The Time Travelers' Club -- Chapter 91: Dreda

Dreda felt ill.  She was so over this whole unknown plot of Dr. Herkeimer's.  She despised his nonsense.  Laying in the yard outside, she finally had some time away to think.  The sky was clear.  The grass was soft.  She sat up.

I have to find out which one of them did it.  Her rage built up for a moment before she calmed back down.  One of you did it.  And you will get yours.

Dreda shook her head.   I can't think about it now.

Besides, that wasn't the real reason she had formed an allegiance with the Doctor.  It was much more.  She reached down and picked up a twig, snapping it in two.  She could still see him, sitting across from her at the bistro in Paris.  Dr. Herkeimer had approached her when she was an art student.

"Don't worry, we'll get the one that did it," said Dr. Herkeimer, charming and reassuring her.  "But more importantly, what I have here may be of more interest to you."

Dr. Herkeimer pulled a plain white legal-sized envelope out of his coat pocket.  He held it with both hands as he ran his fingers down its sides.

"This contains a much better reason for you to join me.  A secret that would bring you down.  Something that would affect your parent's... well... health, I might add."  Dr. Herkeimer crept his way around her, still running his fingers along the sides of the envelope.

Without looking at him, Dreda leaned forward.  "What would that be?"

"Let's just say, Santiago last summer wasn't your best vacation, was it?"

A skinny waiter filled their water glasses and moved on.

Closing her eyes, Dreda knew what he referred to.  "That was not my fault.  You have no proof.  Nothing whatsoever to connect me to that."  She glared at him.

"Regardless, Mommy and Daddy aren't going to like what have we in the envelope.  And more importantly, neither is the International Council."  His voice went from sweet to stern by the end of the sentence.  "But then there is that other issue."

He meant Pavel.

Now, outside the Doctor's mansion, Dreda needed time to think.  She walked around the dormant gardens behind the mansion, out of sight from prying eyes.   Eyeing the partly cloudy sky, she turned her attention to a small window at the base of the mansion's wall.

Down there, she thought.  Somewhere down there is that safe.  I could turn the tables.