Sara took a second look at Rachel. She hadn’t really noticed her attire with her long hair blowing about. Now that Rachel had pushed it back off her shoulders it allowed Sara the chance to see the outrageous way she was dressed. It deviated markedly from the conservative attire that Rachel normally wore. Sara’s mind went into overdrive condemning the apparel. She didn’t like overtly sexual garments and what Rachel was almost wearing fit into that category. Sara stared at the revealing camisole she had poured herself into. It seemed an inexplicable choice for a woman so top heavy. And why on earth she wouldn’t at least wear a bra was beyond Sara’s comprehension. Sara caught herself – how Rachel dressed when not at work was none of her business. She was here for her pet and not to be critiqued.
Rachel followed behind Sara as she headed for the Velvet’s cage.
“Yes, I’ll bet that’s it,” Sara continued her conversation, hoping Rachel would join in. It would help disperse the anxiety Sara was feeling. Even if it was irrational, it was there. Some polite conversation would also help take Sara’s mind off Rachel’s sluttish appearance – especially the hideous make-up. Yes, better to talk and not gawk. Otherwise, she’d find something else about Rachel to criticize. Sara was aware that judging others was a fault of hers. It was something she was working on, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. Sara kept her eyes averted – trying not to stare at Rachel. It was hard not to since the woman before her had breasts hanging down to her waist.
“No, no, it wasn’t,” Rachel said, her platform shoes clattering on the tiled floor. “And I suppose you’re right, about Velvet, I mean. Cats do have a sixth sense. I hear some people do, too. Sometimes after they’ve had a blow to their head. Seems to trigger psychic activity.”
Sara stood before Velvet’s cage. She looked up at Rachel. She seemed taller. Was she wearing higher heels to go with her trampy top and garish make-up? She resisted the temptation to look down. She kept her eyes level.
“I’ve never heard that before, but what was that first part? You said something about no? ‘No’ what?”
“No, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I agree with you about you not being able to stop yourself from being judgmental overnight. It’s a shame to lose it though – especially since you seem to have perfected it.”
Sara did a double take. How did she know what she was thinking that? It was impossible.
Rachel pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her shoulders. She smirked and expanded her chest. Her breasts were enormous and Sara found herself staring at them with displeasure. In fact, she was disapproving of everything about Rachel this evening. Her impudence, her make-up, her hair, the nipples that were popping through the thin cotton material …
“Ssssssssssssttt!”
The loud hiss took Sara’s attention away from Rachel. She looked and saw that Velvet was backed-up to the furthest corner of his cage. His back was arched and his ears were flattened. He was either frightened or threatened … or both.
“That’s strange,” Sara commented. She was concerned. It wasn’t like Velvet. He was such a mellow cat. Plus there was nothing in this scenario that should be upsetting him. Rachel was his owner. Rachel had been bringing Velvet in for regular visits for years. Sara had noted the loving interaction. No, it couldn’t be Rachel causing the defensive behavior.
“Perhaps he’s afraid of you?”
It was Rachel. Her voice came from behind – over Sara’s shoulder. She had managed to change places – although how was a mystery. Sara looked back at Rachel feeling the anger well up inside her. She didn’t much like Rachel this evening. She’d just have to use her medical training to keep calm and cool.
“And why would that be, Ms. Abbott?”
Rachel opened her mouth wide enough to see inside and began to laugh. Sara saw the red of her tongue and the white of her teeth. The contrast was stronger than it should be. She had the mouth of a predator – not unlike the cat she came to pick-up.
“Why would that be? You can’t be serious, Dr. Puhlman?” Rachel shot out putting a special sarcastic emphasis on Dr. It let Sara know that she had noticed that Sara had addressed her formally and that she didn’t like it.
Sara stood uncomfortably. She folded her arms across her chest. It was a take charge move. It meant the conversation was over and that Rachel should just take Velvet and go home or there would be consequences.
“Ms. Abbott, it really is late and …”
“But I haven’t even finished answering your question, Dr. Puhlman!”
Rachel was laughing again. She started to pace in front of Sara. Sara found it disturbing, but held her position. She was establishing territory – and her authority over it.
“Let’s see, maybe he’s upset that you didn’t find the lump! I did! I found it even though I took him in for visits on a regular basis. Now why is that? Negligence or is it you don’t care? Then there’s the operation. It looks like you’ve opened him with a can opener. Isn’t that right, baby,” Rachel murmured as she opened the cage. Sara had no choice, but to move. She didn’t want to have any physical contact with Rachel – especially since she appeared unhinged and crazed over her cat’s illness and resulting operation.
Sara watched Velvet try to back away. The terrified black cat lashed out at her owner’s prying hands with open claws. Sara gasped at the ugly open wounds, but Rachel seemed unfazed at the bloody tracks. She merely scooped up Velvet in her arms and caressed him against her chest. She kissed the top of his head – between his flattened ears.
