Witchy Woman - Book 2 - The Necromancer

by Pamela M. Richter

  Luckily she had a small laser light on her key ring. It was tiny, but very bright. Then she noticed she’d dropped her keys when the lights went out and opened her hands to keep from falling on her face.

  She knelt painfully on her hurt knees, on the gritty concrete floor, and swept her hands in circles around her, feeling for the keys. The floor was dirty and probably covered with a thin film of oil, but she didn’t care. She started crawling forward on all fours toward where she thought her car was, stopping every few feet to feel around for the keys. She’d only been about twenty feet from her car when she fell, but it felt like she crawled around for hours.

  Finally she banged her head on the bumper of what she thought must be her own car. She felt along the bumper, knowing she would be able to tell if it was hers because she had placed a tiny plaque on the back of it that said, “Heroshi Hawaii.”

  And there it was; tiny, raised and square. Good, Michelle thought, she had a set of extra car keys in the wheel well. She felt around the back bumper at the passenger side back wheel and pried off the magnetic box containing the spare keys. Then she stood and ran her hand along the side of the car until she could feel the handle and lock.

  What a relief, Michelle thought as she unlocked the car and blessed light came on inside. It seemed brilliant and blinding after being in the dark for so long. Now that she could see, she looked around the garage behind her suspiciously. She still felt as though she was in danger. Anyone could be hiding behind one of the cement pillars, but it was probably nothing, she decided, as she pulled up her pant leg to see her knee. It was bleeding and scraped pretty badly. The other one was worse.

  Now Michelle needed to drive to the front of the building, look in the windows, and see if all the lights were out in the whole high-rise. The cleaning crew would be calling her soon if there was an electrical problem that wasn’t isolated to the garage, because they came in after-hours every night to vacuum, dust and empty trash. They couldn’t clean in the dark.

  She had one leg inside her car when she felt a sharp pin prick on the back of her neck. Then all went black again as she suddenly lost control of her muscles, falling forward into her car. Someone was turning her over on her back. She tried to open her eyes. It seemed to take an enormous effort to get her eyelids to move. Through a tiny opening slit between her eyelashes, she saw large dark eyes staring back into hers; eyes that were all black, as if they were composed completely of pupils. She knew those eyes. Oh hell, no, she though as she passed out.

  Then there were just sensations. Movement. Vibrations. She knew she was going in and out of consciousness. She felt like she was being moved in some kind of vehicle.

  Hands on her body...lying on soft leather...and then blessed unconsciousness...leaving stress and fear behind, leading to a long deep sleep.

  Chapter 6

  Heather was sunburned, sandy and happy. She’d spent the entire day with Mike until he had to get ready for his TV weatherman gig that night. When he left her at her apartment door he kissed her. It was their first; fast, forceful, leaving a lingering little sizzle behind.

  She sighed as she took off her sandy beach cover-up and bathing suit and stepped in the shower, wondering if she’d ever be adept surfing on the short board. Mike had been teaching her styling tricks. They were surfing on the Windward side of Oahu where the swells were much more intimidating than the gentle waves of Waikiki that she was used to. Mike stayed with her for a couple of hours to make sure she’d be okay with the larger waves. Then he paddled out further to get some of the big ones.

  It was fun and she loved being in the surf with Mike, but she couldn’t seem to get her sweet spot on the board that day and kept losing her balance. Her crashing falls off the board were nothing short of spectacular, she thought wryly. She wasn’t happy she had a scar from the lightning bolt situated right in the middle of her chest. She would probably never wear a bikini again. Today she was glad she had on a one-piece suit. There was no doubt she would have lost her top in the rough waves. They were sneaky. You didn’t even know the top part was missing ‘till you felt an odd little breeze and looked down. It had happened to her before. Can you say major embarrassment?

  Mike surfed like he’d been born to it, and when the big sets started rolling in later in the day Heather retreated to the beach to watch the eye-candy. Mike was bronzed, athletic and beautiful to her eyes in his swim suit.

