A Rip in Time (Out of Time #7) by Monique Martin

should go to Paris.”
    She frowned and tilted her head to the side as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “I’m sorry?”  
    “Until this is over.” Victor walked over to his little dresser and eyed the small bottle of whisky he’d bought yesterday. “You are in the way.”
    “We were…” Simon started and searched for a word his ego could handle, “surprised tonight. It won’t happen again.”
    “If it does, I will not be there to see it,” Victor said. “Do you understand? I will not risk the mission—”
    Simon stood and faced him. “Unless you’ve forgotten, finding Jack the Ripper is our mission.”
    Victor arched an eyebrow. “You are doing a fine job of it.”
    Simon took a step forward, but Elizabeth moved between them. “Same team, guys.”
    Victor snorted. “We are not a team .”
    She turned to him, her blue eyes sparking fiercely before she subdued them. “We’re on the same side. And we’re going to need each other before this over. Katherine Vale, who by the way, is ten kinds of crazy, did something to change time. To. Change. Time.”
    She looked over at her husband and then back to Victor. “Even if we weren’t chasing one of the most notorious serial killers in history, shouldn’t that be enough for you two to stop this bickering and at least try to work together?”
    Simon said nothing and just continued to eye him warily.  
    Victor ignored him and scowled at Elizabeth. She was, however, not the least bit cowed. It was disconcerting.
    He did not work with others. His job was something he was uniquely qualified to do. It required someone with nothing left to lose, except perhaps, his soul. For him, it may have been too late even for that.
    Regardless, he thought with growing bitterness, his part of the mission would not come to pass if they failed in theirs. And judging from tonight, they would not be put off.  
    “You were in over your head tonight. A rich man among ruffians,” he said, getting the desired blustery reaction from Cross.  
    He smiled and continued. “While I am better suited to these sorts of people,” he said, hating to admit it, “you will be welcome in places I will not.”
    Simon glared at him, trying to fathom just what he meant. Victor saw the exact moment the light bulb switched on.  
    Simon nodded, forgoing more sparring for the moment. “Quite a few of the suspects were…upper class?”
    Victor smirked and nodded. He was from a small village. He had no interest in the finer things in life and they no interest in him.
    “Without witnessing the crime,” Simon continued, his wheels finally spinning in the right direction, “we’ll have to rely on old fashioned detective work, I suppose.”  
    “We should divide the suspects,” Victor suggested.
    “You take the East End and we’ll take the West?” Elizabeth asked.
    Victor grunted in agreement. It might not be the best solution, but it would keep them occupied and, perhaps, they would even stumble upon something helpful.
    “I suppose that’s logical,” Simon conceded. “Agreed”
    “Voilà,” Victor said to Elizabeth, spreading his arms. “Détente.”

Chapter Nine

    S IMON EASED HIMSELF UP out of the cool bath, his ribs aching with the effort. He probed his side. Sore, but not life threatening. Somehow, that did little to ease his mind.
    “Pathetic,” he muttered and snatched a towel off the rack.  
    He toweled himself off roughly, clenching his jaw and ignoring the discomfort as he did. Tossing the towel aside, he grabbed a pair of drawers, pulled them on, and loosely tied the drawstring as he headed for the bedroom.  
    Elizabeth sat on the bed, a tray of food in front of her. “I liberated some things from the kitchen.”
    Simon forced a smile and moved to join her.  
    She held up a scone. “Cranberry or original recipe?”  
    Despite his best efforts to conceal his discomfort as he climbed onto the bed, Elizabeth noticed. “Maybe you should see a doctor?”
    She reached