Planned Coincidence: A Thrilling Suspense Novel (International Mystery & Crime)

by Dana Arama

  “I’ll be happy to help you with that. I’ll make sure Mikayeal knows how impressed you are with his painting. All we need to do is settle the payment and it’s yours.”

  I pointed with a big flourish toward the front desk. “We’d be happy to help you place it securely in your car or, if you'd rather, I can arrange a home delivery at your convenience?”

  He examined me with the most piercing green eyes I had ever seen. “I’d like to see more of what you offer here.” There was a completely different ring in his voice. I didn’t know that then, but this was all part of his seduction technique.

  Completely taken by surprise, I looked at him for a moment. He affected many personalities. It was less than an hour since I first met him, and already I recognized the cheeky thug from the parking lot, the warm sensitive Russian man who discovered the painting on the wall, and now, all of a sudden, an alluring man who made me feel naked, even though I was decently covered. I felt both fascinated and scared. I already knew this man was dangerous, but his curious and examining look pushed me forward.

  “Splendid. Let's begin here.” I walked over to the northern corner of the gallery. He stopped behind me, standing too close. I could feel the heat emitted by his large body. He was different from anyone I had ever known. I could not figure him out. He moved within the boundaries of proper etiquette like a professional dancer, barely touching the limits, but always very close.

  That was the only thing about him that reminded me of Pierre. Dan, Pierre, and Sergey were so distinct, yet they all played a part in my life. I wondered what made the men in my life make me feel so fragile. Had the girl from Or-Ye’Hudah lost her self-confidence, her passion, and her courage? When did she part from all these and turn into a woman in desperate need of validation? Why did I need Sergey to make me feel alive and happy again, or Pierre to make me feel successful again? Why was it that I could only feel secure with Dan around?

  I was rapidly examining all the ports I ventured through in my sea of life that may have shaped me this way. The first one, without a doubt, was my brush with death. I always felt that a fourth grave was missing alongside the three where my parents and sister were buried after the accident. Their death brought endless loneliness and sadness.

  Financial worries came along pretty quickly. Being deserted by my friends was soon to follow. There Pierre had played the lead role. I had always believed that the most disappointing moment of all was also the most influential one in our relationship. The second port made me lose my independence, my freedom and my endless need to live life to the fullest. This was a small price to pay for the renewed sense of belonging Robbie’s birth gave me. I already had a family, but my son became the only person on earth that would always be mine. I was willing to take all of the Korman’s filth for him, and then some; I was willing to lose myself. Was the so-called independence I enjoyed today nothing but a caramel coated rotten apple? Deep inside, my heart knew the answer.

  The phone rang. I answered, and he asked in his deep, seductive voice, “Second thoughts?” My skin, with razor sharp goose bumps, had the answer for this one. I knew Sergey was waiting impatiently. Weeks of wooing me persistently were to reach their climax today.

  “No,” I answered decisively. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Are you already at the hotel?”

  “Yes. I’m waiting for you, and the champagne is, too. This is our day to celebrate.”

  Lately, between having meals together and many phone conversations, I learned that both the low-life thug and the romantic pursuer would emerge simultaneously in him. At times, I would see his black Mercedes by the gallery’s entrance. Sergey would soon enter the gallery, bringing with him boxed food from one of the top restaurants in town. His bodyguards would wait outside until we were done eating, and then the driver would drive by to pick them all up. Other times, he would try to get me to close shop early and accompany him to dine out of town. His persuasion worked sometimes.

  With every encounter, I found myself getting more and more excited to see his black car stop by the gallery. Despite that, I convinced myself that he was no more than a client and found no real reason to discuss him with my husband. I had nothing to hide, but also no reason to wake the monsters under the bed. It was my little secret, and in my own space, it could exist. I enjoyed the conversations with my new friend. He was truly interested in me and my world. He asked about Dan, business, our relationship, about Robbie and his hobbies. Sergey made me feel so good that there were moments I pondered if I was rediscovering love.

