Touching Eternity (Touch Series 1.5) (38 page)

“What did he need the time off for?”

Garrison shrugged. “I didn’t ask. A man is entitled to taking time off with his family. I know he’d been talking for some time about taking the girls away for the winter.”

So smooth, Isaiah thought, awed. There wasn’t a single shred of guilt anywhere, only a glimmering hint of grief that Isaiah knew was false. He felt as much grief for the death of Gabriel Tomas as Isaiah, which was none at all. However, his family? Isaiah couldn’t believe it. His family didn’t deserve to die.

“We’ve spoken to the people at the university and not one of them ever recalled Tomas mentioning a vacation or a trip.”

Garrison sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. Gabriel and I spent a great deal of time together. He is—was my best friend. I don’t think it’s strange at all that I was the only one he told. We shared many private details.”

“Did you know his family?”

Garrison blinked as if coming out of some fond memory. “Yes, of course. Like I said, I was Jodie’s…” His voice faltered. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefingers. “I’m sorry.”

If they were affected by the brilliant performance, neither detective showed it. “Your daughters were the same age.”

A cold fist tightened around Isaiah’s gut.

“Hannah?” the detective on the left said after confirming the name on the notebook that he fished out of his coat pocket.

Garrison cleared his throat. “Yes. Hannah was Amalie’s age. Jodie was a couple of years older.”

“Do you have the one child?”

Garrison shook his head. “My son Isaiah.” He motioned to where Isaiah stood.

Both detectives turned to him, their features carefully wiped clean of their thoughts, but the one on the right, his eyes narrowed judgingly. Isaiah met their gaze unflinching. Let them think what they want. He didn’t care.

“Mr. Tomas worked for you,” the one on the left said, turning back to Garrison first. “What did he do?”

Garrison leaned back in his chair. “He was tutoring Amalie.”

“Mr. Tomas was a genetic engineer, was he not?”

“He was,” Garrison confirmed.

“One of the best from what I hear.”

A ghost of a smile turned Garrison’s mouth. “I would hope so since I trained him.”

“Did you and Mr. Tomas have an argument the night he disappeared?”

Any other person would have spotted the undertone question.

“The last I saw him, he was getting ready to go home. I walked him to the door, told him to kiss Cecilia and the girls for me and have a safe trip.”

The one on the left tapped the end of his pen on his notebook, seemingly contemplating his next question before asking, “Why is it he didn’t tell anyone else about his trip but you? We’ve talked to every single person at the university, everyone he’d ever come into contact with and they had no knowledge of this spontaneous trip, except you.”

“That is something you would have to ask him,” Garrison said evenly. “Maybe he didn’t want everyone to know.”

“Not even his place of employment?” the one on the right said. “When I go on vacation, the first people I phone are my work and book the time off. Since Mr. Tomas still worked for the university, I would assume that he would have to do the same.”

Garrison spread his long fingers open, holding his palms up. “Again, these are things you would have to ask Gabriel. I know he only worked with Amalie for five hours every day, except weekends. The rest of the time, he was at the university or at home.”

“You seem to know his schedule fairly well, Mr. Garrison.”

“Well, we were friends and we ran in the same circles at the university.”

“Mr. Tomas’ body was never recovered, are you aware?”

The look of surprise on Garrison’s face was brilliant. Isaiah almost believed he had no idea.

“Wasn’t it?” He seemed to deliberate on this. “I suppose, depending on where he was sitting, the heat could have…” he trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing. “You mentioned murder. I didn’t think a plane crash would constitute as murder.”

“There were signs of abuse on the bodies we did uncover that were irregular for a simple plane crash.”

All humor vanished from Garrison’s face. It hardened. “What are you insinuating? That Gabriel was an abusive husband and father? That man loved his family. He would have died for them before ever laying a finger on them.” He shot out of his seat. “I will not sit here and listen to you smear the memories of a man I respected greatly. Gabriel Tomas was an incredible man and he will be missed!”

He waited a heartbeat to gauge the faces of the detectives before rounding the desk.

“Now if we are finished this meeting, I have supper waiting and a family of my own to get back to. I will have someone escort you to the door.”

To prove it, he stalked to the doors, threw them open and stuck his head out.

“Joseph? Please show these officers to the door.”

The guard there inclined his head and took several steps away from the door to stand in the middle of the foyer, waiting. The detectives never spared him a glance. They kept their eyes on Garrison.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Garrison,” the one on the right said. “If you think of anything else…” He offered Garrison a card that he withdrew from the lapel of his coat. “Please don’t hesitate to phone.”

Garrison took the card and stored it away in his pocket without glancing at it. “I will.”

Inclining their heads, the detectives followed Joseph down the corridor towards the front of the house. Garrison reached into his pocket, removed the card and pressed it into a small ball. He tossed it angrily into the wastebasket.

“Idiots,” he muttered.

“Did you kill his family?” The words left his lips before Isaiah could stop them.

Garrison looked him square in the eyes. “No.” Then left the room.

He was lying. There was no tell on his face, but Isaiah just couldn’t bring himself to believe anything the man said. Every word that left his lips, even the truth, felt like a lie and Isaiah couldn’t stand it.

