Charmed (Second Sight) (3 page)

What
were
Mac’s plans for the case? If she’d bothered to ask, she might know. But, what she’d said must have had the ring of truth.

“I’m sorry for your pain,” Geoffrey said, sounding equally truthful and actually suffering on her behalf. “So often, though, change is like that.” Isabelle had to look at him. Geoffrey offered her a sad smile and patted her gloved hand on his forearm. “But
I’m
glad you’re here.”

They walked in silence for a few moments and Isabelle realized they were headed toward the main house. But she’d found the frame and photo that told her Daniel was alive in the dorm, the long building to their right.

“I was wondering,” she said. “If we might look at the dorm.”

“You’ve already seen the dorm,” Geoffrey said.
 

Had he tightened his grip?

“But isn’t that where I’d be staying?” Isabelle said, feeling her heart race a little faster.

There’d be no point to the trip if she couldn’t see the dorm.

“You know,” Geoffrey said, lowly. “Maurice isn’t in favor of your being here.” Surprised, Isabelle tried to stop but Geoffrey propelled her forward with a firm hold on her arm. “But I can vouch for you,” he said, heading to the main house. “I mean, it’ll take a bit of fast-talking but I’m sure I can get Maurice to see it my way.” Geoffrey paused and looked sideways at her. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

Isabelle felt a chill run down her spine. Geoffrey was offering to help and that help would come at a price. And Isabelle could easily guess what it would be. But she wouldn’t be staying and it would
never
get that far.
 

If I’m going to find Daniel, I need to search here.

They were nearly to the front of the main house, the dormitory getting further away and the guard still behind them, though keeping his distance.

She wasn’t going to get to the dormitory–not easily at any rate. But she had to find something, some clue that would prove this hadn’t been in vain.

Isabelle took a deep breath.

“Of course that’s what I want,” she breathed, smiling. Geoffrey was gazing into her eyes. She gazed right back, smiled, and leaned toward him. “In fact, I’d be very grateful.”

•••••

Isabelle was fitting the profile
very
nicely
, thought Geoffrey.
 

She obviously didn’t own her own car. She and her boyfriend were having troubles. And, most importantly, she’d submitted to the punishment. Even Maurice had to agree with that. Though her blood work hadn’t come back yet, Geoffrey was sure it’d be fine. At first he’d thought her gloves hid some skin condition. But, when he’d seen them, they’d been fine. In fact, they’d been more than fine. Like the rest of her, they’d been lovely.

Odd how he’d never really thought of hands that way before Isabelle.

“I’m thirsty,” he said. “How about you?”

Her arm still tucked under his, he started up the stairs, nearly lifting her from step to step.

“Not particularly,” she said, glancing back at the security guard who was still following them.

“Well you’re going to love this raspberry iced tea I make. We grow everything here. As you might expect.”

He laughed a little, feeling truly happy. He bounced on the balls of his feet as they ascended the wide, spiral staircase.
 

“All organic too, I imagine,” Isabelle said, smiling up at him.
 

Charming. Positively charming. And those eyes. Will our children have them?

For one of the few times in his life, Geoffrey tried to visualize his own children. They might inherit her straight nose. They might actually be attractive.

He realized they were at his door.

“And here we are!” he said.

•••••

These looked like Geoffrey’s private quarters. They had to be. The smell of his cologne was everywhere. Unlike the rest of the commune, uncluttered to the point of spartan, this expansive and luxurious living room was furnished like a penthouse. Alarm bells went off in Isabelle’s head. She heard Geoffrey lock the doorknob behind her.

It is definitely time to leave.

But not without a reading. This couldn’t all be for nothing. Not after Mac had forbidden her.

“What a beautiful view,” she said, not really looking at it as she began to remove her glove.

She heard the tinkling of ice cubes in a glass pitcher off to the side.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Geoffrey said.

All the object choices were bad: a sliding screen door, the end of the bar next to it, couches, tables, a television. Whatever she chose, it had to be quick. Geoffrey was pouring the iced tea.
 