  The intensity of our connection stemmed from our feeling of mutuality. Sergey shared his world with me as well. He spoke of a horrible, lonely childhood spent in an orphanage in Russia. He found himself there after both his parents were discovered dead in their bed. “When I was old enough, I asked to see the police report,” he told me. “There, it said they were found in bed, stabbed to death. ‘There was no sign of the boy there,’ they wrote about me.” I thought how lucky it was they didn’t kill him too.

  “Who called the police about the bodies?” I asked.

  “Presumably me, but I have no recollection of the event.” I trembled at the mere thought of a ten-year-old finding his parents dead. I believe it was this event that made him develop that dangerous gangster persona.

  It was a while before I learned that he was the one who had stabbed them.

  I reached the hotel and drove into the underground parking lot. The dim lights gave me the anonymity I sought. I opened the parking level door leading inside to the elevators. The light turned on. I intentionally avoided looking at the mirror. I casually stepped inside the elevator. My shaking hand pressed the button for the suite’s floor. The elevator stopped at the lobby floor and an elderly man and woman stepped in. They were having a quiet conversation in heavily pronounced American English. I watched them as they talked while holding hands. For a moment, I was fogged by a cloud of doubt, but it cleared up rather quickly. It’s now or never, and I’ll regret the never, I thought. It might be the romantic spirit between those two that brought the realization that life is too unpredictable to ensure I’ll ever experience another thrill. The elevator stopped and the couple stepped out. Silence consumed the elevator and I could hear my rapid heartbeats. Two more floors and it will finally happen, I thought. I will walk down the long dark corridor that will reunite me with the part of myself that I had lost long ago.

  The elevator doors quietly tore apart and I emerged into a dimly lit corridor. The sight of an orange sun beginning to set peeked through the big window at the far end of the hall. I managed to catch a glimpse of the blackening sea and it lifted my spirit as my feet carried my yearning body onwards.

  It was A’s turn to stand guard outside the door. His eyes were examining me from the moment I appeared. I stared back at him with a curious look. His eyes remained empty. He gave me an approving nod and moved aside. Before I could knock, the door was pushed wide open and a thick, sturdy set of arms swept me in passionately. I was pleased, thinking he was waiting for me, and sank into a deep intoxicating kiss that marked my dissipation. All the tension that had been building every time our eyes met, our limbs bumped, every phone conversation – it all led to this climactic moment. I surrendered to this man who was kissing me. I could not believe it, but I completely forgot Dan at that moment. Sergey ended the kiss abruptly and stepped away. A moment later, he was perched in the elegant armchair in the corner of the room, leaving me just standing there near the door. “I want you to undress.”

  “What? Just like that? You’re going to watch me while I undress?”

  “Exactly. I’ve been fantasizing about this moment for such a long time. I want to watch as you slowly take your clothes off.”

  There was something peculiar about his expression. I have never encountered such a demanding expression in any of the other men I’ve been with. “Okay." I smiled at him. “This is new for me. I’ll try it.”

  “Imagine you need to sell yourself for a large amo
unt. Your life depends on it.”

  His legs were open and straight, his arms laid crossed over his chest. His body language didn’t show arousal. Suddenly, I felt worried. I walked over to the table, where a glass of champagne was waiting for me. I took a small sip, leaving him anxiously waiting. He followed my every move.

  “You’re scaring me,” I said with a laugh.

  He said nothing.

  I started undressing in front of his watchful eyes, which began shrinking, making his pupils expand. The air between us was thick and moist.

  “Turn slightly, so I can see where your ass meets your thighs.”

  I did as he asked and slowly turned. I turned my head a stole a glance at him. He had unzipped his pants and was stroking his member.

