Witchy Woman - Book 2 - The Necromancer

by Pamela M. Richter

  “The way you two fought...?”

  “We had fun! I don’t fight with people I don’t like. Sisters fight all the time.”

  Omar tried to hide a gigantic sigh. He’d never understand women. Now he’d have to sit on the bed and rub her back for a while. It was something he was willing to do because the stakes were high. Leilanie was strong and healthy, young and fertile.

  She’d easily carry a baby to term.

  Chapter 5

  Michelle got up early, looking forward to going back to work at Heroshi Corp. after a two week absence. She wondered what kind of mess she would find in her property management department. She smiled, anticipating a bit of chaos.

  She’d left without notice except for a telephone call from Rod, her boyfriend, who was managing director and comptroller of the whole multi-national corporation. Rod worked at the Heroshi headquarters in Japan. Her own boss, President of Heroshi Hawaii, Tom Mitsuto, couldn’t fire her or complain when someone so high in the corporation requested Michelle take a two week leave of absence.

  As soon as she got out of bed, Michelle practiced Karate for an hour. It was a ritual she started a few years ago, after being attacked and raped while she was on a trip to Las Vegas. She vowed she would never again be at the mercy of a violent man without being able to defend herself. Now she knew she could break bones and even kill if necessary to save her own life.

  Michelle also kept a gun in her bedside cabinet drawer. The scars she had received were permanent and visible on her body. She believed the invisible ones had been conquered; the panic attacks she couldn’t control or anticipate. Rod had helped her, and Heather’s friendship was also a vital part of her recovery. One of the perks had been some glorious sex with Rod after several years of enforced abstinence. In the aftermath of the rape, for years she couldn’t stand a man’s touch—it would send her into severe spasms of terror.

  The most important thing for the recovery, though, was that she had learned the truth about the attack. They say the truth will set you free, and in this case it had. She knew who attacked her and, most importantly, who ordered the attack.

  Samson Stoker was a huge man that Omar had adopted as a boy in Bogota, Columbia. Even as a child, Omar had seen Samson’s potential. He’d been one of a homeless gang of youngsters that ran wild on the streets in that South American town. When Omar found him, Samson had been badly beaten and his tongue was cut out.

  Samson grew into a huge man who was slightly brain damaged and mute. He didn’t know the difference between right and wrong. Omar had used his strength, loyalty and willingness to do anything for him because he had saved Samson from a wretched life on the streets, and given him one of luxury. When Omar told Samson to rape Michelle, he did it with relish.

  Now that Michelle knew who had attacked her, the fear of men and panic attacks she experience had subsided. But Samson hurt her so badly during the violent rape she had landed in the hospital for a month and had lost an ovary. The doctors said it was unlikely she would ever have children.

  Lucifer was still acting needy when Michelle finished her hour of Karate and took a shower. He followed her around so closely, she almost tripped over him a few times. She fed him and then petted him soothingly for a while.

  Michelle quickly flipped through the Honolulu Star newspaper as she sipped her first cup of coffee. Then she stopped, transfixed by the picture on the Society Page. Heather was laughing, high up in the air as Mike held her up over his head on the dance floor. He was looking up at her and smiling. It was a darling picture.

  The caption under the picture was, “Hijinks for the Hospital.” Michelle grinned and couldn’t wait to show it to Heather. They always had coffee and shared the paper in the morning before she left for work.

  As she was reading about the successful hospital benefit, there was a knock on the door. She didn’t recognize the usual pattern Heather made. Lucifer was at the door, the hair on his back standing almost straight up, tail switching back and forth.

  “Who is it?” Michelle asked as she went to the door.

  “Honolulu Police,” was the answer.

  Michelle peeked out and was surprised to see a uniformed officer standing at her door. She released the chain to open it. “It’s okay, Lucifer,” she whispered to the cat, knowing he would attack if he perceived a possible threat. She didn’t need a lawsuit from a maimed policeman.

