"Yes, thank you. I’m ok." Caeli sat down on the couch, and the first officer moved so that he could stand facing her. He stopped rubbing his chin as a glimmer of recognition finally crossed his face.
"Hello, Mrs. Harding. I'm sorry to see you again under such circumstances. You remember my partner, Officer Caldwell. Are you sure you're all right?"
She nodded an affirmation.
"My officers have the two assailants outside. One of them is in handcuffs in the squad car. The other is dead. Mrs. Harding, can you tell me what happened?" Captain Erickson asked with a surprising gentleness that revealed his compassion for her ordeal. Yet, the captain maintained the seriousness of the incident and the need for her to provide an answer.
"I can tell you what I know," she responded. He nodded for her to do so.
"I returned home from my husband’s memorial service earlier and must have fallen asleep. I think I slept the entire day away."
"That's understandable. You looked exhausted this morning," Captain Erickson commented.
"This morning? Were you at the church?" Caeli was surprised that he would have attended the service, and she did not recall seeing him there.
"Yes. I wanted to pay my respects and check on you. The Doc said you were doing as well as you could be. To be completely honest, it gave me an excuse to talk to her, too. Dr. Yamanu is quite a fascinating woman." Captain Erickson smiled. Caeli noticed the way his eyes lit up when he mentioned Salma, and made a mental note to mention it to her friend the next time she saw her.
"But, let's not get sidetracked. Please, continue."
"A loud noise downstairs woke me. I heard someone in the house. When I heard them getting close to the stairs, I hid and called 911 from my cell phone."
"Do you know how they entered the premises?" The officer asked.
"No. I’m sure I locked the garage door when I got home. I thought all the other doors were locked before I left this morning, but I’m not entirely certain. With all that has happened recently, my mind has been a little fuzzy. I suppose I could have left the back door unlocked, but it’s just so unlike me."
Captain Erickson was rubbing his chin as he watched her carefully recite the details of the incident. He resolved the mystery of the entry point for her.
"My men found the back door hacked open. Looks like they chopped and pried the lock out of the door itself. We haven’t found the tool they used yet, but I’m sure it will turn up. My men are still searching the yard."
"That’s odd. You would think that I would hear a pounding on the back door if they had to work so hard to force it open. But, I was very tired. I think I fell asleep almost as soon as I sat down." Caeli brushed the thought aside.
"Captain, what happened to the guy who died?"
Captain Erickson furrowed his brow as he answered.
"The paramedics think that he must have had a heart attack. There were no obvious signs of injury on the body. I was hoping you might be able to shed a little more light on the matter. What else can you tell me?"
Caeli thought for a minute, trying to recall the details in proper sequence before replying.
"After I hid and called for help, I heard them come upstairs."
"So you were hiding upstairs then? Where exactly were you?" the officer interrupted her with his overly zealous query.
"Yes, I was upstairs. Didn’t you see me come down the stairs a moment ago?" Caeli asked in puzzlement at what seemed like such a silly question.
"If I told you where my hiding place was, then it wouldn’t be a good hiding place any longer, would it?"
"Yes, of course. Thank you, Mrs. Harding," Caldwell stumbled awkwardly over his words, belatedly realizing his mistake.
The captain shot a stern look at his young partner then politely turned his attention back to Caeli. He asked her to continue with her recollection.
"I didn’t hear much after they got up the stairs, just their footsteps as they walked around. They must have been looking in the other rooms first, and then I heard them in my room. One of them said that he saw me turn the lights on upstairs and knew I should still be there. He told the second guy to make sure he checked everywhere. The man seemed worried that they would not be paid if they went back empty-handed. The words he used made it sound like they were hired to abduct me and deliver me to someone else. I cannot imagine who that would be. Also, he sounded worried that whoever it was might be upset enough to hurt them or do something unpleasant if they failed. That was all I heard before the same one who spoke fell to the floor." Caeli decided not to mention the vague references to fog and the thickness in the air. She shook her head lightly to throw off the fatigue which was pressing in on her. Captain Erickson did not fail to notice the gesture.
"You’re doing great, Mrs. Harding. You kept your senses and made the right choice by hiding and calling for help. You would be surprised how many folks mistakenly think they are capable of handling these situations alone, and then panic when confronted with the magnitude of the crime as it unfolds around them. You’ve done very well." He tried to offer her a bit of encouragement.
"Believe me, with all the strange things that have happened, I would not even think about trusting myself solely to my own defense right now, unless it was a last resort."
The captain noticed the puzzled look on Caldwell's face when Caeli referenced the other matters. He made a subtle whirling motion with his hand to help trigger the young man's memory. It was enough. Captain Erickson saw the dawn of remembrance shine across his officer’s face as he recalled the tornado from two nights ago. This was the same woman they rescued from the woods and who had been on-site for the last two days helping search for her husband, whose disappearance happened under highly unusual circumstances.
"I am very sorry for you loss, Mrs. Harding, but I'm glad that your head wound is healing well."
"Thank you. How do you know the details of my injury?" Caeli asked surprised.