  “Turn around!” He ordered once again, “Turn around and touch yourself…”

  He was breathing heavily. Finally I could hear sounds of sexual arousal. Now facing away from him, I began taking off my lacy black lingerie. I wiggled my curves until I got out of them. I let my hand fall in between my legs. The heat I felt there matched the heat spreading across my cheeks. And yet, I continued pleasuring myself. Familiar sensation of pleasure made me groan. My pelvis began to move rhythmically. The movements reminded me of an ancient dance used by women to seduce men. For a split second I turned my face away as I leaned on the small, round table to retain my balance while I took my stilettos off. With that same mysterious ability to be everywhere, I felt his body tight to mine. Another split second and he was in me.

  There was nothing romantic about it, but, still, I was aroused. He took me standing, still leaning on the round squeaking table, as if I was a whore. No soft caress, no cries of love. We were just bodies melting into each other. The orgasms came in waves and my moans were uncontrollable. My inhibitions were defenseless in the presence of the bad boy in him, and without them, I could reach new and exciting levels. He shoved himself into me again and again until he let out a savage roar.

  In bed, after our first shower, I was mesmerized by the countless tattoos covering his body. While tracing them with my finger, I asked, “When did you manage to get so many tattoos?”

  “In Russia. We have real artists there. I used to consider this art.”

  “I suppose you have a point…” Now I was tracing them with my lips… my tongue. “They certainly raise a lot of questions… isn’t that what art’s all about?”

  “You’re teasing me…” He rolled me on my back, lay close to me and added, “You’re mine now.” There was something strange about his confident tone. “You’ll never forget this day!”

  “Sergey, really, I was very clear about this. I always said that if we were to have an affair, it would be a one-time thing, so we should make the most of it.” I smiled to soften what I was saying. “I’m not one for having flings. I nearly didn’t make it out of the elevator tonight.”

  “No matter who you’re with, I will be the one you think of…” He slowly parted my thighs, rolled onto me, and while hammering his member into me, whispered, “Only death will part us.”

  Oh my goodness… what did I get myself into? I thought as our fingers entwined. I wrapped my legs around him, his heaviness and inner stealth bringing a new wave of arousal. This man’s dangerous for me, was my last thought before the tsunami emerging from my legs reached the shores of my body, leaving it in total tremor.

  ***

  I shut the door behind me as I stepped into a gloomy corridor. The bodyguard looked the same as before, but everything else seemed different. I reached my car in the underground parking lot and got in. I felt as if my body was still on the top floor. The car seemed to drive by itself while I repeatedly reminded myself of what I had vowed before this encounter: This will be a sole incident. A one-time fling. You’re no longer that daring young woman. I silently delved in that thought, but the fuzzy cloud I was in tempted me to think otherwise. I was floating in my own bubble, totally oblivious of the car following me. Many years would pass before I would learn to identify cars tailing me.

  Chapter 3

  The afternoon gave way to an exceptionally cool evening. I snuggled deep in my shawl, but it didn’t do much against the chill. I lay down on my porch swing with a book on my knees as a staged prop. I found it hard to concentrate, and my fascination with the last beams of sunlight making their way through the trees made it even harder. We were alike - a quick glimmer swallowed by the emerging darkness. What was it about him, this man who could shine light on those parts of me that had been in darkness for so long? I knew very well how. The answers came in layered flashes of sensations, starting with the pleasure of renewed emancipation and through youthful rejuvenation. I had all the right answers.

  A sudden chill crept up my spine. I went back inside, turned the heater on and sat in the living room. The clock on the wall told me the tournament was over. At any second, Robbie and Dan would storm in. The tension was killing me. On the one hand, I needed more time to work through the events of the day. On the other hand, I was anxious to hear how it went. I was hoping for a victory. Robbie’s gloating over it would help mask my exhilarated state. As I was starting to enjoy the warmness spreading through my organs, the intercom speaker began buzzing. Someone was at the gate. I turned on the screen and the front lawn spotlights. A young police officer was standing in front of the camera, asking to come inside. Another officer was waiting inside the patrol car. I buzzed the gates open. On the screen, I could see the officer getting back in the vehicle, which started slowly up the driveway. I opened the front door and waited there. Since adultery is still not a crime, I thought to myself, they are probably here as

  part of an ongoing investigation of the recent

  thefts plaguing the neighborhood. The car stopped at the end of the drive. The officers stepped out of the car and began gazing around. There were ample fruit trees in the front yard but only the loquat tree was blossoming. At the foot of the trees, lilies had emerged to bask in the warm winter days and the light of the garden lanterns. Now I could see them properly. One of the officers was a woman.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Korman. I’m Deputy Chief Yosefov and this is Lieutenant Shcori. We’re from Messubim Station.”

