The Travelers: Book One (5 page)

Chapter 4

“I didn’t even know Izzy
had
a brother,” Gemma said with surprise.

“Well, we don’t exactly get along,” Carson answered, looking a little guilty.

Her eyes narrowed, looking him over carefully. In the light of the kitchen, Gemma couldn’t deny that he was a fine male specimen — tall, muscular and tan with sapphire eyes and a crop of short dark hair atop his head — but there were more important things to worry about than this stranger’s attractiveness. Like where Isabel was.

“I see,” she replied, at a loss for more words.

Her heart still pounded in her chest, her pulse faster than a jackrabbit’s. She didn’t know if this man was to be trusted. Izzy never mentioned a brother, but Gemma had to remind herself that they hadn’t talked much about family.

Her eyes followed the line of his jaw, admiring his strong chin, dusted by the shadow of fresh growth. She searched his face for the family resemblance; it was possible, they had similarly shaped eyes, but beyond that, she couldn’t be sure.

“What do you know about Isabel’s whereabouts?” Carson asked, his voice tense.

She crossed her arms, defending herself from his sharp gaze.

“I don’t know anything. I was trying to figure out where she went. I haven’t seen her in days.”

“If you don’t know where she is then you’re no help to me. Go home and forget all about this.”

He tried to brush past Gemma, but she stood firm, planting her feet in place.

“
Excuse me,
” she ground out through clenched teeth, “what exactly do you mean I’m no help to you? What do you know about where she is?”

He stammered for a moment, refusing to make eye contact with her.

“Well, I’m looking for clues,” he answered resolutely.

Gemma
hmph
ed at his answer, her eyes boring straight through him. She didn’t know what it was about him — she felt that they were somehow connected, something bigger than just their mutual connection to Izzy — but that wasn’t going to stop her from insisting on her way.

“I’m just as capable of looking for clues as you are.”

“Oh, are you? And what have you found so far, Nancy Drew?”

It was Gemma’s turn to look sheepish as Carson stared straight through her.

“Well, I didn’t know if she was really gone or just… avoiding me,” Gemma admitted, her eyes cast downward in shame.

Carson’s expression softened, realizing that maybe he was a bit too hasty with his assessment of her.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but it could be dangerous. It’s best if you just leave it alone. I’ll find Izzy and make sure she’s all right.”

Her sparkling bronze gaze flicked up to meet his with a challenge.

“I’m not scared,” she replied, realizing she sounded more like a petulant child than a confident young woman.

“Well, you should be. We have no idea what happened to her,” Carson muttered, continuing to look around the deserted kitchen.

“It looks like she just…” he trailed off, eying the bread abandoned in the toaster that was beginning to grow fuzzy mold.

“Disappeared,” Gemma finished his thought, the pit of dread in her stomach gnawing at her ravenously.

“Do you think she’s…” Gemma couldn’t even voice the word, her lip quivered and fresh tears sprang to her eyes. She certainly didn’t want to be showing this kind of weakness in front of Carson, but she couldn’t help but worry that something grave had happened to her friend.

“I don’t know what to think, to be honest with you,” Carson answered, rifling through Izzy’s mail now.

“Something’s not quite right around here lately… it’s something…”

“In the air,” Gemma finished for him, “I know. I haven’t been able to put my finger on it, but it’s like everything is just slightly off-center.”

Carson’s eyebrows rose, crinkling his forehead as he thought about what she’d said. He didn’t know if he should be more relieved or worried that she shared his odd uneasiness. It was one thing for an admittedly paranoid ex-criminal to be suspicious, but Gemma seemed as normal as they came. If she’d noticed something wrong, then Carson had no doubt that his suspicions meant something.

“Well,” Gemma finally interrupted their lingering moment of silence with her hands on her hips and an authoritative tone, “I have just as much right to look for Izzy as you do. We might as well help each other out; two heads are better than one, right?”

Carson had to bite back a bark of laughter.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I work alone. I didn’t ask for a stray to tag along at my heels.”

He didn’t even have to look at her. Even with his back turned, he could feel her gaze burning a hole straight through him. He tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation to continue his perusal of his sister’s home, but he was afraid she might actually be able to make him spontaneously combust.

The moment he turned around to chance a glance at her, his breath hitched in his throat. Something about seeing her angry brought out a primal beast within him — the flush in her cheeks, the steady rhythm of her rapid heart beat, the way the tiny muscles in her jaw twitched with the effort of keeping her teeth clenched — she was bewitching.