Puhlman didn’t like what was happening. She found Velvet’s reaction highly unusual. It wasn’t from the medication. Velvet was suffering from the same disturbance that Sara was. They both sensed that Rachel was not herself. She was insane or drunk. Yes, it was very likely she was drunk out of her mind.
“Do you have a carrier with you? I can’t allow you to bring him home without one – especially in his condition.” Puhlman said not letting her nerves get to her. Rachel stood stroking Velvet.
“I’m afraid I’m fresh out of carriers this evening.”
There she went again! Where was this arrogance coming from? Sara took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Rachel was just upset. That was it. She’d had her cat for a good long time and was angry – and she had a right to be upset. It isn’t fair when you lose a pet, but then death isn’t fair to anyone.
Sara just wanted her gone. She didn’t want to put up a fight about a carrier even though everything inside her told her to put up a battle and not let Rachel take her cat home. She ignored her inner counsel. She would let her borrow a carrier. Then tomorrow. she would talk to Rachel after she settled down – when she became more herself. Sara didn’t know who this person was that was standing in front of her and apparently, neither did Velvet. He was shaking like a leaf.
“I have one you can borrow. It’s in my office.”
Sara heard the clump of Rachel’s shoes behind her. The sound disappeared when they reached her carpeted office. Sara brought down a carrier from one of her overhead shelves and set it on her desk.
“Someone left it here. You can bring it back whenever. No rush.”
“You’re so kind … about some things.”
Sara had had it. The day, this week, the death of Dusty. She wasn’t going to be pushed around by a hostile pet owner that didn’t get it through her head that Sara didn’t cause Velvet’s illness. She was the one that tried to help.
“Help? You call this helping?” Rachel screamed. She had once again read Puhlman’s thoughts. She didn’t know how she was doing that, but she didn’t like having her private thoughts aired. It was unnatural and added to the creepiness of the situation that was spinning out of control.
Rachel’s left hand was under Velvet’s haunches. Her right hand was under Velvet’s front legs. She used them to lift Velvet up until his underbelly was on view. Dr. Puhlman was treated to seeing the shaved belly mutilated by her attempt to remove the tumor.
“Ms. Abbott! You’re going
to break open those stitches if you persist in handling Velvet that way! I must insist that you …”
“Insist? You’re in no position to insist anything,” Rachel replied calmly.
Rachel took a step towards her. Sara reminded herself that Rachel was just a woman and could do her no harm. Sara had training in kick boxing and worked out every day at the local gym. It helped relieve the tension and perhaps now it would come in handy.
“Miss Abbott, I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to leave either with or without Velvet. I don’t care which, but I need to go home.”
Rachel continued to advance on her. Sara held her ground. She felt Rachel’s chest touch her first. Rachel leaned her face into Sara’s personal space. Sara looked into Rachel’s eyes. They were so luminous. Like they each held an ocean inside – a vast purple ocean.
“You really didn’t think I’d let you get away with doing this to my Velvet, did you?”
She was still holding Velvet under his forelegs. His belly was stretched and his hind legs dangled. Sara didn’t want her little patient held that way. It was irresponsible to stretch out the stitches in the incision. The wound might break open.
“I’ve warned you before! Don’t hold him like that. Can’t you see that you’re hurting him?”
“Me? I’m not the one that took a rusty saw and did a magic act on him. Oh, but then you get paid the same whether you do a bad job or an incompetent job because that’s all you know how to do. Too much for you to actually care whether another shelter cat lives or dies?”
As Rachel spoke, she leaned down and released Velvet gently on the ground. Sara watched Velvet run to the corner and hide under a table. Sara knew there was going to be a physical altercation. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that there was nothing she could do to prevent it although she’d try.
“Look, Rachel, you’re upset. And he’s not a shelter cat, he’s your cat. I love animals. It’s why I became a veterinarian and …” Sara stated taking small steps backward. Rachel kept pace. Sara turned and ran. She reached her desk and grabbed her cell phone, but not before she felt Rachel’s arm around her neck. Dr. Puhlman’s head was snapped backwards into Rachel’s chest. Sara struggled against the arm that held her. She heard Rachel whispering in her ear.
“You’re not getting away with it, Dr. Puhlman. Not anymore. I’m not going to allow you to kill any more pets because, frankly, they’re more important than you are.”
Sara felt herself spun around by her shoulders. The cell phone she’d been holding smashed to the floor. It broke apart – pieces flying on her carpet. Sara’s instinct to protect herself kicked in. She remembered her training and tried to put up resistance. Her blows were easily deflected. She was no match for Rachel. She was overpowering Sara. Her strength was phenomenal. It was impossible that anyone could be that strong – man or woman. It was an inhuman kind of strength.
Sara grabbed at her face. Rachel caught her hand in midair and twisted it to the side. Rachel used the arm that had just been torn open a few minutes earlier. She’d just witnessed it happening, and yet when Sara looked to the spot raked open by Velvet’s claws, she saw nothing. The gashes were gone.
