If She Had Stayed

By Diane Byington

Sometimes the past is better left alone.

Kaley Kline is thrilled to have landed a job as director of the new Tesla Museum in Colorado Springs. To make the museum successful, she searches for undiscovered works to display. When she finds an old safe that might have been Tesla's, she's shocked to find some diary pages supposedly written by the inventor himself. 

Kaley initially thinks either that the journal is a fraud or Tesla was experiencing a nervous breakdown when he wrote it. However, if his experiments were real, the world will never be the same. She decides to secretly build Tesla's time machine and attempt to go back into her own life to change a decision she has always regretted. 

She prepares for a trip to the past, not knowing whether she will electrocute herself or travel back to the Boulder of her sophomore year in college. But an old boyfriend might have hidden some secrets from her—secrets that could have her fighting for her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Adept Publishing
• Release date: Feb 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393582946

Diane Byington

Diane Byington has been a tenured college professor, yoga teacher, psychotherapist, and executive coach. Also, she raised goats for fiber and once took a job cooking hot dogs for a NASCAR event. She still enjoys spinning and weaving, but she hasn’t eaten a hot dog or watched a car race since.   Besides reading and writing, Diane loves to hike, kayak, and photograph sunsets. She and her husband divide their time between Boulder, Colorado, and the small Central Florida town they discovered while doing research for her novel.

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If She Had Stayed

Red Adept Publishing, LLC

104 Bugenfield Court

Garner, NC 27529

http://RedAdeptPublishing.com/

Copyright © 2020 by Diane Byington. All rights reserved.

FIRST PRINT EDITION: February 2020

Cover Art by Streetlight Graphics

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Time of the Season

Struggling to keep her teeth from chattering, Kaley pushed on one of the back windows of the dilapidated Victorian home where Nikola Tesla had once lived. The hinge let out a loud squeak, and she froze. The houses were close together in that part of Colorado Springs, and a neighbor might call the police.

As the seconds ticked by, she considered what she should do if a police officer appeared around the corner of the old house. She was a fast runner, but no one could outrun a bullet. Fear flooded her chest, and her heart hammered, but uppermost in her mind was how embarrassed she would be if she had to call one of her friends to post bail for her.

After another long moment with no sign that she’d been caught, Kaley’s heartbeat returned to normal. She’d come too far to stop. She placed a concrete block beneath the window, grabbed her flashlight and other tools, and hoisted herself over the sill.

A thrill ran up her spine. She’d never done anything illegal before, but she couldn’t miss the opportunity to possibly discover something of Tesla’s that no one else had found. She’d waited months for the previous tenant to move out, and the landlord had shown her the house that morning.

After looking around for a bit, she’d said, Three thousand seems a little steep for this old neighborhood. Would you consider twenty-three hundred? Even at that rate, she’d have to get roommates, which she was reluctant to do. She liked her privacy. Still, she would do it if she had to.

He laughed. I just put up the sign yesterday, and five other people have already called to see it. I’m showing it to someone else in an hour if you don’t want it.

She took a breath. Has anybody found any Tesla artifacts here?

Not in the ten years that I’ve owned the house. If he’d left anything, it would have been snatched up years ago. Every single tenant asks about it, and I tell them all the same thing, but they think they’ll discover something no one else has found. He shrugged. Everybody’s got a fantasy, you know?

Kaley started to tell him she wasn’t a dreamer but a historian, and she needed the artifacts for the Tesla museum she hoped to open, not for her own personal glory. Ultimately, she decided not to give him any more information about herself.

Tesla was known for hiding his inventions in places where his enemies, real or imagined, couldn’t find them. Also, he preferred numbers that were divisible by three. Since his house number was 1533, it seemed like the perfect place to start her search.

Walking through the house with the landlord, she’d noticed that the window over the kitchen sink was open an inch, and a different plan started to form. I’ll have to think about it and call you back.

He shrugged. Don’t think too long.

When she called the landlord back in the afternoon, the house had been rented. The new tenant was planning to move in the next day, so she decided she had to break in that night.