“You’re just going to be in my way,” he added, trying to ignore the defiant cant of her hips and the sparkle of a challenge in her eyes.

“For all you know, I could be a world class detective.”

He didn’t hold back his laughter now; his eyes crinkled at the corners and his chest rumbled with amusement.

Gemma ground her teeth, wondering what was so damned funny.

“Sweetheart, I think a
world class detective
would have a better weapon than a
broom
.”

She folded her arms in front of her, refusing to give in.

“If you call me sweetheart one more time, I’m going to grab the mop!” She threatened with a taunting tone.

She had to admit that she liked the sound of Carson’s laughter. As it filled her ears again, Gemma decided that she could definitely get used to that sound. It made her feel warm and safe to be wrapped up in his delight. Even if he was laughing at her expense.

But he
was
laughing at her expense and no matter how compelling his laughter was, Gemma was not having any of it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said with an air of finality. “Besides, you don’t have the first idea of where to look for Izzy; you
need
me.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed; he certainly didn’t need her, but he didn’t know how he was going to be able to get rid of her either.

“All right. Fine. You win, we’ll work together,” he conceded, already trying to think of a way to ditch her.

“Good. Just make sure you stay out of
my
way,” Gemma answered triumphantly.

She tried to reassure herself that everything was going to be okay. They would find Izzy, intact somewhere, having the time of her life. She probably just forgot to let anyone know she was going on vacation. That was plausible, right?

She sighed. It was hard to keep positive when everything told her something was very wrong. Her eyes roved over Carson again, admiring the flex of the muscles in his back as he leaned over to examine something. Why didn’t Izzy mention that she had a sexy older brother? Under different circumstances, Gemma could be totally willing to break her dry spell with the big hunk of alpha male.

But as the circumstances were, he’d proved himself to be callous, condescending, and just plain infuriating. He wanted to make assumptions about Gemma without knowing the first thing about her. Of course, every observation he’d made so far was correct, but that only made her angrier. It wasn’t right for a stranger to be able to pick up on those tiny personal details.

“Well, where do you think we should start?”

Carson turned to face her. Again, he felt some strange animalistic stirring deep within him. Like she somehow unlocked his inner caveman. He didn’t want her to put herself in harm’s way for this undoubtedly dangerous quest. He wanted to sling her over his shoulder, carry her back to his cave, and chain her up so she couldn’t get herself into trouble.

He knew that keeping Gemma safe would never be that easy. But even more than that, Carson knew that if anything happened to her, his sister would kill him.

“We’ll start by asking friends and neighbors if they noticed anything odd about her behavior lately. I have a friend that’s pretty good with computers, we’ll try to see if we can figure out the last places she used her credit cards or cell phone and go from there.”

She nodded her agreement, wondering how Carson could be so calm about his missing sister. Izzy had only been her friend for a month and she was almost hysterical with worry. How was he able to keep it all together?

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Chapter 5

The night was waning and Gemma found it difficult to keep focusing on the things Carson said. He wanted to know everything about Izzy’s life — where she did her grocery shopping, what route she took home from work, what her habits were and if anyone seemed to show interest in her that she didn’t appreciate — Gemma hated herself for it, but she really didn’t have any answers for Carson.

He noticed her eyelids drooping and put on a fresh pot of coffee for them both. The sun would be up soon; people would be beginning their day. He was anxious to be able to talk with other people around town to see if they had any information. Gemma was trying her best, but there was only so much she knew.

“Here,” he said, setting a fresh steaming mug down in front of her, “drink up.”

She groaned, dropping her head to the table before pulling herself upright to take a long gulp.

“All right, I think you’ve given me all you know about her day-to-day ritual,” Carson said.

“Which is basically nothing,” Gemma groaned.

“That’s okay,” he reassured her, rubbing his tired eyes as he sat back down opposite from her.

It was strange to be sitting in Isabel’s kitchen, drinking her coffee, with her friend. It seemed natural even though it wasn’t anything close to usual for him.

It was a little unsettling how easily he slipped into conversation with Gemma. Her mere presence was enough to soothe his raging conscience. His mind was typically a never-ending cycle of guilt, rage and fears of inadequacy, but while he sat there with Gemma, it all melted away.

Under different circumstances, he could see them at a coffee shop, having a chat about normal every day things. But those weren’t the circumstances they found themselves in and he had a suspicion that Gemma would prove more of a hindrance than a help.