  She wondered if a cat had ever been accused of a violent attack against a person, and didn’t think so. Dogs, of course, but there was always a first time for anything.

  The young policeman smiled as she opened the door wide, “I don’t need to come in. I apologize for knocking on your door so early. Just wanted to ask you some questions, since you live on this side of the building.”

  “Sure,” Michelle said.

  “Late last night a woman fell or jumped from the top of the building. Did you hear or see anything.”

  Michelle shook her head, startled, “No. That’s awful. Do you know who she is?”

  “Her name was Wendy Houser. She was staying with Omar Satinov.”

  “Oh my God,” Michelle exclaimed. From the policeman’s use of the past tense, she understood that Wendy was dead. “I saw her last night.”

  As Michelle explained about seeing Wendy while returning a gift to Omar, Heather appeared behind him at the door. She looked at the policeman and said, “Have you been up all night?”

  He nodded, “Pretty much.”

  “You two know each other?” Michelle asked.

  “We met last night,” Heather said. “Mike and I saw Wendy fall while we were sitting on my balcony. Scared the sh... snoodles out of me.”

  Michelle almost laughed. Heather was trying to keep from revealing her potty mouth with the policeman there.

  Heather continued, “So Mike called the police, and Tom,” she gestured to the officer, “interviewed us about it.” She shuddered. “It was just awful.”

  “Come in,” Michelle said. “Sounds like you both could use some coffee.”

  As she went into the kitchen she said, “I bet neither of you slept much.”

  There was a simultaneous “No,” from Heather and Tom.

  “Sit down, I’ll be just a minute,” Michelle said. “It’s already brewed.”

  As they sipped coffee, Tom asked Michelle questions about her interaction with Wendy the night before. He requested she go to police headquarters to make a statement. She might have been the last person to see Wendy alive.

  When he left, Michelle went into the kitchen and got more coffee for Heather. “I gave Wendy the diamond last night. She might have opened the envelope.”

  “She did,” Heather said. “We saw it in her hand when Mike and I went down to the pool area to see if she could still be alive. We saw Omar slink over and take the diamond before the police got there.”

  “Whoa, creepy. She was holding it when she fell to her death?”

  Heather nodded. “Yeah. Must have been.”

  “I know something happened to you and Mike, as well.”

  Heather shook her head.

  “Come on. I knew it the minute I saw you, when I came down to get the necklace last night.”

  Heather explained about the door of the glove compartment falling open and the near fatal collision when Mike was driving her home. “You were standing by the passenger side of the car, so you didn’t see the scrapes and the bumper that was smashed.”

  “Okay,” Michelle said. “You’ve got to stay away from me now. This situation is getting too risky.”

  “No way. You can’t be serious,” Heather protested.

  “I have to consider my mind a dangerous place. I had a vision of you wearing that necklace. I knew the dress you would be wearing, even though I’d never seen it. You could have been hurt or killed. I won’t take any chance of putting you in further danger.”

  “You’d never—and you don’t have the diamond any more, just supposing it is cursed, or has some nasty vile evil spirit.
..or something strange and weird.”

  “It isn’t negotiable,” Michelle said with finality. “But it’s only ‘till Omar’s back in jail.”

  “This isn’t cyberspace. You can’t just unfriend me, like I’m some casual Facebook friend.”

  Heather looked so hurt Michelle was immediately saddened. “You’re my best friend, Heather. I’m scared of putting you in jeopardy.”

  “That’s just what Mike said,” Heather said, pouting, almost under her breath.

  “He’s right. You better go,” Michelle said. “Take the paper with you. There’s a darling picture of you and Mike inside.”

  Heather immediately brightened. “Really? He’s still asleep.” She started pawing through to the society page. “Wow. This is great!”

  “He stayed over?”

  “On the couch, unfortunately,” Heather answered, still gazing at the newspaper picture. “You should see him sleep. He has eyelashes to die for; the blackest, thickest and longest you’ve ever seen. And he’s half Hawaiian, so he has this beautiful skin, like he has a light tan all over. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see all over.”