  He had impressed her with his intellect the night before when he recited mathematical formulas for the makeup of diamonds and the exact formula for Newton’s Law of Gravity, but today she experienced a whole different side of him. His manner of speech changed dramatically on the beach into the native Pidgin Hawaiian spoken by the experienced surfers she met that afternoon. They were the real Hawaiians, the cool guys. It seemed like everyone on the beach knew and was pals with Mike. Heather was greeted with genuine friendship and treated with respect simply because she was with him.

  Heather was still in the shower when she heard the phone ring and decided not to get out. If it was important she expected whoever it was would leave a message or text.

  Sunburns leave you very sleepy and thirsty. Heather woke up after a little nap and found she’d been asleep much longer than she had planned. She turned on the TV, hoping to see Mike’s report. Damn, she was too late; they were already into the sports reports on the local station.

  As she was going into the kitchen for a drink of water she remembered to check her phone for the call she missed. When she opened it she saw she had two. Both were from Michelle; one saying she wouldn’t be home until after eight p.m. The next one came in at eight thirty, saying Michelle was on her way home. Heather had slept through the second call.

  Heather looked at her watch with alarm. It was almost nine thirty. She gulped the water and walked out the door and down the long hallway to Michelle’s condo. When she knocked there was no answer. Lucifer was making loud meows at the door, which Heather had never heard before when Michelle was home. It was like he was screaming and sounded mournful, sad and scared. The noises were loud enough to wake Michelle if she was inside and had gone to sleep, Heather thought.

  Heather had her cell phone in her hand so she pressed Michelle’s number again as she went back to her apartment. There was no answer.

  Heather turned around and went to the elevator. She was getting concerned. The way to check if Michelle arrived home was to see if her car was in its assigned space. She went to level 3 Parking and saw Michelle’s car in its usual place. That meant she had to be home now. But why was Lucifer screaming, and why wasn’t she answering her phone? Michelle was a night-owl and usually stayed up late.

  Heather went back up to her place and called again. The call went to voice-mail, like all the others. The last recourse was to check Michelle’s apartment. They had traded keys ages ago in case of emergency. This situation could be just that. After what happened last night, with Wendy falling or being pushed off Omar’s balcony, Heather was anxious about her best friend, especially with that damned, devious and deceitful Omar out of jail. He had a stalking thing going on with Michelle which was totally abnormal. He seemed to be fixated on her in a dangerous unhealthy way; wanting to be the father of her child. It was outrageous and scary.

  When Heather got to Michelle’s door she called out, “Lucifer, I’m coming in. I want to find Michelle.” She was a little afraid of the tiny cat.

  Heather took a deep breath and opened the door. Suddenly there was fur in her face and she grabbed it. Lucifer! He started the loud meows again as she held him as far away from her as she could with stiff arms. His blue eyes were wide and fearful.

  “Michelle, I used your key and came in,” Heather called out, still gazing at the cat, who was suddenly limp in her hands. He really looked kind of pathetic, Heather thought as she went inside and kicked the door closed, so she shifted him and held him like a baby against her shoulder. To her surprise he purred and patted her cheek, like she’d seen him do with Michelle.
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  Lucifer’s head was on her shoulder. He was a cute little bundle, Heather thought. She petted him and felt fur like soft, downy silk. Then he started the meowing again. The sound was excruciating and painfully loud with his cries right next to her ear.

  “Ouch, Lucifer,” she said. “That hurts.”

  The auditory decibels went down but the sad meows were continuous from the small cat as Heather went through Michelle’s place. It seemed to be totally empty. When she looked through the bedroom door, the room was vacant. To make sure she looked under the bed and walked into the bathroom, even peering inside the shower. Michelle wasn’t in her apartment.

  Heather wasn’t panicking or frantic yet. There could be a good explanation. Michelle could be visiting a friend or in the pool, although she couldn’t imagine her forgetting that they planned on going shopping together tonight. Besides, Michelle had called on her cell when she was leaving work.