“So, did you notice anything unusual? Was she talking to a new guy? Hanging out with anyone weird? Did she seem nervous or scared?”

Gemma’s eyes welled up, exhaustion and frustration taking it’s toll.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “we haven’t been friends that long. I wouldn’t know what was out of place or different for her,” she paused for a moment, her eyes focusing on a fleck in the formica tabletop; “Wait… there was someone at the bar one night. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Izzy definitely wasn’t happy about seeing him.”

Carson nodded.

“Okay, weird guy, did you see what he looked like? Was there anything else weird going on?”

She frowned, struggling to remember the shadowy man she’d seen in Santorini’s.

“No, I didn’t get a good look at him. Just tall is all I remember… dark hair.  She called him a
cabron
, whatever that is.”

Carson smirked for a moment, “Not a very nice word, to put it politely.”

“I’d gathered as much by the daggers she glared at him.”

“Right, so there was a shady dude, that’s a start. Maybe there’s surveillance footage or something from that night.”

“There was a text or something too!” Gemma said, looking up quickly, trying to remember the details of the now-weeks old memory.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she explained Izzy’s odd behavior that day and tried to come up with an explanation for it.

“Was this before or after you saw the guy at the bar?”

“After… no, before. I went to the bar that night because I hadn’t seen her in the few days since the text message.”

“All right, well, that’s something to go on at least,” he said with a sigh. It wasn’t as much as he hoped for, but Carson knew to take what he was given without complaint. There could always be the time that he was given nothing at all, so he had to be thankful for the things he was handed.

She paused for a long moment, staring into the dark abyss of her coffee mug, her eyes unfocused and her expression forlorn.

“Hey,” Carson said, drawing her attention back to him. He reached a hand across the table to cover hers and tried to ignore the white hot electricity he felt from her touch.

“None of this is your fault. You didn’t know this was going to happen, you didn’t know what questions to ask her or what to look for.”

Gemma sniffled, wishing she was better able to hold it all together in the presence of a stranger. But Carson didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt like an old friend that she was meeting for the first time; maybe that was their family resemblance.

“What… what do you think happened to her?”

Carson heaved a sigh, withdrawing his hand.

“I’m not really sure. The way things are in town leads me to believe there’s a new drug or something out there, but I don’t know if that’s something Izzy would mess around with.”

Gemma’s eyes grew wide. A drug? Izzy didn’t seem like that type of person when Gemma met her. She seemed so happy and full of life. It was hard for Gemma to imagine her just throwing all of that away in search of a high.

“I don’t think she would,” she answered with more confidence than her experience warranted.

“But that doesn’t mean she didn’t get caught up in some of this business. She may not have known what she was getting herself into.”

Gemma’s fear grew exponentially. It was sounding less and less like Izzy took a spontaneous vacation and more and more like something truly terrible had happened.

Carson could see the transition in her features. He knew that look; he knew the look that someone had when all hope was lost and they started to accept the tragic inevitability. He didn’t want to see that look on Gemma’s face.

“Hey,” he said again, pulling her out of her morose thoughts once more, “we’re going to find her, okay? This is my baby sister. I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”

Gemma nodded silently, trying to hold back her tears. Staying up all night had her nerves frayed and her emotions on a razor thin edge. She wanted to believe what Carson said, but the dread inside her only grew more intense. Her eyes flicked up to him, looking for reassurance; she saw the determination in his eyes and knew that she just had to trust him. It wasn’t going to be easy, but if Carson said they would find Isabel, she knew that they would.

“Okay. You’re right. There’s no reason to give up just yet,” she conceded, wiping her tears away and lifting her mug to chug the rest of its contents. It was going to be a long day and she was going to need every bit of false energy the caffeine could give her.

“Right,” he replied, satisfied with her new found resolve. “So I think the next thing we need to do is ask her boss if he noticed anything unusual.”

She nodded her agreement and Carson gathered up the few notes he’d written down during their talk.

When the pair arrived at the restaurant, Carson immediately set out to find Mr. Santorini.

He found the old man at the bar with a double rum and coke already set in front of him. Carson glanced at the clock on the wall; it wasn’t even nine in the morning yet and the man was drinking?

His salt and pepper hair was mussed on top of his head and his face showed the tell-tale signs of age, complete with blemishes and wrinkles.

“Mr. Santorini?” Carson asked, drawing the man’s attention.