She’d called Kevin, her boyfriend. They’d planned to drive up to Vail later that evening, spend the night in a fancy hotel, and ski their hearts out the next day—the last day of the ski season. I’m so sorry, but I can’t go with you tonight. I need to do something for work.

Tonight? What could be that important? We’ve had this trip planned for weeks.

See, I need to break into Tesla’s old house and—

"Whoa! You need to break into a house? For God’s sake, why would you do that?"

She took a breath. I know it sounds crazy, and I would never do something like this if it weren’t necessary. The previous tenant moved out yesterday, and the new one will move in tomorrow, so it’s my only chance to get in and search the house.

"It doesn’t sound crazy—it is crazy. What are you looking for, anyway? I know it has to do with Tesla, but what, specifically?" He was starting to sound more than mildly annoyed.

I-I’m not sure. Probably something to do with an undiscovered invention.

He was quiet for a long moment. She knew to give him time. He was lightning fast when doing karate, but he always chose his words carefully. It was one of her favorite things about him. He truly meant what he said.

So you’re telling me you want to break into this house and steal whatever you find. Is that right?

Not exactly.

What, exactly?

I’d ask the owner if I could put it in the museum. It would bring in lots of visitors, and I’d get to—

Keep your job. Yeah, I know how that goes. He exhaled sharply. I’m not going to get into an argument about this. You’ll do what you want. But I’ve really been looking forward to this trip with you. There won’t be another time to ski this season.

He was making things harder than necessary. Yes, skiing was fun, and she always enjoyed being with him. But the opportunity was too important to miss. I’m sorry, sweetie. I just can’t. Maybe I could come up tomorrow around lunchtime, after I get some sleep.

No. That won’t work. You’d miss most of the day, and I’d hang around waiting for you instead of skiing. Annoyance filled his tone. Suit yourself, but I’m going without you. And don’t call me if you get arrested. He ended the call.

She knew he got irritated when she put work above their plans, but she didn’t do it often. She was willing to bet that he would be proud of her if—no, when—she found a new Tesla artifact, a treasure to share with the world. I’m sorry, Kevin. I’ll make it up to you, she’d said to the dead line.

Standing in the ancient kitchen, Kaley stood up and turned on her flashlight. She imagined Tesla walking through the rooms as he pondered an experiment with electricity or went to heat a kettle on the stove.

She started her search by methodically knocking on every wall to listen for any odd hollow places. When that didn’t net anything, she paced every room on both floors, measuring from the walls in increments of three feet and tapping her foot to check for trapdoors.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she happened upon a loose floorboard in a second-floor bedroom that was fifteen feet from the east wall and three feet from the south. Using her crowbar, she pried it up. Inside a small recess was a leather satchel like the ones doctors had used in the nineteenth century, with handles on top and a strap with a clasp. Holding her breath, she lifted it out, opened it, and shined her flashlight inside. The bag was filled with dusty newspapers. She gently removed them and laid them out on the floor.

The papers were all editions of the Colorado Springs Gazette, dated 1899 and 1900, which were the years Tesla had lived in the house. She took a deep breath and grinned. The landlord had been wrong. The previous tenants hadn’t found everything. Moving carefully so as not to cause the old paper to crumble, she unfolded the earliest one. On the front page was an article titled Mr. Tesla to Build Lab in Town.

She scanned the dozen newspapers and found that all of them had articles featuring Tesla in some way. The most intriguing article was Tesla Fails to Appear for Speech at Inventors’ Club. Apparently, Mr. Tesla had been missing for about a week at that time. He’d eventually turned up, so it hadn’t become a major news story.

The only unusual things she discovered were a few handwritten letters in the margin of one of the newspapers. They didn’t spell anything, though, even when she tried to treat them as an anagram.

Sitting back on her heels, she considered what she’d found. As exciting as it was to come across something new, the newspapers were not a major discovery. The articles were accessible to anyone who cared to check the Gazette’s archives. There was no way to know how the papers had gotten into the satchel or whether they had been put there by Tesla or someone else. She decided to take them with her and display them in the museum when it opened, even though they wouldn’t be much of a draw.

