Page 39 of Perfection

Chapter Eight

York skimmed his police ID over the computer lens embedded in the massive double doors.

“This place makes me feel small.” Kindra craned her neck, looking up to take in what she could see of the B-Gastions’ mansion and the twelve-foot-diameter chandelier suspended over their heads in the portico. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes.” But York thought the view of her kissable throat and lustrous golden hair a thousand times more intriguing than any glittering crystals and beads. And on the back of that admiration came disgust. How could he fall into the trap of finding GEI perfection attractive? Finally, he tilted up his head, too. “Like the rest of the house, it’s made to look quite old. Many of the lake houses are like that—antique chic. Who would have thought it? The new GEI fad.”

The door opened, and Fredrick B-Gastion himself greeted them. He was a young forty. His soft, blond, curly hair wisped around his ears, and his black pants and semi-casual tan jacket were tailored just right. He had a strong, trim figure that spoke of the perfect gene combination.

“This way.” He led them through a vast living area adorned with furnishings with clean lines, which lent a plush, artistic feel to the space. Since the preliminary investigation had already been done by the police, Fredrick headed straight to the child’s room. They moved onto an airlift that took them to the second floor.

“My wife hasn’t completed spiritual unity since…” B-Gastion’s words trailed off. They passed a unity room where Mrs. C-Gastion sat.

“We’ll need to speak with her,” York said, noting that the Gastions came from different generations.

“Later.” B-Gastion brought them to another doorway. “This is—was—Isabelle’s room,” he said to Kindra in a voice hushed with grief.

York encouraged Kindra to enter first, then came up alongside her in time to catch the heart-wrenching expression on her face as she scanned the child’s playthings. Her throat worked as if she fought to keep her composure, and her eyes seemed overly bright. Was this the naked truth of her emotions? She’d been so loving with her own daughter. He was beginning to think she had a soft spot that she valiantly tried to hide.

He asked quietly, “All right?”

She swallowed again. “Sure.”

York turned his attention to the room, which looked bright and cheery. He could almost forget a child had died here. The furnishings were sized for a two-year-old. A fairy-tale land complete with a robotic unicorn occupied a third of the bedroom. It was as if little Isabelle would bound into the room at any second.

“The room’s immaculate.” York sat in one of two adult-sized chairs and turned on the recording app on his spot computer. The computerized app would transcribe every word spoken and provide an analysis of tone and sincerity.

“Of course,” B-Gastion commented. “We have a Sally for every room.”

The room was quiet in a way a child’s room shouldn’t be. The adult voices seemed out of place.

“Was Isabelle in here when…when she passed?” Kindra asked coolly, apparently in control once more.

A pained look crossed B-Gastion’s face. He stared at York. “I provided your department with all the information I had yesterday. Why do I have to go through this again?”

“I’m sorry Fredrick,” York said sympathetically. “We don’t want to overlook anything. And Dr. B-Zaika has knowledge we don’t.”

B-Gastion turned on Kindra. “How could the genetics team make such an error?” he blurted, eyes full of rage. “Someone is going to pay.”

York casually leaned back in the chair, allowing his body language to set the tone. “I don’t think that’s the case, Fredrick. However—”

“Hold up a minute.” B-Gastion loomed over Kindra. “You know something. What?”

Kindra’s gaze locked on York. He hesitated, unwilling to share their discovery. A glint of panic blinked in her eyes. She was out of her element.

York stood, moved to the regional director, and rested a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. He had a right to know what had killed his daughter. “The evidence shows that Isabelle died of a virus—a new, unheard-of virus.”

B-Gastion blinked in confusion. “But how is that even possible?”

“Perhaps it was accidental, perhaps it was intentional. To get to you, maybe.”

“No. You can’t possibly think this has anything to do with me. Who would ever want to harm an innocent child?” B-Gastion looked at Kindra again and jabbed a finger at her. “It’syouwho has failed.”

Kindra’s face looked as unmoving as a sculpture, though York noticed she had gone pale as milk. Walking to the corner of the room, she extracted a small bag from beneath her arm. “I’m going to take a few samples.”

“The forensic team already did that.”

“I’m aware of that. But as you know, the analysis capability at Seville is the most advanced in the area.” York strolled to the window and peered out at the grounds below. “We’re using every resource at our disposal to find answers.”