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A weight lifted from her shoulders. It left her with a strange lightness in her core. Shaking off the last two years of confusion, endless study, and unsociable work hours enlivened her. Tarant could employ all his extensive charms. She would never fall into the dark pit of his affections again.
Lexi cooked up a quick macaroni cheese and hoped Garima would visit her before going back to the church.
Sure enough, he returned her truck with an apology just before lunchtime. “What a nightmare!” he exclaimed. He tore off his white collar and released his top button, but not before dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “I know what today is,” he soothed. “I lit a candle for Rand before my day turned to custard.”
“Thank you.” She tensed, resisting the tightness in her chest. One day, she would need to excise the wound and deal with the pain.
Garima eyed her with perception and changed the subject. “I made it to Mr Bollinger just in time. Then, I rushed to hear confession when the church opened at six. Three hours later, I walked into the police station and that odious officer from the other day locked me in a room and left me there to sweat.”
“But they didn’t arrest you?” Lexi dumped a plate of macaroni in front of him. She lifted piping hot cutlery from the dishwasher for him. The handles burned her fingers.
Garima shot her a grateful smile. “I think I’m okay now,” he admitted, acknowledging her efforts not to contaminate his implements. But he didn’t answer her question about his arrest. Instead, he dug the fork into the food with a sigh. “Yum. My favourite.”
“I wasn’t sure of your mental fortitude when I woke to find you’d gutted my kitchen.” Lexi sat opposite and raised a speculative eyebrow. “Am I such a slovenly housekeeper?”
“Boredom more than anxiety.” He tapped his breast with his left hand. A blister pack sent a forlorn crinkling sound from his inside pocket. “I’m back on track now. Everyone needs me to steer the canoe.”
“Who called Lachlan?” Lexi picked at a knot on the table’s edge. Brother and sister maintained polar opposite relationships with their birth father. Garima forgave everyone. Lexi didn’t. She tried hard not to clench her teeth as she spoke their father’s name.
“I did.” Garima rose to grab water from the tap before returning to his food. His nose wrinkled at the lemon scented glass. He’d overdone it with the cleaning if it sickened even him. “The police didn’t take away my phone, though I imagine they listened to all my calls. I waited for a while for them to question me about my statement. When they didn’t come, I figured I might need help.” He grinned up at Lexi. “I ignored the dirty table and the dust on the floor. That’s great, isn’t it?”
Lexi feigned an enthusiastic clap, and he laughed. “So, how did you use your time in the clink?”
Garima’s expression lightened. “I sent an awful lot of emails, wrote my sermon for Sunday and organised the volunteer roster for the next month. Isn’t technology wonderful? I found a fantastic app for taking notes and emailed everything to myself.”
“So you’re up to date with work.” Lexi smiled with approval. But her sarcasm wouldn’t remain quiet. “Great use of time. Our absent mother is glowing with pride wherever she is.”
He frowned, and she regretted her spiteful segue. “I called Dad after the first hour elapsed,” he continued without comment. “Figured he’d know what to do.”
“And he sent the formidable Kelly Lomas.”
Garima snorted. “That’s when the fun started. Two police officers appeared wearing rather red faces. Rojas couldn’t get a word in edge-wise. Kelly just ran right over him with legal threats and ramifications. Grunwald claimed no one notified him of my arrival. He looked very unhappy with his colleague. Especially when Rojas admitted he showed me to the interview room.”
Lexi suppressed a wide grin. She hid it behind her hand. But her mind sent telepathic thanks to the dogged, abusive lawyer with the heart of stone. “Did you count her swearwords?” Lexi closed her eyes to enjoy Garima’s retelling. She opened them to find him frowning at her. “What?” she demanded.
“Love the sinner and detest the sin.” His serious expression wiped the smile from Lexi’s face. Sometimes, she couldn’t tell when he was joking.
She blew out an infuriated breath as he finished his lunch. “Could you look at this for me?” she asked. Lexi turned the laptop to face him and woke the sleeping image.
Garima blinked at the pixelated photo. A grainy face squinted at him from a reflection in a window. “What am I looking at?” He used the keyboard mouse to zoom out to a reasonable distance. “Children. That’s the Christian camp just above Rangiriri.” He cocked his head. “May 1995. It says so on the bottom.”
Lexi huffed and nudged his elbow. “I know all that!” she grumbled. “But look at the photographer. What’s he wearing?” She zoomed in to view the long floor to eaves window which reflected the man’s entire body. It froze the moment in time. Her heart rate ticked higher, the huntress sensing something strange about the image.
“Oh.” Garima’s fringe touched the screen as he squinted at the picture. He zoomed out and then in again. “That little boy’s arm bisects part of his reflection, so I can’t be certain.”
He sat up and frowned at Lexi. Her eyes sparkled with the thrill of the chase. “The photographer is a Catholic priest, isn’t he?” she gushed. “Wearing a dress thing over his robe.”
Garima winced. “A chasuble. A red one by the reflection.”
“What does that mean?” Lexi demanded. “What’s the difference?”
“It means the priest took this photograph either on Palm Sunday, Good Friday or Pentecost. Seeing as someone labelled the photograph as May 1995, I’d lean towards Pentecost. Why?” His brows drew together into a heavy line. “Are you investigating a historical sexual abuse complaint for a children’s camp?” His cheeks lost their healthy tan and became waxy and grey. He dipped forward again and zoomed in to the priest’s face. His lips tightened into a thin line.
“I don’t know,” Lexi mused. “A man engaged us to find a friend from this photograph. He claims he lost touch with them and wishes to reconnect.” She clicked her fingers. “But there’s something very hinky about it.”
Garima gulped and hurled himself back in his chair. He shoved the table, and the force skidded him across the floor. When he rose, he appeared unsteady on his feet. “I should leave,” he said. “Jock will need his car.” His wooden tone set Lexi on red alert. She stood and snatched hold of his forearm.
“Jock doesn’t need his unroadworthy vehicle this second. What’s the matter? What did you see?”
Garima squeezed his eyes closed, as though unable to face her. His lower lip wobbled, all his earlier confidence gone. Over two hours alone in a police interview room hadn’t shaken him. But a photo of frolicking children from almost three decades earlier had rocked his world. “This is awful,” he breathed. “It’s too horrid.”
“Tell me!” Lexi insisted.
But he wouldn’t say another word.