  Heather went to the balcony lanai and looked down, where Wendy had fallen the night before. The yellow crime tape was gone and there were people in the pool, but Michelle wasn’t there.

  “Are you hungry, Lucifer?” Heather asked the cat. Then she felt silly, talking to a cat, until she heard a little low throaty growl from him. She hurriedly put him on the floor and went into the kitchen. Water and kibbles were in bowls on the counter, but Heather knew Michelle fed him other icky stuff—usually raw. She saw some cut up liver in a closed container in the refrigerator and put it in a dish.

  Lucifer leaped on the counter and started attacking it. He growled and shook each piece, pulling it out of the dish, placing it on the counter and holding it down with a paw, then tearing into it with his teeth. After he finished each segment of liver he licked off his paws. It was kind of revolting, reminding her of lions eating their prey.

  As she stood and watched the cat devour the uncooked meat, Heather called all her neighbors, asking if they’d seen Michelle this evening. No one had. Then she called 911 to report a missing person. She was told that she couldn’t file a report for forty-eight hours, but they would keep her first declaration to start the clock.

  Heather was just deciding to call Rod in Japan to find out if he’d heard from Michelle, when her phone beeped. Mike!

  “Hi-ya, Cutie,” Mike said. “I finally finished up at the station and wondered if you’d eaten. We could grab a bite if it isn’t too late.”

  Heather’s heart lifted. They’d spent the whole day together, and he wanted to see her again. It meant he liked her, even if she was an amateur surfer and spilled awkwardly on the board all afternoon in front of his expert surfing buddies.

  She paused for so long he said, “Sorry, I guess it’s too late.”

  “Not at all. I’m just a little worried. I can’t find Michelle and I need to call Rod in Japan. If he hasn’t heard from her, I’m going to have to go see Omar.”

  “Don’t do that!” Mike said.

  Heather frowned. It sounded like a command and she didn’t like it. “I’ll call you back after I see Omar.” She hung up and speed-dialed Rod. It was morning in Japan and he answered immediately at work.

  “Heather! Hi. Hang up and I’ll call you back. Let my company pay.”

  They clicked off. The phone rang. Mike. She sent it to voice-mail and Rod’s call came through.

  “Hey, Heather. Michelle said you had a new boyfriend. Want me to come over and kill him?”

  “Not yet, although I just hung up on him. See, I’m calling because Omar’s out on bail, and a woman fell off his balcony last night, and she died, and now I can’t find Michelle, although she left me a message when she left work cause we were supposed to go shopping tonight, and her car’s in its usual parking place here. I went inside her apartment and no one’s there, but Lucifer’s been screaming non-stop. So I’m getting worried. The police won’t let me make a missing person’s report for forty-eight hours, and with Omar and his nasty scheming mind getting out on bail just yesterday, I’m pretty upset. So I wondered if you’d heard from her today.” Heather stopped, almost out of breath.

  “Yeah, I did, I spoke to her this afternoon.”

  “Well, I tried all our neighbors, and no one’s seen her tonight. So I’m going up to Omar’s place and see if anything’s suspicious.”

  “Take someone with you. And call me back afterward. This actually sounds serious to me. We went on vacation just to let things settle down with Omar and all his tricky ways. I never expected he’d be out on bail so soon.”

  “I know,” Heather said mournfully. “I’ll get Mike to go with me.

  “Good. And take the cat,” Rod said. “He’ll know if Michelle’s there. Promise to call me back immediately.”

  “I will. Promise,” Heather said and hung up.

  She only had to wait seconds for Mike’s call.

  “Heather, don’t hang up. I’ll go with you to see if your friend is at that guy, Omar’s, apartment. I don’t want you alone with him. I think he’s dangerous.”

  “Thanks Mike. Big relief. I’m in Michelle’s apartment right now. How soon can you get here?”

  “Ten minutes. I’m in my car, driving over right now.”

  “I could hug you.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Threat or promise?” Heather asked.

  “Both.”