  I detected a reserved tone in his voice as we shook hands. “Please. Come inside. How can I assist you?” I invited them in with a welcoming gesture and a warm smile. Yosefov, with his short sleeve shirt, and Shcori, with her hair pulled up tightly in a high ponytail, looked like two kids dressed up as policemen going to play outside after dinner.

  “Can I offer you something hot to drink?” I asked graciously. “I was just about to make myself some tea.”

  Lieutenant Shcori looked at Yosefov, who was clearly her superior officer. Without waiting for their reply, I moved toward the kitchen. They followed. In the kitchen, they sat beside the counter and watched me as I took out three matching mugs from the cupboard.

  “Would you like coffee or tea?”

  “Tea will do just fine, Ma’am, thank you,” Yosefov replied.

  I put an assortment of tea bags, sugar cubes, and the steaming mugs on the counter before I sat across from the officers. They had no idea how happy I was with this unexpected visit. It was an unusual but welcome relief from the flood of thoughts and sensations coursing through me. Of course, I would cooperate and help in any way I could, even just for the sake of calming my excitement, which would certainly be visible to Dan. Shcori pulled out a pen and notepad, and moved the tea mug aside. Yosefov continued to grasp his mug with both hands. It looked as if it was hard for him to let go of its warmth.

  “An hour ago we discovered a Porsche Cayenne.” He paused to clear his throat. “It was abandoned. Upon examining the inside, we found mud stains, riding boots and a bag containing riding equipment.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. “It’s our car!” I exclaimed with terror. “Where’s Dan? Where’s Robbie? What happened to them?”

  “It’s still under investigation. We don’t have all th
e information yet. We’re here to check if, perhaps, you’ve received any threats, or phone calls, in the last hour.”

  “Nothing! No calls. My phone’s here in my bag.”

  I leaped from my counter seat and ran over to the usual spot I placed my bag in. It wasn’t there. It had to be today, of all days! I got home so confused that I had forgotten where I had placed it. I looked around, casting my eye over the furniture. I was trying to focus, but I was so distracted by my fear, I kept seeing the image of the empty car in my mind.

  “I can’t find it! I can’t find it!” I tried to explain, but in fact, I was mumbling to myself, Focus, Gabi! Focus!

  It was right there, on the red sofa, under the shawl I threw off after coming inside. I yanked my cell phone out. I had no unanswered phone calls. Back in the kitchen, I grabbed the house phone and listened for the voice mail tone. No use. I had cancelled the voice mail service long ago.

  “I don’t have any missed calls… it’s a good sign, right?” I stared at the police officers with desperate eyes, looking for confirmation. Their eyes were blank, offering not a glimmer of hope. I speed dialed Robbie’s phone. The continuous ringing made me shiver. I stumbled toward the couch and sat down.

  “Can you recall anything unusual that may have happened recently, even something minute? Something out of the ordinary that you may have overlooked? Threats, odd letters… anything ring a bell?” Yosefov’s voice barely reached my consciousness.

  The whole day was out of the ordinary, but how could I tell him that? I felt as if God was angry with my promiscuous behavior and this moment of terror was my punishment. This was His way of helping me get back on the right path, bring back my humility and remind me what was truly important in my life. In my head and my heart, I was apologizing, promising I would never stray again, that I had learned my lesson. I’m a good student. Really.

  I did not answer Yosefov and continued trying the phone. This time I tried Dan’s number. All I got was his answering service.