Time Spell by T.A. Foster

Author:T.A. Foster [Foster, T.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal
Publisher: T.A. Foster
Published: 2014-03-21T16:00:00+00:00

A few hours later, we were boarded on our flight and headed west to Las Vegas. Jack sat next to me, searching for VonRue diamond information on his tablet and grumbling about legroom. I watched clouds race past us at 30,000 feet, and for the first time in thirty-six hours, I closed my eyes to sleep.

THE BAGGAGE claim buzzed with spring break kids already tipsy from their flights, and bachelorette party girls donned in boas, eyeing infamous bachelor party guys dressed in cutoff shorts and T-shirts. Then, there was the average American tourist who had saved up $1,000 for a once-a-year vacation, ready to throw it all on lucky number seven.

I fought through the crowd to stand by the baggage carousel. Jack was already out front hailing a cab. He had offered to fight the onslaught of Vegas newbies for me, but I insisted transportation would be more important once I made my way out of the airport. We traveled well together, at least what parts I remembered.

Once the wheels reached the end of the runway and we launched into the air, I slept almost the entire way. I woke only once to sip on half a cup of a diet soda and nibble on a pack of vanilla cookies Jack had convinced the flight attendant to leave on my tray. I don’t think he slept during the trip. He had that editor look in his eyes—focused and determined to find the answers that would link all of the information together. Thank goodness we had Wi-Fi on the plane so he could work while I slept.

Right on cue, Jack waited by the curb with a taxi as I passed through the sliding doors of the baggage claim exit. Trying not to inhale the toxic combination of diesel fumes from buses and tobacco clouds from meandering smokers, I coughed as I walked to the car. I handed my suitcase to Jack, and climbed in the backseat. He tried to explain to the bearded driver that we were staying at the Starlight, but the man kept pointing to the marquee on top of his cab. It was an advertisement for the new glitzy hotels. Jack assured him the Starlight was our place.

I stretched out in the backseat and placed my leather bag in my lap as the man veered through the curly cues of the Las Vegas airport exit. We were headed to old Vegas, and I could tell our driver was disappointed he didn’t get to show off the new razzle-dazzle of the Vegas strip. I pulled my sunglasses down and squinted at the brightness of the desert sun. Even after all of my research and work on Vegas Star, I was still amazed that the desert was the best place the early developers of the 1940s chose to start this resort-style city.

“Thank you, sir.” The man bowed to Jack while accepting his tip. He jumped in the cab and headed straight back to the airport. I hoped his next group was interested in the glittery strip he wanted to show off.

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