  They clicked off. Heather sighed with relief. She really didn’t want to go see Omar by herself. Now all she had to worry about was if Lucifer would attack Mike when he got here.

  Heather decided talking to Lucifer while she waited for Mike wouldn’t be totally stupid. It’s what Michelle would have done. She picked him up again and gave the cat instructions not to hurt Mike when he arrived. Then she promised Lucifer they would take him to search for Michelle.

  Mike arrived five minutes later and they went down to the lobby to access Omar’s private elevator that went from there exclusively to the Penthouse. Heather pressed the button for the intercom. A woman answered and after a minute she evidently got instructions to unlock the elevator for them, because the doors rolled open.

  “This is creepy,” Mike said as they stepped inside the plush cubicle.

  Lucifer had been silent and had ignored Mike studiously and totally. Now he gave out an angry squall.

  “We’re just checking to see if Michelle’s at Omar’s place,” Heather said to comfort the cat. “Then we’ll take you home.”

  Mike gave Heather a raised eyebrow look, but didn’t say anything. She’d told him a little bit about Michelle’s cat the night before.

  The elevator doors opened into the entrance foyer of Omar’s apartment.

  The penthouse took up the whole top floor of the building and the view from the floor to ceiling window was spectacular. They were facing the living room and across the expansive room they could see the entire panoramic view of the Waikiki coastline. It was disconcerting, knowing that a woman had fallen down from that height. Wendy had experienced several horrifying seconds to contemplate her death.

  A side door opened and Heather could see into a room that looked like an office or study, with several computers and a wall of file cabinets. A woman was coming toward them from that room. Heather had seen her several times before with Omar. One of his so-called witches. She was beautiful, of course, like all of Omar’s pet witches who stayed with him. Beyond her, Heather could see Omar sitting in the office with his back to them in front of a giant-screened computer.

  “Hi,” Heather said when the woman came up to them. She introduced herself and Mike. “We need to speak to Omar.”

  “I’m afraid he’s busy right now.”

  Heather sighed with annoyance. “Can you just go and ask Omar if he has seen Michelle this evening, or if she came up here?”

  “Who’s Michelle?” the woman said.

  A witch with a B, Heather thought. Of course, she had to be aware of Michelle if she’d been around Omar or any of his witches for any length of time.

  “We need to speak to Omar,” He
ather nodded in the direction where she could still see him through the office door.

  “I’ll go ask him. But he’s been here all evening, and we haven’t had any visitors.”

  They watched her go into the office and talk to Omar. He turned sideways and said something in response, so Heather had a good glimpse of his side profile.

  The woman came back. “He’s talking to someone about business and can’t come out right now, but I asked him. He said he hadn’t seen Michelle today.”

  “Thank you,” Heather said. She led the way back to the elevator.

  When they were inside Heather put her finger over her lips and shook her head, indicating that they shouldn’t speak. She was afraid Omar might have a listening device inside his private elevator, so he could hear what people were saying as they came and went from his place.

  Mike nodded.

  They took Lucifer to Michelle’s place in silence, and then went to Heather’s apartment. She felt like she was bursting with the news, and when they finally got inside she said. “That guy up there isn’t Omar. I‘m calling Rod in Japan.”

  When he answered she said, “I went to Omar’s place with my friend Mike. A guy was there. He acted like he was too busy to speak to us, but Rod, it wasn’t Omar. It looked like him, superficially, but I’m absolutely sure. I think Omar took Michelle somewhere and has a double up there in his penthouse, impersonating him. I’m putting us on speaker, so Mike can hear.”

  “You’re sure it wasn’t Omar?” Rod asked.

  Heather turned to Mike. “I’m asking Mike. You saw Omar last night down by the pool. What do you think?”

  “I only saw him in the dark last night, and just in side-view tonight, when he was relaying the message that he hadn’t seen Michelle. I’m really not sure, but doesn’t Omar have kind of a hooked nose? The guy tonight looked a lot like Omar, but his nose was straight and short.”