"I was the one who found you in the forest. I even rode with you in the ambulance and waited at the hospital until your doctor friend arrived. That's how I met Dr. Yamanu. I've been keeping tabs on you through her," the captain explained with genuine sympathy in his voice.
"Oh. I remember you from the search, of course. The rest of the ordeal is still a bit of a blur. I'm afraid you haven't really caught me at my best lately. I wanted to thank you for helping me, then and now," Caeli said.
"My pleasure. After a crack on the head like the one you sustained, I’m not at all surprised that you're confused. But, let’s get back to this mess, shall we? Is there anything else you can think of that might be helpful?" Captain Erickson asked in a kind voice. He certainly knew all the right words to say to put her at ease.
"I did hear one of them panting, like he was having difficulty breathing. I don’t know why. I couldn’t see him. I just heard the sound he was making. I heard the thump when he collapsed and hit the floor. The other guy heard it, too, and rushed to help him. After that, you guys showed up." Caeli completed her distilled recollection and realized that she was trembling slightly.
"Ok, Mrs. Harding. I think that’s enough for now. We’ll want you to come down to the station and make a formal statement tomorrow. Do you think you’ll be able to do that?" The captain asked. He noted her shaking hands even before she was aware of them, being accustomed to the reactions common in these types of cases. Her adrenaline was dispersing and the full effect of the episode was beginning to set in on the lady.
"Yes, I can do that."
The captain was pleased with the successful outcome. The assailants were apprehended, the victim was unharmed, and he managed to get her to provide the details necessary to make an arrest before her emotions got the better of her. This was the best-case scenario, completely the opposite of her husband's case. Captain Erickson knew the lady needed to rest now, but had one more matter weighing on his mind. The ordeal still felt unfinished, and the last thing this poor woman needed was any more trouble.
"Be
fore I go, there is one more little problem we have not resolved. I don’t want to cause you any further concern, but if these two guys really were hired to abduct you, then there is a chance that another attempt might be made. I would like to place you in protective custody until we can sort this out. If we can get this guy to roll over on his employer, then we could bring this to a neat and tidy close. So what do you say? Feel like spending a night or two in a comfortable hotel room as a guest of the city?" Captain Erickson hoped she would agree. His instincts, refined over the course of his twenty eight year career, were telling him there was more to this case than a simple trespassing or botched kidnapping, and he was genuinely concerned for the woman’s safety. Now that he had come to her aid twice, he felt a fatherly regard for her. He also reminded himself to look up her name in the database. He still had not determined why she seemed so familiar to him. He definitely knew the name Harding, but had been too busy to stop and figure out the connection yet.
"It is very kind of you to offer, but surely we’re both mistaken. I must have misunderstood what they were saying. Why would anyone want to kidnap me? I don’t have much money. I’m certainly not wealthy by any measuring stick, and the items in my home are not valuable beyond their original purchase price."
How could he convince her? Captain Erickson could tell that she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of staying in a hotel. She was already beginning to search for a valid reason to decline his offer.
"Mrs. Harding, I know it may seem like a bit of an overreaction, but I’ve got this feeling in my gut, and it says this isn’t over yet. There are any number of reasons why some psycho might fixate on you and plot to make you his own. I can’t say what the reason might be, not yet. But you have to admit, there is an unsettled air surrounding all of this. Why not err on the side of caution, at least for tonight? If not for yourself, will you consider doing it to put this old man’s worry at ease?"
She smiled in spite of the events around her. Caeli liked this man. He reminded her quite a lot of her grandmother, who worried a great deal and often tried to make Caeli believe she was doing her a favor by taking extra precautions.
"You are a wily man, Captain. My grandmother might once have tried that very same tactic to get me to agree, for my own good, to comply with a deed that I was not inclined to do willingly. I do not disagree with you. This whole mess seems odd, but I am comfortable in my home. With the recent passing of my husband, and now this madness, the last thing I want is to be cooped up in an unfamiliar place with strangers all around me. You said yourself that my actions tonight were sufficient to keep me safe. I would prefer to stay home. If this truly isn’t over and a clear threat arises, then I will take you up on your offer."
"I understand, but I do not like the idea of you staying out here alone." The captain sighed in acceptance of the decision he had hoped to avoid. The last time he offered protective custody to someone who declined it, two young boys died and the target was nearly killed.
Caeli could see the disappointment and concern on the captain's face.
"If it will make you feel better, I will ask Salma to come and stay with me tonight. I have no doubt that she will be along soon anyway. Salma worries, and when she hears about this, she is going to lecture me for an hour for refusing your offer. Then she will insist on staying." Caeli smiled slightly at the thought.
"That does appease me a little. Will you allow me to go a step further and keep an eye on you here? Can I place a patrol car out front to make sure nothing else happens tonight?"
"Yes. That would make me feel more secure. I would appreciate that."
The next hour or so was filled with people milling about, making notes, and helping patch the entryway where the back door was busted. With a makeshift lock and temporary barricade in place, the cleanup was complete and nearly everyone was gone. Captain Erickson wrote his cell phone number on the back of a business card and handed it to Caeli with instructions to call him immediately if she had any trouble at all or if she changed her mind regarding protective custody. Then he headed outside to join his remaining coworkers.