  Michelle was laughing.

  “See he didn’t want me to be alone after the shock of—well you know. He insisted he’d be perfectly fine and comfortable on the couch.”

  Damn, Michelle thought, she would sure miss Heather while waiting for Omar to be incarcerated. She was glad, though, Heather finally seemed to have found a man she liked.

  “And I really think he might be a genius,” Heather said as they walked to the door. “He thought the diamond was real. He has a master’s degree in geology as well as the doctorate in meteorology and he was quoting all these complex formulas about how diamonds are made, and how hard they are and everything.”

  Michelle had never heard Heather gush about a man before. It was so cute. She opened the door. “You better go. He might wake up and wonder where you are.”

  “I left him a note,” Heather said. “And I don’t care about Omar. He can’t dictate how we live. I plan to be knocking on your door tomorrow for coffee. And you better answer.”

  “Even Mike thinks you should stay away from me,” Michelle reminded her.

  “He doesn’t know you.” With that, Heather turned and hurried down the hallway.

  Michelle smiled and stayed at the door. She knew Heather would think of something more to say. She was right.

  Heather turned around, smiling wickedly, “I really need you to help me. Totally out of food, and you know I can’t reach anything. So, tonight after work. Then we can go to the mall and shop!”

  Michelle sighed. She hated shopping at the mall, but Heather was right. Omar couldn’t dictate how they lived and she really didn’t want to cut her best friend out of her life, even for a little while. Besides, Heather really couldn’t reach the top shelves in the grocery store. Not that she wouldn’t get immediate help from the bus-boys who worked at their local store; they were all madly in love with her.

  “Okay. But I might be late. I’ll call you from work,” Michelle said.

  Heather nodded, waved, and disappeared into her condo.

  Michelle rushed back inside, picked up her purse, patted Lucifer a goodbye and hurried to her car in the garage. She didn’t want to be late for her first day back at work. She pressed the button to take the rag-top down and heard the mechanical grinding sound as her car turned into a convertible and she made her way out of the garage.

  She needed to feel the sun and wind in her hair to shake out the cobwebs almost as much as she needed to breathe. Michelle looked at her watch and decided she could take the long way to work, along Kalakaua Avenue, so she could see the ocean and smell the salty warm breeze. The sea was bright blue and sparkling in the sun, making her eyes water as she took in the sight once again after her short absence. Tourists were already camped out on their blankets in the sun, which was barely over the horizon, and she could see surfers far out beyond the small rollers, waiting their turn to ride the waves in to shore on their boards. Damn, she thought, her heart lifting at the beautiful sight, I love this place.

  Her office was in the Honolulu downtown area, and she turned her car away from the ocean, making her way through increasing traffic to the high-rise building which was the corporate headquarters for Heroshi Hawaii.

  When she walked in the door, Tom Mitsuto, her boss and President of Heroshi Hawaii, was standing in the lobby in front of the huge desk, where Susan, the receptionist, sat. Susan was handing him a large stack of yellow post-it notes.

  Tom, a small Japanese man, didn’t smile when he saw Michelle. He gave her a small bow, then a handshake, and said “I’m glad you’re back, Michelle.” He handed her the pile of post-it notes. “These belong to your department, I believe.”

  Susan waited till their boss walked away, “Christ, am I glad to see you! You wouldn’t believe the complaints in your department. Tom’s been trying to run it himself. I give him the property management notes every day and he divides them up and distributes equal piles to the accounting, maintenance and building departments. I don’t know what they do with them. Probably throw them in the trash.”

  “Oh good grief,” Michelle said, laughing and shaking her head, as she read and sifted through the notes. “What a mess.”

  “Japan’s a day ahead of us. They’re going crazy, asking me what’s going on. Evidently that property guy, Rod Nakamura, who was here from Japan last month has been gone from corporate headquarters too, and... Oh my God! You were with him?”

  Shit, if Susan figured it out everyone would know. Michelle shook her head and put her finger over her lips.

