“And that you are one of those few.”
Thomas's gaze snapped to Cruz. “What are you saying, sergeant?” How dare he look at Thomas with such disrespect! How dare he even insinuate that Thomas was involved. “Do you know who you are talking to?” Slowly, he rose from his chair, hoping his six-foot-one height would intimate the boy.
It must have worked, for Cruz’s Adam’s apple slid to the bottom of his throat. But to his credit, his gaze never wavered from Thomas’.
“I’m not in any way implying you…”
Thomas blew out a snort. “Good.” He waved him off. “Now, go question the others who had access and leave me to my work.”
“I have questioned them, sir. But here’s my problem.”
Thomas remained standing, staring Cruz down, hoping he wouldn’t have to throw him out. No doubt Landry would hear of it and there would be hell to pay.
Cruz shifted his feet, confusion twisting his expression. “You see, no one elsealsohad access to the generator room. With your top clearance, onlyyoucould do both.”
Fear clawed up Thomas's spine, agonizing, debilitating fear. Shoving it down, he circled his desk and stormed toward Cruz until he was inches from his face. “How dare you!? I could have you locked up for slanderous lies and insubordination!”
Cruz backed away, a spark of terror finally crossing his eyes. “I beg your pardon, sir. I wasn’t insinuating…I mean, I wasn’t implying you… I only meant to ask you if you could think of anyone else who had access to both places.” He gulped again, his breath coming fast.
Good. At least Thomas was able to frighten the boy.
“No.” Thomas remained in place, spearing an angry gaze at Cruz. “You are wasting your time here when you could be finding the true culprit. Better yet why aren’t you focused on looking for Miss Griffin?”
The sergeant slipped his phone back in his pocket and attempted to compose himself. “I have people looking for her, sir, but the best way to find her is to discover who helped her and why. She is probably hiding out in that person’s home right now.”
Now, it was Thomas's turn to gulp. He spun around so Cruz wouldn’t see. “Good. Then be about it.” Resuming his seat, he began shuffling papers on his desk.
“Excellent, sir. I believe I’ll go back over what little we have on video and see if I missed something.”
Not until he heard Cruz walk out and shut the door did Thomas allow himself to breathe. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his temples where a headache brewed. One of many he’d had the past few days.
Cruz was smart, he’d give him that.Toosmart. He was getting far too close. Damn his suspicions. Still, without definitive proof, such as a video or fingerprints, there was no way he could pin this on Thomas. Not unless… no, certainly during the split second the outside cameras turned back on, none of them were focused on him putting Tori in the trunk. No way. Thomas was in the clear.
Then why did his heart suddenly feel like a pincushion?
Opening a drawer, he pulled out his whiskey and took a long gulp. And another. Then putting it back, he tried to focus on the paperwork before him. He’d interrogated two Deviants this week. It had taken two long days and threats to butcher his children before the first one—a man in his thirties—finally denied Jesus and vowed his allegiance to the NWU. But not the second one. Thomas had tried every tactic he knew to break the sweet lady in her sixties. He stared at the paperwork that marked her as “Irredeemable,” and recommending immediate execution. He hated this part of his job, hated it when he dealt with Deviants so far gone, there was no way to get them to see the truth. Hated that they had to be killed. But that rule came down from people above him. If they allowed these Deviants to live and spread their propaganda, the world would end up back where they started—with endless wars, poverty, destruction of the planet, and a society that could never advance to the global utopia it was destined for.
He quickly signed the paper and set it aside, his thoughts turning to Tori. The old lady had reminded him of her, stubborn yet kind, doomed, yet filled with joy.
Duties at work had stolen much of his time with her the past few days, but he hadn’t made much progress anyway. A vision of last night filled his mind. After they ate, she’d insisted they go for a walk along the shore, and before he could agree, she tore off her shoes and darted out the back gate. Following her, he halted and watched as she ran to the waves, kicking up sand, and giggling like a child seeing the ocean for the first time. Of all the clothing left here by the various women who had spent the night, she’d found the most modest—white capris and a button up blouse that was a little too small for her figure. Not that he was complaining as he watched her bend over to pick up a shell.
Ashamed of the direction of his thoughts, he’d shaken them away and headed toward her. She’d not asked why he had women’s clothing in his home, not that it would be too hard to figure out, but he wondered what she thought.Who cares, Thomas? You’re being an idiot.
She dipped her toes in an incoming wavelet, watching the foam hop over her feet. “You are so blessed to live right by the ocean.”
“I suppose.” Yet now that he thought about it, he rarely walked down to the water, let alone strolled along the beach as they were doing now. He’d bought the house because it was what rich, powerful people did. They owned mansions on the beach. Didn’t they?
Shielding her eyes from the setting sun, she smiled up at him. “Take off your shoes.”
“No. I don’t want to get tar on my feet.” Or sand or seaweed or accidentally step on a jellyfish that would sting. It was bad enough he’d had to hike up his nice pants.
They walked in silence for several minutes, a comfortable silence Thomas rarely found with anyone. But Tori was not just anyone. She was someone special who brought life and color to a gray world. And for that reason, he needed to save her. But how? “Tori, promise you’ll listen to me. I know you believe a certain way, but I want you to hear my beliefs too.”
“Of course. I’ll listen. As long as you promise to listen to me later on.”
Wind blew strands of her black hair across her face, and she flung them away, staring out over the ocean with such a peaceful look on her face, he was envious.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe in your God, the God of the Bible. I’m saying that He is not the good God. There is another god. You call him Lucifer, the light bearer. He is the true god. He is the good god, the one who truly loves mankind and who wants to create a utopia here on earth.” Thomas stepped over an incoming wave, groaning when it saturated the hem of his pants. “Your Bible reverses their roles, makes Lucifer out to be the bad guy when he rebelled against God. But why did he rebel? Because your God is a bully. He’s mean and wants to destroy people. He wants people to obey Him or else. Whereas Lucifer wants to free humanity to live life as we choose, no restrictions, complete freedom to do as we want.”
