Vanishing Point

by Lisa Harris

  The process of losing her mom was so hard. Knowing that soon she wouldn’t be able to pick up the phone and call her. That she’d never again sit at the kitchen table eating her pão de queijo and drinking Brazilian coffee. All the things she’d taken for granted over the years. The emails and text messages her mom had sent, making sure she was okay and knew she was loved.

  Garrett’s arm brushed against hers, and he took her hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked the expanse of the bridge on the way back to his car. The sun was making its final curtain call of the day as it slipped out of sight, leaving behind subtle hues of twilight. Her heart stirred at his touch. Being with him seemed so . . . natural. As if all the years that had separated them were gone.

  But she didn’t want to feel anything for him. Not anymore. Things might have been different if she’d stayed around, but she hadn’t. She’d left Nashville and never looked back. And being here now, with her mother dying and her heart broken . . . none of it was going to change the past or give the two of them a future.

  So if all of that were true, then why did the thought of leaving him again seem to magnify her loneliness? It must be the emotion of losing her mother that had her feeling so vulnerable. The lack of sleep from staying up with her night after night so her father could get some rest, and in a way, maybe trying to make up for all of the time she hadn’t been here.

  She pulled her hand away as they neared the parking lot. In spite of her confusion, in spite of her indecision, she knew the truth. She’d let Trey go because he wasn’t Garrett.

  “How’s your father doing?” Garrett asked. “I can’t imagine how tough this must be for him.”

  “He told me his heart is broken. After forty years of marriage, they were still so in love.”

  She studied Garrett’s profile. His strong jaw and confident stride. Her parents’ marriage was the kind she’d always wanted. Passionate, deep, and dedicated, even when things got tough. There seemed to be fewer and fewer couples who stuck it out for the long haul, but that was what she’d always dreamed of. Maybe that was the reason she’d avoided settling down. Because if she couldn’t find what her parents had, she wasn’t sure she wanted to settle for anything less.

  Could she and Garrett have had the same thing? Who knew? Too much time had passed, and their lives had run separate courses.

  “What about your father?” she asked. “Are things still as strained as they used to be?”

  “Yes. Nothing’s really changed, though I found out from my mom that he’s here in the city working with a client. Not that I’m expecting to hear from him.”

  “You should go see him,” she said. “Spend some time with him. Double your efforts, even when it’s hard. He’s your father.”

  “You remember what it’s like with him. If I show up, he’ll pick a fight.”

  “I know he isn’t easy to get along with, but with all that’s happened in our family over the last few months, I’m beginning to realize what’s really important.”

  He was quiet for a few moments, then nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jordan stopped at the front porch of her parents’ house and fingered the key in the palm of her hand. “Thanks for tonight. I needed to get out for a while.”

  “Anytime. Just promise me you won’t push yourself. You need time to grieve and let go through this process. You need to take care of yourself.”

  “I know.”

  He looked down at her in the yellow glow of the porch light. Feelings she’d purposely buried years ago flooded through her. She breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne, and felt her heart tremble.

  He caught her gaze and held it. “Jordan . . . I know this isn’t the best timing, but seeing you again . . . I can’t stop thinking about you. After being with you tonight, I don’t know how to get rid of the feelings I have for you. Because as much as I keep shoving them away, they keep coming back, just as strong as they were before.”

  She wanted to pull away. To tell him none of that was true. That whatever they were feeling was sentimental and completely impractical. Instead, she didn’t move while he leaned toward her and brushed his lips against hers. He paused for a moment, as if he expected her to pull away. But she didn’t. Instead she returned the kiss, with a fervor she hadn’t known was still simmering inside her.

  A moment later, she stepped back breathless, then pressed her fingers against her lips where she could still feel his touch. “What just happened?”

  “I don’t know.” He shot her an apologetic smile. “You always were irresistible.”

  But this wasn’t a place she could go. Not when she was feeling completely vulnerable. Because the timing couldn’t be worse. Even if they could somehow figure out a way to make a relationship work, they’d tried it before. They lived two separate lives. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t turn back the clock for their relationship. She needed to move forward.

  “Jordan—”

  “I need to go inside,” she said. She couldn’t deal with this. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  “Okay.” He squeezed her fingers before letting go and turning around.

  She didn’t move as he looked back at her one last time before slipping into his car and driving away.

  14

  May 18

  7:29 a.m.

  River Hollow Stables

  Amanda Love was brushing a chestnut-colored mare early Thursday morning when Garrett pulled into the gravel driveway that curled around the corral. Her mother had made it clear on the phone that she wasn’t happy about his request. Garrett in turn had explained that their questions had to do with another missing girl, but he wasn’t sure even that was going to be enough to get Amanda to talk.

  “She’s a beautiful mare.” Garrett approached the fenced corral that was attached to a red barn with a green roof. “I always wanted a horse growing up, but my mom wouldn’t let me. She got me a hamster instead.”

