Page 39 of Garr

“I hate to ask this, but did she and the brother have something going on?” Samson stared at Eric, unsure of the question. “Did they have a physical relationship beyond siblings?”

“Oh,” frowned the younger man. “I never really thought of that. They were oddly close. Always hugging one another, holding hands, which I thought was strange at their age. I have two sisters younger than me, and we hug when we see each other, but we don’t kiss on the lips.”

“They kissed one another on the lips?” frowned Cam.

“Always. The Admiral always said they were just very close to one another. Their parents died when they were pretty young, and they relied on one another.”

“Maybe more than they should have,” said Garr.

The men stepped out of the vehicles and walked toward the front door of the home. Garr started to knock, then noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Drawing his weapon, he signaled to the others to do the same. Eric, Sebastian, and Alistair went to the back of the house with AJ making sure the alarms were off.

Pushing the door open, they found an absolute mess. The house had been turned upside down. Cushions were torn apart, books thrown all over the rooms, chairs turned over in every room.

“Damn,” muttered Cam.

“It’s staged,” said AJ. They all turned, staring at him. “Look. There are vases, plates, bowls, decorative items on the tables, counters, and shelves, but none of that was broken. I’ve never seen someone have a home invasion where items were destroyed, but they graciously spared the china.”

“Fuck me,” muttered Garr. “It’s staged.”

“Check her bedroom,” said Samson, heading toward the stairs. “They didn’t share a room any longer since the kids were gone. She had a few items that she always wanted right next to her at all times. A family book of some sort, a small box of jewelry that she’d been given by her parents and the Admiral, and a bejeweled eighteenth-century Khanjarli.”

“That’s not exactly something you see every day. Plus, that’s one wicked knife,” said Garr. “Did she know how to use it?”

“From what I understand, she was proficient with it,” said Samson.

“Proficient with it, yet he came home to find her being beaten by a strange man, and she didn’t use it,” said Garr. Samson opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head.

“I never thought of that. Never.”

“It’s not something you would automatically think of,” said Eric, “but it feels like something that Isaac should have put together.”

“When it came to her, he was blind. Recently, I think he was realizing that she and Brockman were up to something. He just didn’t know what, and if you want my honest opinion, I don’t think he wanted to know. It would have been too painful for him.”

“Not as painful as death,” frowned Garr.

“No, sir, I guess not,” said Samson.

“Listen, Samson, stop with all the ‘sir’ shit. We’re just first or last names only. Clear?”

“Yes, si-, uh, got it, Garr.” Garr gave him a smirk, turning once more to stare at the destruction.

“They obviously left in a hurry. Where would they go?” he asked as much to himself as to anyone in the room.

“Hey, anyone know why the Admiral would have a pontoon boat decked out like a Christmas float?” asked one of the investigators.

“A pontoon boat?” frowned Samson. “He didn’t own a pontoon boat.” Collectively, the men stared at one another, then looked at the investigator.

“Shit!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Alistair walked the length of the boat, touching the pontoons, circling the entire structure.

“She wasn’t meant to float,” he said. “The pontoons aren’t water-safe, and there’s no engine. I think they were using this as a dummy to plan what they’re going to do.”

“What are they going to do?” asked Samson.

“Every year, there’s a parade of boats through the bayou. They decorate their boats like you would a Mardi Gras float, only for Christmas. At the end, Santa appears on a boat and gives presents to the kids, along with candy and other fun things,” said Luke.

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