She chose the object that would look the most natural to touch and where she could steady herself–the bar.

With a quick tug, the glove came off and she put her hand on the smooth, black marble. Her vision went instantly gray and the reading began. To her shock, Maurice appeared. In his lab coat. Arguing with Geoffrey. He was drunk. Something broke. He’s a scientist, not a doctor. He’s angry. They’re–

“Here you go,” Geoffrey said.

Isabelle quickly removed her hand from the bar and put on her glove. She could hear Geoffrey crossing from right to left in back of her, the faint tinkling of ice in two glasses. Now he was on her left. The thick haze of the reading still lingered and, for all intents and purposes, she was blind.

I can’t let Geoffrey know.

Quickly, she closed her eyes.

•••••

Geoffrey held out Isabelle’s glass to her just as he realized her eyes were closed. He stopped. Though she was facing the sliding screen door, her eyes were completely shut.

“Isabelle?” he said. “Are you all right?”

Although her eyebrows moved, she didn’t open her eyes.

“My eyes,” she said. “The light was so bright. I’m just…shutting them for a moment.”

Bright? Still holding the two glasses of tea in his hands, Isabelle’s in his right–the all important pill already dissolved–he glanced at the screen door. The balcony beyond was still in shadow. How could it be too bright?

And yet she stood there, eyes closed. A slight breeze ruffled the front of her dress, the neckline cut low, with just a bit of cleavage showing. Her long hair swayed in the breeze, blown slightly back from her delicate face.

He cocked his head at her.

Is she waiting for me to do something?

As many women as he’d been with, this was a strange way to begin, but Isabelle was full of surprises. He let his eyes roam over her and took a step closer.
Exquisite
,
if a bit curious
. She had to know he was standing here. Her lips were the lightest shade of pink, like two, soft petals.

And they were parted ever so slightly.

Geoffrey licked his own, making sure they were moist. Without pausing to set down the glasses, he leaned in and kissed her.

But it only lasted for a moment as she gasped and backed up. Her eyes flew open as she continued to move away.
 

That was
not
the reaction he’d anticipated.

Like an idiot, he just stood there, holding the iced teas, and watched her cover her mouth and turn to the door. She nearly ran into it, fumbled with the lock on the knob, finally yanked it open, and ran through.

Too late, he came to his senses.

“Isabelle!” he called out but he could hear her heels clicking down the hall and then the stairs.

He looked at the two drinks and then back at the door. If he ran, he could catch her. Easily. But as he thought of it, he realized she hadn’t screamed, hadn’t even slapped him.
 

He smiled.

She’ll be back.

“ISABELLE?” MAC SAID, as he stepped into the apartment.
 

He put his keys on the little table next to the front door. As he locked the deadbolt, he noted that her purse was missing. She wasn’t home.

Where is she?

He walked past the couch and coffee table, past the dining table, and into the galley kitchen. The coffee pot was still nearly full and–he reached out a hand–it was cold and their two coffee cups were still in the sink.
 

That’s odd.

He backed up and looked down the hallway. None of the lights were on.

Though she’d been upset when he’d dropped her off, it hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t be here. His stomach sank a little.

I couldn’t have misread her that badly.

Or maybe he’d missed her call.

He took out his phone. He’d just turned it on when he heard a key in the front door. He set the phone on the counter, aware of the gun holstered under his jacket, though the key had to be Isabelle.

“Mac?” she said, as she opened the door and stepped through.

Even if it hadn’t been for the look on her face, he’d known from her voice that something was wrong.

“I’m here,” he said, stepping into the living room.

Her eyes immediately landed on him and she took a tentative step toward him, then remembered the door and her purse. She let the purse drop to the floor and closed and locked the door.

“Isabelle?” he said moving toward her. “What’s wrong?”

But her only response was to turn from the door, quickly close the distance between them and thud into his chest. He immediately closed his arms around her as she buried her face and hugged him tightly.

“Isabelle,” he whispered into her hair. “What is it?”

She shook her head but didn’t say anything.
 