Figuring that if previous tenants had overlooked one thing, there might be more, she hammered the floorboard back down and continued searching. When she heard birds announcing the approaching dawn, she had to admit defeat. She had wasted a perfectly good ski trip for very little gain.

Holding the satchel and her tools, she climbed out the kitchen window and gently closed it behind her. She would have to consider whether it was worth telling the landlord about the newspapers. Probably not. Many old houses contained vintage newspapers, and nobody cared.

THE NEXT EVENING, AFTER a long nap and a good workout, she called Kevin. To her surprise, he answered on the first ring. He even seemed happy to hear from her.

She did her best to sound upbeat. How was the skiing?

He sighed. It was okay. It would’ve been better with you, though. How was the breaking and entering?

Not great. I didn’t find anything worthwhile, just some old newspapers. When he didn’t respond, she continued. I’m really sorry I didn’t go with you. The whole thing was a bust. I missed spending the time with you.

A long moment later, he said, Well, that’s good, I guess.

In spite of his hesitation, the call was going better than she could have hoped. Would you like to come over tonight? I could give you a nice massage.

No. After a pause, he said, But you could come over here. I’m showered and ready for bed, and you could snuggle with me.

Sure. I’ll be right there. She breathed a sigh of relief. She had pulled that one out, apparently.

Chapter 2

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

Three weeks later, Kaley’s cell phone rang as she was dressing to go on a bike ride with Kevin. Friday was his day off, so they tried to do something together on those mornings.

Hello. This is Kaley Kline.

Ms. Kline, I’m Rachel Jones, General Pomeroy’s assistant. You had an appointment with the general on Monday. Something has come up, but he can give you half an hour if you arrive by nine o’clock this morning. Otherwise, I’m not sure when he’ll be available.

Her boss, Noah, had gotten her the meeting with the retired Air Force general, who was a potential major donor for the museum. She’d waited a month for that appointment.

Kaley looked at her watch. Eight fifteen. Shit. Sure, that’s fine. She hurriedly said goodbye then hung up.

Kevin would not be happy with her, but she needed to go to that appointment. She called him immediately, and when he answered, she said, I’m sorry, babe, but I need to reschedule our bike ride. Could we go this afternoon instead?

After a silence, he sighed. What is it this time?

Oh, a potential donor had to change his appointment from Monday to this morning. But it shouldn’t take too long. Could we go at one instead?

No, sorry. The afternoon is entirely booked. I blocked out all morning for us, but apparently our time together isn’t as important to you as it is to me.

"Oh, give me a break. You’re not being fair. I have to take this appointment. If this afternoon’s not an option, what about tomorrow morning?"

I don’t know. I’ll call you later. He paused and his voice softened. I’m sorry to be such a grump. I know it’s a workday for you. It’s just...

What?

I was looking forward to seeing you. We haven’t been together in almost a week.

Aw, that’s sweet. We’ll do it another day, I promise. Gotta go. Hope to see you tomorrow.

She ran for the shower. Afterward, she twisted her long black hair into a bun and slapped on some makeup. On the drive, she rehearsed her speech. This meeting could make the difference between success and failure for the museum, and she needed to get everything right.

Her GPS guided her to a well-to-do area in the foothills. When she turned off the main street, she had to go about a half mile down the driveway before the house came into view. She paused for a moment to take it in: tall windows, gingerbread trim, wraparound porch, and even a turret. She parked in the driveway beside a Cadillac and walked to the front door. The doorbell’s chime echoed through the house when she pressed the button.

A middle-aged woman wearing a suit that probably cost five times as much as Kaley’s opened the door. Hello, she said, smiling. I’m Rachel. General Pomeroy isn’t feeling well, but he’ll see you for a few minutes. Please understand that he’s in a lot of pain, but his mind is sharp.

Kaley followed Rachel into the living room, which was filled with moving boxes. A very old man with a white moustache was propped up on the sofa. A crocheted afghan covered his lap, and a Siamese cat stood on it. The cat gazed at her for a moment then lay back down.