Other policemen, whom she had not met directly, drove away with one of the men who tried to snatch her out of her home. After an EMT performed a quick assessment and declared her physically unharmed, the ambulance bearing the recently deceased thug pulled out of her driveway. It was followed by the captain’s jeep. Only a single cruiser remained parked in her driveway twenty feet from the house.
After seeing the last of the men out the front door, Caeli returned to her place on the sofa to await Salma's arrival. She tried to recall all the details of the day’s events. Caeli no longer believed she was losing her mind, and she did not for a second believe that this break in was mere coincidence. There was a larger scheme at work, but she did not have enough information yet. She wished Vin were here to help her figure it out. Feeling an urge to get up and move around, she went into the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee. Caeli poured it into two tall mugs and took them to the officers in the car out front. The aroma reminded her of Vin. She did not like the taste of coffee herself, but Vin had enjoyed it. Everything seemed to remind her of him.
After another hour or so of fruitless contemplation and fiddling with meaningless chores downstairs, Caeli was no closer to the answers she sought. Salma called to say that she had an unavoidable conflict and had to work at the hospital all night, but would stop by first thing in the morning. There wasn't anything more for Caeli to do. She should sleep.
Caeli returned to her bedroom and changed into one of Vin’s shirts. Wearing them to sleep when work or some other situation prevented them from being together at night always made her feel closer to Vin. Then she grabbed a pillow and blanket off the bed, locked herself away in the safe room in her closet, and slept undisturbed for the remainder of the night.
CHAPTER 13
The young, blonde reporter on the local evening news announced the lead story; a home invasion. Her tone was meant to be sympathetic and attempted to deliver an air of professionalism. She tried to make it seem as if the incident was somehow important to her. The ruse was a poorly disguised attempt to accentuate her less than par acting talents and show off her surgically enhanced features. This lady was clearly hoping, like so many before her, to be discovered by some high and mighty Hollywood director and carried off to a life of luxury. She wanted to leave her journalism career as nothing more than a vague, fading memory.
The innate ability of the man watching the screen to notice such details often brought these random observations to his attention. Yet, such notions were of absolutely no interest to the middle aged, slightly balding man who paced in nervous anticipation. He glanced often at the flat screen television hanging high on the wall in the large and meticulously adorned living room.
The room's every detail had been carefully arranged to his specifications when he remodeled the house. This room was the exact center of the building. Each of the six arched entrances peaked at a forty-five degree angle, shaping the point of a triangle at the top. Four of the arches allowed entry to the room. The remaining two arches were just decorations against solid walls at the front and back of the room.
All of the wood for the arches was cut from special charred oaks that had stood unchallenged by man for the last century. Each of the trees had been felled by his own hands, in a manner of speaking, to produce the specific qualities he wanted in the beams. The beams were not stained. They had been roughly sanded before a single, triangular-shaped emblem was carved into the wood that formed each of the four points over the archways. Then the beams were covered liberally with a translucent sealant. The surrounding twelve foot high walls were painted a flat shade of forest green. The color nicely complemented the pale, gray fabric of the large, dual-sided sectional that occupied the center of the perfectly hexagonal room.
Kent stopped in mid-pace, turned halfway around, and planted his feet shoulder width apart. Fisted hands on his hips, he stood directly in front of the flic
kering glow of the television set in the otherwise unlit room.
"Come on! Stop showboating and get to the point," he growled at the newscaster.
Kent stood five feet five inches tall, but his broad shoulders were set and squared at the top of his spine. His middle-aged years did not appear to be taking much of a toll on physique. The confidence of his posture suggested he was not bothered by such concerns.
"…where our correspondent, Kari D’Awauy, is reporting live for this special bulletin. Kari?" The voice on the screen responded unwittingly to Kent’s demand.
"Thanks, Holly. We are on the street out front of the Harding home, which you can barely glimpse through the darkness in the distance behind me. This was the scene of an attempted abduction just hours ago. The recently widowed woman, who resides in this private home with its tree-shrouded grounds, lengthy driveway, and high-walled perimeter, had just turned in for the night, seemingly safe in the security of her home. Police report that she was awakened by at least two intruders who forced their way in through the back door. Luckily, Mrs. Harding was able to call 911 on her cell phone while she hid from her would-be captors. The police have the suspects in custody at this time, and they are currently interviewing Mrs. Harding to learn why someone might want to do this. We do not have much more at this time, but will continue to keep you posted as the investigation and this story unfold…"
Boom! A jolt of electricity surged through the television causing it to explode and shatter into countless pieces. A small puff of black smoke and the strong scent of burnt plastic were left hanging in the air. If anyone had been present to see what happened, it might have seemed like the lightning bolt originated from the man and flared across the short distance to slam into the television set on the wall. But there was no one else in the house at the moment. Kent’s servant, a loyal man found through an agency years ago, would not return from his assignment for at least another hour.
"Incompetent idiots! How hard is it to subdue one harmless, sleeping woman?" Kent ranted at no one in particular.
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