. You can look at them.”

  Cooper rose from his chair and bumped into her, spilling her bag filled with books and papers all over the floor. Great. I don’t have time for this.

  “Oh! I’m so clumsy!” she exclaimed. They both bent down and gathered her things.

  “Sorry, miss,” Cooper mumbled. He gritted his teeth in frustration at his pimply-teenager nervousness. He couldn’t fathom his awkwardness and concentrated on each item he picked up so he wouldn’t drop them all again.

  “It’s Geri. Geri Harper.” Still crouched on the floor, she offered him her delicate hand.

  He looked at it. If I shake hands with her, I’ll surely have to talk more. But only a jerk would blow her off, so he shook her hand. She had a firm grip, cushioned by smooth, creamy skin. His gaze wandered up her dainty arm to her lovely, sun-blushed face. He blinked. She was stunning. Mesmerized by those intense green eyes, he had to wrestle his name out.

  “Uh, Jameson Layton Cooper,” he finally said and let go of her hand. Under her captivating spell, he unintentionally gave his full name. She grinned.

  “As in J.L.? Why that’s precious! It’s nice to meet you all, J.L.” She beamed at him as they stood up.

  “Likewise,” he replied, not bothering to correct her with his nickname. He’d probably never see her again.

  Glancing at his stack of books, he yearned to get back to work and frowned in frustration. Of course he would meet a beautiful, captivating woman during the only case he couldn’t blow off. Not to mention, he could be putting her in danger just talking to her. She finished repacking her bag and gave a little sigh, with a tease of cleavage. Torture.

  “Well, I have to be goin’ now. Sorry if I’ve kept you from your work. Thanks for your help, J.L.,” she said.

  The flutter of her eyes tempted him again as she slowly turned to leave. Perfect curves, too.

  “What is she doing? Is she going?” Mr. Saffioti asked. He looked ready to jump into the imager and spin her around. He was confused and faithless.

  Ed put up a hand.

  “Just wait a minute, Ray.”

  Cooper watched her walk away, relieved. And at the same time, disappointed. If she’s a plantation buff, she might be able to help me sift through this stuff. Maybe she could save me some time.

  “Uh, Miss Harper?”

  Geri winked at the web cam, then turned back to Cooper.

  “Oh, she’s good,” Nate said.

  They all looked at him.

  “Call me Geri.” She grinned.

  “Would you have a few minutes? I suppose I could use an expert on plantations. To help me with my research.”

  “Why sure! I’d love to!”

  “We could go over to the coffee shop. My treat.” Cooper gathered his books.

  “That sounds wonderful. I was only goin’ home to study for a quiz, is all. I’d much rather converse about the Old South.” She linked her arm in his.

  “Great,” he replied. Her boldness and appeal still made him uneasy, but she seemed eager to help. Spending a little more time with her wouldn’t hurt. If she had any information, it could save him hours of random searching. They walked toward the lobby.

  “This is good!” Mr. Saffioti exclaimed. “Now we can see what he’s really up to. It seems you do have things under control here, Ed. You were right. He doesn’t appear to be much of a threat.”

  Nate smirked at Mr. Saffioti’s snap judgment of Cooper’s mild manner and clumsy conversation. Always looking for an easy way out. He probably didn’t read the bio.

  “Excellent,” Mrs. Jones said with a satisfied smile. She stood up and pointed at Ed. “Be sure to let us know if you discover whether he has any evidence or discovers anything of importance. And I’ll want to see a report from the agent at Mr. Cooper’s office as well.”

  “Will do, ma’am.”

  Mr. Saffioti and Mrs. Jones shook hands with Ed and said their goodbyes. They followed an assistant back to the FBI transport room to pop back to their offices.

  When they were gone, Ed plunked down in his chair with a grunt and gave Nate some final instructions.

  “Keep watching Cooper. And let me know what Lipton finds out as soon as he reports in. Good work.”

  Nate raised his eyebrows, happy to receive a scarce attaboy from Ed.

  “Thanks, boss. You got it.”

  Walnut Grove, GA

  1:00 p.m., Thursday, July 25

  ared pulled Miki closer. They kissed with growing intensity on the lumpy couch. Miki lost all common sense in her boyfriend’s embrace, until he tried to lay her down and she felt a spring poke her in the back. She broke free and pushed him away, mad at herself for giving in to his temptation.

  She straightened her blouse. She was at work, after all.

  “Aww. Come on, Miki.” Jared begged. He gave her his sweet pout and batted his lashes over those big brown eyes.

  “No! Someone might come in!” She gave him a stern look. As she tried to stand up, he grabbed her arm and pleaded some more.

  “Coop is out of town. No one is coming in. This sleepy, little town never sees any action.”
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  She looked down her nose at his large hand holding her wrist and noticed his skinny arms were surprisingly strong, as was the draw of his full lips, wearing that playful grin. Two years younger than Miki, he demonstrated his immaturity as he tried to peek down her shirt.

  Sometimes she wondered why she put up with his childishness. Wresting her arm free, she walked over to her desk.

  “And neither do I,” he mumbled. His mouth turned down into an attention-starved-puppy frown.

  “You can wait until after work.” Boys. She looked at her imager and pretended to type.

  “Aw. How about a sneak preview?” he asked.

  Really? Did he know no decency? She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Pleeease? Just to tide me over,” he begged with his hands clasped out to her.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this. She rolled her eyes and stood up. She gave him a quick flash, covered back up, and sat down.

  “Woo-hoo!” Jared cheered and raised his arms.

  The door swung open. Ah! They both gasped and froze.

  An older gentleman in a dark suit entered.

  Good thing this stranger hadn’t walked in two seconds sooner. Miki glanced at Jared.

  He gave her a sheepish smile and shrugged. Slouching down, he pulled his hood over his head and turned on his music. He should feel guilty, serves him right.

  Miki straightened her shirt and greeted the visitor.

  “Hello, sir,” she said with a pleasant smile. “May I help you?”

  “Hello. Yes. Um. Is Mr. Cooper available?” he asked. His broad shoulders and tall stature contrasted with his timid voice and white-gray hair.

  “No. I’m afraid he’s out of town on a case,” she replied.

  “Oh.” He looked down at his shoes. He seemed disappointed. Then he met her eyes and asked, “Will he be back today?”

  “He didn’t say. What was it in regards to?” she asked in her most professional tone. Most of their clients were locals, so she hadn’t had much practice proper business etiquette.