I’ll leave you two alone, Rachel said then headed back out the door.

Hello, young lady. The general’s deep voice sounded like the slow croak of a weary frog. Noah said you’d be coming, but he didn’t say you’d be so pretty.

Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, General. Kaley smiled and walked over to shake the trembling hand that appeared from beneath the afghan. Noah was the best boss she’d ever had. He would never mention her looks, even to a good friend. He was totally professional at all times, which was why she adored him.

The general cleared his throat. I understand you want money. Well, do your best to convince me. I’m moving to a nursing home soon, and this place is going on the market. As you can see, I don’t have long. He started to laugh, but then he winced. When she hesitated, he gestured for her to start.

She moved a half-full box from a wing chair and sat down. "As you know from the materials I sent you, the North American Tesla Society is working to open a museum in Colorado Springs that will be dedicated to Nikola Tesla. Tesla lived here for nine months and did some important work during that time.

His laboratory was located near the present-day Memorial Park. Unfortunately, the lab was demolished a few years after he left. We’ve leased a warehouse on Galley Road that we’re turning into a replica of his lab. It’ll also be our museum.

He nodded. I’m familiar with the area. Good choice.

Noah hired me to direct the development effort. I’m also the acting director of the museum. She threw out a quick smile. Thinking about keeping the job permanently and getting a raise always made her happy. We’re doing our best to collect as many of Tesla’s inventions as possible. Also, the museum will exhibit a fully functional Tesla coil as well as a retracting roof similar to the one in his original laboratory. We hope to open next January, but we need a few more donors. Everyone who donates will be recognized by having their name engraved on a plaque inside the museum. We’re hoping you’ll be willing to contribute. She pulled a packet from her bag and placed it on the table in front of him. This is our business plan. Shall I elaborate now or after you’ve read it?

The general stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. Eventually, he raised his head from the cushion and looked at her over his glasses. Did you know that Tesla’s lawyer once lived in this house?

Surprised, she shook her head.

The lawyer’s grandson sold it to me twenty-five years ago.

As she tried to decide how to respond, his head fell back onto the cushion, and his eyes closed. He began to snore.

Kaley wasn’t sure what to do. She had only a half-hour appointment, and she’d hoped to convince him to make a large donation. Given his obvious health concerns, she decided to wait a few minutes. If he didn’t wake up, she would clear her throat or make some kind of noise.

She’d been about to tell him that her grandfather had been Tesla’s waiter at the Hotel New Yorker, where the great man had lived and eaten dinner every night in his last years. Both men were Serbian immigrants, so they had become friends.

She only had two more months on her contract. Getting pledges for the remaining four hundred thousand in such a short time would be an uphill battle. If she hit the target, she would be named the permanent executive director. If not, she would have to go back to pounding the pavement to find a new job, the story of her life. Thirty-five years of not living up to her potential didn’t seem to be changing.

Her phone pinged, and she quickly pulled it out and checked it. A text from Kevin: Biking’s great. You missed out.

Uh-oh. He hadn’t added any smiling emojis or words of endearment. Hopefully, he would get over being mad soon. She didn’t want to lose her relationship over a cancelled bike ride. She texted back: Glad you had a good time. Sorry I missed it. Can’t wait to hear about it. She planned to make it up to him by offering to go on a long hike over the weekend.

She turned off her phone, stood, and walked to the window. The general’s house overlooked the Garden of the Gods, an enormous park filled with towering sandstone rock formations that stood beneath Pike’s Peak. She promised herself a walk among the red rocks before she went home.

On a side table to her left sat a photograph of a much younger General Pomeroy standing in front of a Christmas tree with a pretty woman and two teenage boys. The boys, with their blond hair and sparkling blue-green eyes, reminded Kaley of her college boyfriend, Scott, and his older brother, Brian.

Tears started to form, and she blinked them away. It was definitely not the time or place to be thinking about what might have been. She needed to focus on the future. So she sat down, pulled Noah’s list of potential donors out of her bag, and started making notes.