“Jim,” he corrected, not tearing his eyes away from his drink. 

“Right, Jim. I’m Carson, Isabel’s brother? I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?”

The older man’s expression changed at the mention of Isabel’s name.

“Yeah?” he asked in his thick northern accent, “well, I have some questions for her, too. She hasn’t shown up to work in a week,” he growled.

“Well, that’s what I’m here about,” Carson interjected before the other man could ramble on for too long.

Gemma joined them at the bar, sitting on the opposite side of Jim from Carson. They had him pinned in now.

“Izzy is missing,” Gemma said without fanfare.

“We’re trying to collect information on her activities in the days leading up to her disappearance. Did anything seem unusual about her behavior recently?”

The old man didn’t respond immediately and Carson thought that maybe he didn’t hear the question. Just as he was opening his mouth to repeat it, Jim spoke.

“Yeah, she was acting a little weird, I guess. She was cranky. Just chalked it up to that time of the month, you know? But she snapped on a couple of the regulars. I had a couple of complaints about her attitude and had to have a talk with her. She wasn’t getting many tips because of it and I told her that if she couldn’t straighten herself out that I was going to have to fire her.”

Carson frowned; the woman Jim Santorini described didn’t sound like Izzy at all. Izzy was bright, full of life, and never rude. Something was definitely wrong, and this description didn’t do much to ease his suspicions.

“Then what happened?” He prompted.

Jim shrugged.

“She never came back. I still have two paychecks for her in the register.”

Carson didn’t even have to look at Gemma to know what her face looked like. She was horrified and losing faith in him all over again.

“Okay, thank you Jim, you’ve been very helpful,” Carson said, dismissing himself from the bar and the tempting stench of alcohol.

“Oh, one more thing,” Carson said, turning back to the old man who appeared to be losing his patience.

“What’s that?”

“Gemma says that someone came in one night and was antagonizing Izzy. You wouldn’t happen to have surveillance around here anywhere would you?”

Jim Santorini grumbled and downed the rest of his double.

“I might. It’s gonna take a while to find the right tapes though.”

“Take your time,” Carson said sarcastically, “I’ll be happy to pay you for your trouble if you can get it to me sooner rather than later though. I am trying to find a missing person after all.”

“Don’t you give me lip, Carson Sanchez, I know all about you.”

Carson’s face darkened, his eyebrows casting a deep shadow over his eyes. Gemma actually took a step back from him in anticipation of the blood bath she was sure was coming.

“What do you know, old man? I know if you have that tape to me by the end of the day, there’s a thousand bucks in it for you. Deal?”

Carson’s hand smacked down on the bar, making the old man jump with surprise. He seemed embarrassed by his reaction and just nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered.

Carson picked up his hand and left behind a piece of paper with the date and time of the incident.

“Nice doing business with you, Jim.”

He led Gemma out of the restaurant, silencing any attempt she made at talking until they were secure in the confines of his car.

Like she’d been holding her breath the whole time, Gemma finally blurted out everything she was thinking in one long breath.

“We have to go to the police. Izzy wouldn’t do any of those things. Something is wrong. Someone kidnapped her or blackmailed her or… or…”

Carson closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the incoming migraine.

“Gemma,” he sighed, “calm down. She’s going to be okay. And we’re not going to the police.”

She turned on him, fury burning in her gaze.

“What? How can you say that? This is obviously a matter for the police. She’s
missing
Carson. Don’t you realize how grave that is?”

“Of course I do! This is my fucking sister. I’m not out here playing detective for fun, Gemma.”

“We’re wasting time arguing about this when the police could be finding her.”

“The police aren’t going to do shit. This is a small town. Everyone knows about Izzy and I’s relationship. They know about my history. They’re going to try to point fingers at me and waste all of their resources building a case against me instead of actually
finding
her.”

Gemma didn’t believe him. She didn’t know what it was like to be treated like less of a person because of her past. She didn’t know what it felt like to have everyone always expect the worst of her. She didn’t know that the cops regularly pulled him over or stopped him on the street just to try to find him doing something wrong.

She couldn’t understand. That wasn’t the life she lived. She was a good girl and grew up trusting the police. Carson was not like that at all. He knew how corrupt small town cops could be and he wasn’t about to trust his sister’s fate with them. If that meant Gemma was going to be angry at him, then so be it. He would rather have Izzy home safe and sound than keep this woman he just met happy.