  Amanda ran the brush across the horse’s belly and let out a timid smile.

  “Is she yours?” Garrett asked.

  “My father got her for me for my fourteenth birthday.”

  “I’m Special Agent Addison,” Garrett said, holding up his badge.

  “I know who you are. My mother told me you were coming.”

  “I appreciate your letting me talk with you.”

  She shrugged, ignoring eye contact as she kept brushing the horse.

  Garrett searched for a way to connect. “I know this isn’t easy for you. I have a cousin your age, and I can’t imagine how she’d react after going through what you did. I want you to know that we are doing everything we can to find out who abducted you. That’s why I asked to talk with you again.”

  Amanda didn’t say anything, so he decided to keep talking.

  “Your mother told me you were going to a trauma counselor.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Has it helped you?”

  “Some days.”

  “She also told me you ride horses.”

  “Yeah . . . I compete. I started when I was nine. It’s the one place I can feel free.”

  “I bet you’re good at it.”

  “She is good.” A woman walked out of the barn, dressed to ride, in a pair of gray breeches and tall boots. “She’s already looking at competing in a world equestrian championship. But that’s not why you’re here. I told you I wasn’t happy about letting you come back and talk with Amanda. The only reason I’m letting you is because she thinks it’s important.”

  “I won’t be long. I promise.” Garrett turned back to Amanda. “I know you’ve told your story, but I need to know if there are any details you might have remembered since you last spoke with the police.”

  “You think it could help the other girl who’s missing?” Amanda asked.

  “It might. We’re trying to find any detail that might connect the girls who went missing.”

  Amanda’s face fell and tears ca
me to her eyes. “I know I should be able to do this, but I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  “Can’t what, Amanda?” he asked.

  “Every time I try to talk about what happened, I freeze. I’m sorry. I just . . . I can’t.”

  “Amanda, I want you to go on back to the house,” her mom said, stepping in front of her daughter.

  “I understand.” Garrett reached into his pocket and handed Amanda a business card with his number on it. “Another girl was taken, Amanda. Her name’s Sarah Boyd. She was just a few months older than you are. We don’t know if she’s alive or not, but I believe it’s possible that the man who tried to take you might have taken the other girls. If you remember anything . . . anything at all that you haven’t told the police, please call me.”

  Amanda started to walk away, then stopped and turned back around. “Her name is Sarah?”

  “Amanda—”

  “It’s okay, Mom.”

  “Sarah Boyd,” Garrett said.

  “What happened to her?”

  “Her sister was supposed to pick her up from school, but when she got there, Sarah was gone.”

  “And you haven’t found her?” she asked, stepping up to the fence.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “But you think it was the same man who took me?”

  “It’s possible, though we don’t know for sure. We thought if there was something new you remembered, anything at all that could give us a lead, it might help us find her.”

  She pressed her hand against the bristles of the brush. “I go over it in my head. That day. It never stops. Everything I thought and felt. The same thing repeating over and over. I can’t get it out of my head, but there are so many details I can’t remember.

  “Something came up in my therapy the other day. Remember the man I saw in the car? I saw him before that too.”

  “What do you mean?” Garrett asked, taking a step forward.

  “Four, maybe five days before he kidnapped me. I was leaving the library with a pile of books for a research paper. I dropped them on the way down the front stairs and this guy stopped to help me pick them up. He said he was a teacher and was going to start teaching math at the middle school. He asked me if I had any advice for a new teacher.”

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him I couldn’t think of anything. It was awkward, even though he was nice. Then he asked me if I like horses. I thought that was weird. Like he knew stuff about me. Then I realized I was wearing a T-shirt from one of my competitions. And then he left.”

  All of this fit the profile that she’d been followed. Stalked.

  “Do you remember what he looked like?” Garrett asked.

  “I know I should remember what he looked like, but when I try to picture him, I can’t see his face. I think he was wearing a suit jacket. Something . . . dark. No tie.”

  Garrett could see remnants of fear still lingering in her eyes and tried to imagine the horror she’d gone through. Abducted. Blindfolded. Terrified.

  “But I remember something else,” she said.

  Her mom wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

  Amanda took in a deep breath. “He had the same voice as the man who took me.”

  “Are you sure?” Garrett asked.

  Amanda nodded.

  “I know this is extremely hard for you, but this will help. I promise.”

  She looked up and caught his gaze for the first time. “Please find whoever did this to me.”

  He nodded. “I promise I’ll do everything in my power to do just that.”

  Garrett pulled out his phone as he slipped back into his car, called Sam, and put it on speaker.

  “Did you find out anything?” Sam asked.

  Garrett started the car and backed out of the driveway. “I’m leaving the Love residence now, and while I can’t prove it, I think we might have missed one of our abductor’s victims. I need you to find the number for the middle school Amanda attends and find out if they hired any new math teachers this past year, then call me back.”