About five minutes later, the general opened his eyes. When he shifted, the cat jumped off his lap and ran toward the door, which Rachel had left open a few inches. The general coughed and seemed to be struggling to breathe.

Kaley stood up. Should I get Rachel?

He nodded. And... cat, he whispered through gritted teeth.

Kaley ran out of the room and called for Rachel. The woman hurried out of a room across the hall and rushed to the general’s side. Kaley went looking for the cat and eventually found him under the kitchen table. She got down on her hands and knees, gently cupped the cat’s middle, and pulled him to her. In an instant, he was purring against her chest. A rush of warmth spread through her. She’d never owned a pet. Maybe she should get a cat instead of trying for a relationship.

When Kaley returned to the living room, the general appeared to be breathing more easily with the help of an oxygen cannula in his nose. Rachel was still hovering over him.

He smiled as Kaley settled the cat onto his lap. Thank you for coming, young lady. He took a difficult breath between each word. I’ll consider your request. He gestured toward the other side of the room.

Rachel walked over and slid a few boxes out of the way, revealing a small antique safe a couple of feet tall. The workmen found this yesterday in a corner of the attic. General Pomeroy wants to donate it to your museum. We think it was from around the turn of the last century. It probably doesn’t have anything to do with Tesla, but we weren’t sure what else to do with it.

Kaley squatted down in front of the safe and ran her hand over it. The greenish cast-iron cube had the words Victor of Cincinnati printed above the dial. She jiggled the handle, but the door remained closed.

Rachel said, We couldn’t get it open, and the combination wasn’t written anywhere that we could find. She grinned. There was a note that had probably been taped to it. It said the safe was boobytrapped and that it would blow up if someone tried to force it open. Probably something the attorney made up to warn off burglars.

Kaley nodded. Victor safes had been popular in the late 1800s, so it could have been from Tesla’s time. She reached down to try to pick it up, but it was far too heavy.

I’ve arranged for it to be delivered to your museum this afternoon, if you want it. Rachel headed back to the couch. The general asks that you not ruin the safe by drilling into it or otherwise marring it.

Kaley nodded. Sure, I’d love to have it. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get it open. Even if it’s not associated with Tesla, it’ll make a good story. She turned to the general, but he had fallen asleep again.

Don’t worry, Rachel said. He sleeps a lot these days. I’ll let you know what he decides about the donation. You’ve got a good chance.

Please thank him for seeing me. And thank you for the safe. I’ll let you know what I find if I can get it open.

Chapter 3

Good Times Roll

Kaley tried everything to open the safe.

An internet search revealed that opening Victor safes was no small feat. The numbers on the dial went from zero to one hundred, and the combination would be four or five numbers, so there were millions, maybe even billions, of possibilities. Opening them involved numerous turns of the dial in both directions. And then there was the possibility that it might explode if forced open.

She spent hours searching the internet for a specialist. Finally, she found a man in Massachusetts who was willing to talk to her. He sounded as old as the safe. But he had opened Victor safes without combinations before, and that was all that mattered.

Usually, there are four or five numbers in the combination. You’ll need to figure out what they could be. The combination needs to be easy for the person who chooses it and hard for anyone else. Many people choose their birthdays in some combination of day, month, and year. Sometimes, people choose birthdays of loved ones. Or it could be something like ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. You’ll need to try numbers that might be important to the person who owned the safe.

Okay, she said. How do I try them? She’d been writing down everything he said.

The technique is usually to turn the dial four times to the left until it reaches the first number, then three times to the right for the second number, two times to the left for the third number, and finally to the right until you get to the last number. Of course, if it’s a five-number combination, you would start with five turns. If that doesn’t work, try beginning to the right. Sometimes Victor did that too.

Thanks for your time.

She looked up the name of Tesla’s lawyer, thinking he might have been the person who’d set the combination. She found his birthdate and tried that then the address of his house. No luck.

She switched tactics. If Tesla had created the combination, he might have used his birthday, which was July 10, 1856. That could be 7-10-18-56. She tried those numbers, starting left then starting right. Nothing.

For two weeks, she tried a bunch of other