He left the office, making his way quickly through the corridor to the dining room. Derek glanced up from the doorway when he slipped inside. Isaiah ignored him as he scanned the room.

Garrison was in his usual place, flicking open a napkin and draping it lazily over his lap. Amalie was in her seat, saying nothing as she stared into her plate. Her head came up when Isaiah walked into the room. The relief in her face had him smiling back at her.

“Help yourself,” Garrison was telling her when Isaiah took his place across from her.

Amalie didn’t move. She stared at the spatula in front of her to the man motioning towards it.

“Doesn’t all this look delicious?” Garrison said, ignoring her hesitation to help himself to a large serving of meatloaf. “I swear Ruth never cooked this well while you were gone, Isaiah.”

Isaiah said nothing. He didn’t think he could eat. All he could think about was those two girls, one of them Amalie’s age, being killed, possibly tortured, because of something their father did. Had they been afraid? Had they begged to be let go? He couldn’t imagine it. He didn’t want to. He knew there was nothing he could have done, but the guilt was as fierce as if he’d physically been there.

“Isaiah?”

He blinked and focused on Garrison, realizing the man had been speaking to him for the last five minutes. “Sorry?”

Garrison motioned with his hand towards the food. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

No! I don’t want food!
He wanted to know if Garrison had killed that family. If he had stood by and watched as they were tortured and…his stomach roiled. A tooth for a tooth? A daughter for a daughter? Was Garrison really that man? Had Isaiah been blind all those years to the monster behind the kind smile?

“I’m not hungry.”

Garrison sighed. “You can’t let them upset you, Isaiah. We have to be more careful, but I’m sure that is the last we will see of them.”

Isaiah felt the heat roll over him, hot and angry. His hands balled in his lap. There were no words that wouldn’t be said in a scream so he bit his tongue until the taste of copper filled his mouth.

Beneath the table, a tiny foot nudged his, drawing his attention to the wide, blue eyes watching him. The concern on her face was what smothered the sharp edge. He swallowed the rage, already making up his mind not to tell her. She did not need to know about this. She was already scared and constantly worried about him going out with Garrison on these missions of his. So for her, he tucked away the rage and anger and guilt and betrayal. He stored it all up in a tight box deep inside him and forced a smile. She didn’t relax until he’d heaped food onto his plate.

“Amalie.” Garrison turned to her, pulling her attention away from Isaiah. “I was thinking we could take a drive tomorrow morning. Would you like that?”

“Where?” Isaiah asked before Amalie could respond.

Garrison didn’t look surprised by the question or that Isaiah asked it. He continued to watch Amalie. “I was thinking we could show her the lab.”

It took every ounce of will not to leap to his feet and scream, to backhand all the food, to upend the table, to punch the man in the face. He willed himself to calm down, to think. There was no longer a choice of waiting. He needed to get Amalie out of there before their fieldtrip to the lab, because once there, he had a feeling she would not be allowed back. That would be the last trip she would ever make.

Amalie

Amalie was already in her nightgown and in bed when Isaiah slipped into her room quietly. Her heart scuttled for a split second before settling as she recognized his figure in the soft light of the moonlight outside. She sat up, excited to see him. Her fingers fumbled as she drew back the blankets, anticipating him joining her. But he ran to her wardrobe.

“Isaiah?”

“Get up!” he hissed, his voice unnaturally low. “Get dressed.”

Heart lodged in her throat, Amalie leapt out of bed and hurried to join him as he rifled through her things. She watched baffled as he tore down random bits of clothes and stuffed them carelessly into the bag he held.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“We’re leaving tonight,” he shoved several tops into the bag before turning to her. “Right now!”

Heart galloping now, anticipation, fear, excitement and terror, raged fierce through her veins. She scrambled back, not sure what she should do. He’d never given her directions, except to be ready. He had dealt with everything else.

“What do I do?” she asked, panic lacing through the words.

He zipped up the bag, bulging now with everything inside. “Wait here.” He gave her the bag. “When I give the signal, leave. Run out the back door and around to the gates. Stay in the shadows, stay down. I will meet you there.”

This was happening! It was really happening. The crushing reality was so much more terrifying than the possibility.

“Isaiah.” She grabbed his finger before he could leave her. “I…”

There were no words, yet they were spilling from her brain in a rush. So much she wanted to say, but was too frozen to say them.

His hands were there then, framing her face, pulling her forward until they were inches apart. He kissed her, stealing what little control she had remaining. The salt of her tears mingled between their lips. She could taste them on his tongue. Her fingers shook as they closed in his shirt, gripping him close, too afraid to let him go.

“I love you.” He pressed each word against her lips, sealing them, tattooing them, marking them there forever.

“I love you!” she choked.

He pulled back, still holding her face. He smiled, smoothing away the tears streaking her cheeks. “We’re going to get out of here! I promise! I will never let him hurt you again.”

It was too much to hope, but she refused to say so. She wanted every one of his words to be true. She wanted to be standing on the other side of those gates with him, away from the nightmare crushing her now. She wanted so badly to be free.