He sensed, without really knowing, that this didn’t have anything to do with what happened this morning. But as he waited for her to say something, a familiar fragrance drifted into his consciousness.
 

He knew it from somewhere.

Wait
. He knew exactly where. The anger that had boiled under the surface all day quickly rose.

He took Isabelle by the shoulders and held her at a distance.

“You were at the
commune?
” he said. She refused to look up at him. “
Isabelle?
” he said sharply.

“Yes!” she said, quickly raising her head to glare at him through tear-filled eyes. “
Yes
, I was at the commune.”

He glared back, his fingers gripping her tight.

“After what I told you?
After what I said?
”

She shook loose from his grip, hugged herself around the middle and backed up.

“Yes!” she said, jutting out her chin. “Maurice is some kind of scientist, not a doctor. He and Geoffrey are arguing.”

“
Arguing
,” Mac nearly yelled, seizing on the word. “For god’s
sake
, Isabelle. They use guns there,
remember?
”

“They don’t suspect us,” she shot back. “I was perfectly safe.”

“Is
that
what you call it?” he yelled, unable to stop himself now. Isabelle flinched. “Do you want to have the shock wand again? What is it going to take to convince you?” He paused. “Hold on,” he said, staring hard into her eyes. “You did a reading?” He felt heat pouring into his chest and his heart pounding in his ears. “
Did you?
”

Isabelle didn’t answer but that told him everything he needed to know.

“Who did you read? What did you read? Did anybody see you?”

“
No!
” she finally yelled. Then she looked at the closed door. “Well, not really.”

“
What?
” he yelled, stepping toward her. “
Someone saw you?
”

“I couldn’t help it,” she quickly yelled. “They had no idea. They–”

“They
who?
” he demanded, grabbing her by the shoulders again. But the odor he’d smelled on her had finally registered. He
knew
who. “Geoffrey,” he seethed. “You were with
Geoffrey
.”

“He had no clue,” she said. “And I wasn’t
with
him. You make it sound–”

“I can
smell
him on you,” he said. “What happened?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

Mac fought hard for control but the smell made it hard. He pictured Geoffrey’s toothy smile. The way he’d leered at Isabelle. All the children that he’d fathered. Mac’s vision turned red.

“What did he do?” he yelled as he shook Isabelle. “
What did he do?
”

“He kissed me!” she screamed, pushing him back and he let go. “When I couldn’t see! He kissed me. All right?” Tears streamed down her face and her voice shook. “I ran from the room!” She hugged herself but focused on him. “I drove seventy miles an hour to get here,” she sobbed. “All I could think of was you! I just wanted to–” She shook her head quickly. As she sniffed, she wiped her eyes. “Never mind,” she said, turning away. “I don’t know what I–”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around.

“
Don’t
–” he started.
 

And though he’d meant to say ‘don’t turn away,’ the words caught in his throat when she winced. Her eyes were red and puffy, probably from crying all the way home. Her lower lip trembled. Though she was trying to choke off a sob, she wasn’t succeeding. And as the tears in her eyes overflowed, the frustration and fury he’d let fester during the day suddenly dimmed.
 

He hadn’t meant to make her
cry
. And as her words finally began to sink in, he realized she’d run to
him
.

“Don’t…
cry
,” he finally said, but she was past that.

Though she nodded, a broken sob escaped her lips.

God damn Geoffrey.

His leering face rose up between them and Mac saw his fist planted in the man’s oily grin. Rage roiled in Mac’s chest, churned in his stomach, and burned at the back of his throat. But when he felt Isabelle’s shoulders shake, something wild snapped inside, something completely feral. As her glittering eyes searched his, the rest of the world fell away. The amber flecks came into sharp focus. Her nostrils flared. Her jugular jumped to life as he watched.

Suddenly, animal need rampaged through him as anger blurred with desire. Blood rushed in his ears. His muscles strained against themselves. His fingers tensed, pressing into her soft flesh, and he could no longer tell who was shaking. As tears slipped down her face and moistened her quivering lips, he claimed them.