“But … how?” Sara asked to no one in particular. Rachel merely laughed and hissed in her face. She squeezed her lips back and Sara saw the long, white incisors. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t be, but everything was happening so quickly.
She stared into Rachel’s violet eyes while one long, slender hand slipped around her throat – the other arm casually held at her side. It demonstrated the minimal effort it took for Rachel to contain her. A moment later the force of a boa constrictor was crushing her windpipe. Sara was lifted in the air and held off the ground by her throat – dangled as if she were a toy. Women didn’t have that kind of strength. Sara knew that. She didn’t understand. She kicked her feet to try to get Rachel to let go, but her punishing kicks yielded no result. Rachel acted as if they didn’t even hurt. She just kept squeezing her hand.
Sara was fully three feet in the air. Rachel’s right arm was out straight and holding her over her head. Sara began tearing at her fingers, trying to pry them loose. She was making grunting sounds begging Rachel to stop. Rachel ignored her frantic attempts and strolled to the far wall. She brought Sara close to her face – giving her a sardonic grin before smashing her entire body against the wall. Sara’s body was rocked with pain from the massive blow. Her spine felt as if it had been damaged. Her feet dangled helplessly as Rachel pinned her against her office wall. Her head felt as if it’d been split open.
Sara looked around the office. A light came through the window and left as quickly. It was probably a car cutting through her lot. They did it all the time. She thought about her life and the husband and the children they’d planned to have. They’d agreed on two – even picked out names. They would have been so perfect. A mix of her intelligence and his beautiful, ready smile. He was always so kind. A gentleman. It’s what had first attracted her to him. They had met in college and waited to get married and then waited to have children until she had her practice established. When it was, they waited until they bought their new home and then came the emergency in his family. Starting their family again was delayed and now …
Sara caught sight of Velvet’s yellow eyes watching the struggle from the safety of the corner. She wondered what he was thinking. Rachel loosened her grip around Sara’s neck, shifting her hold to under her chin. She was relieved that the crushing pressure was gone from her throat, but she wasn’t relieved for long. She felt Rachel Abbott’s fanglike teeth bite deeply into her neck. She let out a brittle cry when she heard the soft sucking sound that she knew would continue until she was entirely drained of blood.
Sara tried to speak – it came out clumsily. The fight, the grip around her neck all had sapped her of sense and the ability to enunciate clearly. She used a hoarse whisper for she had to tell somebody her last thoughts and so she spoke to the only creature in the room that cared.
“Goodbye, Velvet. Tell Roger I loved him.”
CHAPTER 14
“But that’s insane! He killed himself over a pair of candlesticks? What a waste! What an absolute waste!”
Miranda’s voice was affected by the concern and upset of the situation. It was obvious that the feelings she expressed were genuine and not put on for show. Reginald knew Miranda wasn’t like that. What you see was what you got. Again, Reginald’s mind wandered back to her father.
“So alike,” he muttered absent-mindedly to himself. Cheryl had left hours ago. He had stayed behind to think and sort things out. There was something there – something about Figgs and this situation. Something right on the tip of his tongue, but when he tried to grasp it, it ran away into the dark clouds of the past.
“What was that, Reginald? Couldn’t hear you,” Miranda prodded.
“Nothing, Miranda. Just agreeing that it was indeed a waste.”
“Well, of course it is! He leaves behind a wife … and children! What a coward!”
“I don’t know, Miranda. There may have been other extenuating circumstances that we don’t know about that …”
“That his wife will have to face …. alone, I might add!”
Miranda’s outburst interrupted Reginald’s sentence. He had to concur that she was right. Herbert Pinckus’ wife would have to face everything by herself now – she’d be forced to.
“And Figgs? The man must have lost his mind!” Miranda shouted continuing her rampage. Reginald had telephoned Miranda to brief her about these recent tragedies, but in a very profound way he regretted making the call. He could have accurately predicted that she’d react this way to the awful news, but there was the rest as yet unspoken. How Miranda would react to that information was anybody’s guess, but getting it out was the hard part. How could he possibly broach the difficult subject that he needed to? He didn’t have a clue, and yet he needed to convince her that the suicides were connected. He was sure of it, but what evidence did he have besides
the timing and his intuition telling him so? Oh, yes, two notes and an implausible story that had included the word, “vampire.” That was conclusive evidence if he ever heard it. He’d be laughed out of the courtroom if he ever relied on that flimsy sort of circumstantial evidence as proof of anything other than two men not thinking clearly and losing their grip on reality.
“Miranda, there’s something else about the deaths. It’s difficult to say …”
“Well, then just spit it out!”
Miranda could always be counted on for impatience. He could hear her dainty size 7 foot tapping into the ground.
“It’s not that simple. It’s complicated. It’s difficult to … what I mean to say is that there’s this odd …” Reginald paused, searching for the word he wanted to use. “… coincidence,” he said satisfied with his selection.
“Reginald, are you trying to tell me these two deaths are connected?”
Adduné (The Vampire's Game) Page 17