  Susan leaned forward, whispering, “He’s so smart, and a real charmer. I won’t say a word if you promise to tell me all.”

  “You’re trying to bribe me,” Michelle whispered back, attempting to look stern.

  “Of course I am. We’ll have lunch and you’ll tell me everything.”

  “It’s a date,” Michelle promised.

  Lunch turned out to be a lovely dream. The day went by in a flash and Michelle was still working as the sky got dark. There had been leasing meetings for new tenants, handling maintenance repairs, financial projections for all six buildings, meetings with accounting to approve invoices for expenditures on the buildings, and a meeting with the construction department for space expansions for several of the tenants.

  She felt like she’d been trampled by a herd of elephants and knew she was wilting under the pressure. There were so many angry tenants that she hadn’t had time to soothe, but maybe tomorrow would be better, she thought, as she fixed her files and tried to put everything in order in preparation to leave. Her light was the only one left on the whole dark office floor.

  The one bright spot in the day had come with a phone call from Rod in Japan.

  Michelle saw the incoming ID on her cell and said, “You’re up in the middle of the night?”

  “Missing you and can’t sleep.”

  Michelle laughed, “Good try. More like the time change has your biological clock upside-down.”

  “Well, it sounded romantic.”

  The upshot of the conversation was that Rod’s father had contacted his mother after they visited him at his home in the Napa Valley of California while they vacationed together. Now Rod’s mother wanted to meet Michelle. Luckily, Rod’s mother was in Japan. Just the thought of meeting her made Michelle feel panicky.

  Michelle had been watchful all day for unnatural events, like the ones she experienced when Omar was on the attack and tried to sabotage her work, but everything seemed normal so far. There were no major disruptions happening in any of the buildings, just ordinary mechanical problems her maintenance teams could easily fix.

  Misbehaving inanimate objects was one of the main things to watch out for when Omar was trying to harm someone or do damage. He had the ability to influence electromagnetic energy. Some people had it to a minor degree naturally; clocks would stop or the TV would start acting up w
ith static when they were around. Omar could control this energy, and he used it destructively, to help him reach his goals. Many thought this gift was supernatural.

  Michelle was relieved that she hadn’t experienced anything abnormal on her first day back at work. It had been stressful enough, she thought, as she made her way out of the darkened office, down the elevator to parking, and into the underground garage.

  Michelle opened her phone to tell Heather she was on her way home so they could go grocery shopping in a little while. Heather didn’t answer so she left a message that she was just leaving work.

  Her heels clicked on the concrete floor and echoed in the almost empty garage. Her boss, Tom Mitsuto, was conscious of electrical costs and pinched pennies to the extent that all the lights were dimmed in the garage after-hours. It was kind of creepy. Michelle couldn’t even see to the far corners of the garage it was so dark. To add to the claustrophobic, oppressive atmosphere, the ceilings were low. Large square concrete pillars held up the ceiling.

  As she got to the back of the garage, where her assigned Property Manager space was located, she clicked her key ring to unlock her car’s doors. There was no answering beep from her car and she couldn’t see it because it was behind one of the big pillars.

  Then the florescent tube lighting in the garage ceiling started blinking in a static-like way—almost like a strobe light flickering for dancers in a night club.

  Uh-oh, Michelle thought. It was hard to run in heels but she started to panic. She ran, then stopped and quickly pulled off her shoes. This was the type of stuff Omar was adept at. Messing with electricity.

  She might be getting scared and had paranoia kicking in for nothing, but she wanted to get in her car and out of the damn garage as fast as she could. As soon as she had her pumps off, she ran barefoot toward her car, which she could finally see in its usual place.

  Then all light in the garage was gone—snapped out, total velvet blackness, encompassing and disorienting.

  With visual orientation gone she lost her balance, bumping her shin onto the edge of a car. She fell forward on her knees and with her forward momentum skidded to a stop on the hard concrete. Damn, that hurt. Her knees were probably bleeding.