  Two minutes later, Sam was back on the line with an answer. “The secretary just confirmed that they didn’t hire any new math teachers this year.”

  “There might be a connection here,” Garrett said, quickly filling in the blanks for Sam. “I think we need to keep digging.”

  “I agree.”

  Garrett noted the time as he headed toward the freeway. “I’m heading back now, but I need to make one stop on the way.”

  He hung up the call, fervently praying that Sarah could somehow escape her captor the same way Amanda had. Because if that didn’t happen, she was quickly running out of time.

  Ten minutes later, Garrett parked along the street in the middle of Music City, paid the metered parking, then started walking to the hotel where his mom had told him his dad was staying. As he walked, he replayed the conversation he’d had with his mom on the phone. She told him that his father had been drinking more. That he’d been coming home late most nights and had a tendency to miss appointments. On top of that, she was worried about the people he’d gotten the law firm involved with.

  His father had always known how to get around the law. He’d hover just enough on the right side of the fence that he’d never get caught. But that was what was scary. Never getting caught made him feel invincible. And according to Garrett’s mother, the people his father was involved with were the kind of people that if you cross them, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.

  Garrett nodded at the doorman, strode across the five-star lobby, and pressed the button on the elevator for the fifth floor. Trying to pretend like he belonged. Which he didn’t. He never had.

  Two minutes later, he stopped outside the door to room 548, wondering if he’d made a mistake in coming. Talking to Jordan had made him realize that his father wasn’t the only one who had never tried to improve their relationship. Garrett hadn’t tried either. Which meant maybe he was partly to blame for the fact that any relationship he’d had with his father had died years ago.

  The elevator opened at the end of the hallway. He watched a couple step out and head to their room. He turned back to the door and knocked before he chickened out.

  His father opened the door, holding a drink in his hand. He leaned against the doorframe. “Garrett. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  “It’s been a long time.” Garrett stood in the hallway, deciding not to ask his father why he was already drinking so early in the morning. “I tried to call, but never got through. Mom said you were in town, so I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing. I thought we could go out to dinner or something.”

  “Yeah . . . that would be great. I was planning to call you while I was here—maybe tomorrow—but I have a new client who’s kept me on the phone or in meetings ever since I arrived. You know how some clients are. They think they’re paying you for more than just handling their case.”

  “That’s okay.” Garrett forced a smile. “I didn’t expect you to have a lot of free time, knowing you were here on business.”

  He tried to smother his disappointment. Nothing had changed in thirty years. It had always been something. Sixty-hour weeks meant missing basketball games and camping trips. There were always plenty of excuses to explain his absence.

  “Do you mind if I come in, or do you need to head out to another meeting?” Garrett asked.

  His father hesitated, then stepped aside to let him come in. “You caught me at a good time, actually. I’ve got a few minutes until I have to be somewhere.” He swung the door closed.

  Garrett frowned as he walked into the suite. He knew how his father played the game. He knew that the five-hundred-dollar-a-night room, the dinners in the hotel lounge, and all the liquor he wanted would be billed to his client.

  Funny. He’d been headed in that direction and he didn’t miss any of it.

  He walked across the carpet to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked downtown Nashville, sudd
enly wishing he’d never come.

  “Would you like a drink?” his father asked.

  “No thanks. I’m fine.”

  He turned around to study his father. His mom had been right. He looked terrible. He’d gained ten pounds, making him look bloated and puffy. His hair had grayed, and his skin seemed paler than normal, but the worst part was that it wasn’t even lunchtime and he was half drunk.

  “Working a case, I guess?” his father said, joining him at the window. “How is your job going? You’re with TBI, right?”

  Garrett nodded, surprised his father remembered. “I don’t regret my decision to leave the practice, if that’s what you’re asking.” He stopped. He wasn’t here to fight. He was here to make peace.

  “I’ve always wondered about your job,” his father continued. “What are they paying you? Forty . . . fifty thousand a year before taxes?”

  Money was the last thing he wanted to talk about. “It never was about the money.”

  “Maybe not, but it takes money to make this world go round. And it buys a better bottle of Scotch.” His father held up his half-empty glass and laughed before setting it down on the coffee table. “I’d insist you try some, but I’m afraid it might be a bit too rich for your blood.”

  He swallowed the insult without reacting. His father knew how to throw an illegal punch with his passive-aggressive spin on things. It was the way he’d always taken out his hostilities. And in turn Garrett had always taken the brunt of them. But not today. His words bounced off of him, because he wasn’t that nine-year-old desperate to win his father’s approval.

  This time it was his father who needed his help.

  “How’s your case coming?” Garrett asked.

  “You know that’s privileged information.”

  Garrett shook his head, feeling any control on his temper slipping away. “What happened to you?”

  “What do you mean, what happened to me? You’re the one who left, not me. I gave you every reason to stay.”