“No, as far as I got was trying to figure what in the world happened to Ms. Fateman.”
“Ms. Fateman, do you know the license plate number on the van?” Zeke asked.
“K-L-E-A-N and the number one, Georgia plates, Clarke County,” Tempest supplied the information. “It is a white 2019 Mercedes Sprinter 2500. And for the permanent records, it’s Dr. Fateman.”
Zeke only chuffed at the moniker. Both of his brothers held doctorates and as far as he was concerned, they couldn’t hit the water in the pee bowl, so her fancy title didn’t mean squat to him. He focused instead on the matters at hand.
“Sheriff, can you get a BOLO out on the van and the Glitter Man? Dr. Fateman, can you describe the man who blinded you?” Zeke asked, thinking it was a dumb question after it fell out of his mouth.
“The light was so bright that all I saw were spots. I heard his voice, raspy, like he smokes a pack of Kool’s a day. He was,” she paused, leaning toward Zeke and running her hand across his mid-section, making him jump at the uninvited familiarity, “a bit shorter than you, thicker across the middle. And...he smelled like cardamom.”
“Cardamom?” the Sheriff asked. “What’s that?”
“A spice used in pastries and teas,” Tempest responded. “The amount of fragrance was not only on his clothing but also in his skin. I could smell it.”
“Hmpphh,” Zeke said, squeezing her hand to get her attention. “I need to head home, Sheriff, and spring our houseguest on my unsuspecting wife.”
“Tell Mrs. Neary I said thank you for the new coffee mug,” Robbie commented. “It doesn’t sit evenly on the desk and rocks back and forth a bit, but I like it.”
“Will do. Keep me updated on the state of the white van,” Zeke said, escorting Tempest out to his truck. “Sidewalk, one step down.”
Tempest stepped down, looking ahead and seeing nothing. Panic rose in her chest as he pressed the key fob that unlocked the vehicle. He opened the truck door, maneuvering her around the entry, and turning her butt towards the seat. She leaned back, connecting with the leather and swinging her legs into the cab. The cool metal of the seat belt buckle touched her hand, allowing Tempest to take hold and feel her way around the bucket seat of the truck to secure her belt. She appreciated Zeke not taking it for granted that she didn’t want to do it herself.
“The blindness could be temporary, or it could be permanent. I’ll get a doctor up to my place to look at your eyes and let us know,” Zeke said closing the door.
She sat holding the belt, not really scared, but a growing concern was building up inside of her on how she would manage to care for herself once she got home to Athens. Tempest toyed with the thought of this particular moment not being the time to cry or feel sorry for the situation she found herself in, but an opportunity to shift course and maybe do something new with her life.
“Dear Jesus,” she cried out, feeling every moment of the past three days and began to shake physically.
In her head, all the right things tumbled through her thoughts, but in real life, she lost it. Jacob was dead. Markham had been humiliated and his perfectly planned career was more than likely over. She was blind.
Tempest began to cry, praying the tears would wash away any residue in her eyes and give her back the vision she’d taken for granted. A piece of cloth was inserted into her hand. Zeke didn’t pet, pat, or pamper her as he started the vehicle, backed up, and put the truck in gear to start towards the mountain. Tempest cried all the way up the hill, around the curvy roadways, and when the asphalt turned to hard dirt. Zeke didn’t make any attempt to stop her tears or to offer the woman comfort.
“We’re here,” he said softly. “Dr. Fateman, this is going to be rough. Ain’t no easy way to handle this, but I’ll do what I can to find a workable solution. You’re safe here with us.”
“Thank you,” she said, sucking in her bottom lip. “If nothing else, I have that.”
Chapter Seven –Disordered
Fear.
Ezekiel Neary didn’t like the situation, and based on the current state of goose pimples on his arm and the hairs on end at the of back of his neck, he didn’t really care for his new companion either. She felt all kinds of wrong. A dangerous kind of wrong. The kind of wrong your Mama warned you about once you got big boy hairs in the dark places of your body. The sick feeling of knowing what kind of woman she was worried him more than taking her home unannounced to his wife, but if there was one woman in the world who would sympathize, it would be Aisha, now renamed as Tameka to fit her new role as Zeke’s wife.
Tameka SheNanay Neary had undergone a great trauma in her own life after being kidnapped for nearly a year and giving birth to a child born from her captivity. His wife also had the uncanny ability to see the aura of an individual and understand immediately the kind of person she was dealing with, and Zeke hoped the same was true in this case. Tempest Fateman wasn’t the type of snake you wanted to capture and bring home as the family pet. First chance she got, it would be her aim to strike fast and get gone. He needed to find some answers quickly and get the lady gone from his home.
Zeke turned off the engine and collected the keys. He maintained the locks on the front door of the home he shared with his wife and daughter Michelle, although they had a state-of-the-art security system. He didn’t call ahead to warn of the guest, but she waited for him on the front porch. Their daughter, Michelle, an adorable toddler with dark sandy hair and hazel eyes, grinned, showing off her tiny teeth, happy her Daddy was home.
As he made his way to the front porch, he handed the bag of food to his wife, who looked at the passenger seat of the vehicle.
“I’ll explain as soon as I know what the hell is going on,” Zeke said, going back to the car and opening the door. “My elbow is extended.”
Tempest unfastened the seat belt, clutching her purse as she felt the air for his arm. Locating the support, red nails latched onto his shirt. She slipped out of the car, feeling the eyes upon her and trying to mentally locate where his wife could be standing. Feebly she offered a smile.
Tameka instinctually and instantly disliked the woman. The outer brown aura that surrounded the house guest denoted a greedy, self-absorbed, closed-minded individual. The inner aura of a muddy forest green denoted jealousy, victimization, blaming others, insecurity, sensitivity to criticism, and a lack personal responsibility. It was the victim portion of the unsolicited reading that made Tameka reserve judgement.
“Welcome to our home,” Tameka said, “I’m Tameka Neary, Zeke’s wife, and this is our daughter Michelle.”
“Hi,” Michelle said to Tempest.
“Hello, little one. Thank you for your generosity. I’m Tempest Fateman. I find myself in a bit of an awkward situation,” she said as they reached the front porch.
Zeke, touching her hand, spoke softly, “Porch. A small step up.”
“Thanks,” she said to Zeke, looking towards the direction she’d heard the sound come from his wife’s voice. “I’m a long-time friend of Mr. Mann, but I arrived in town to find he and Sharon weren’t home. Also, I had the displeasure of coming into contact with a crazy man who blinded me, which I’m confident is temporary. I said a prayer for help and in walked your husband.”
Tameka softened her initial reaction to the woman, considering her own history with Zeke Neary, praying for help, and arriving on his doorstep in the throes of labor.
“Then you’re in the right place,” she said. “Come on inside and let’s eat that fish before dinner gets cold.”
Zeke shrugged his shoulders, not sure what to say, but his wife was right. No one wanted to eat cold catfish and soggy cornbread waffles. Inside the cabin, the bright yellow wall adorned with photos of the life he shared with his family and friends were on display in black frames surrounded by white matting. Tempest wasn’t able to see any of the hard work he and his wife had put into making the cabin larger and more solid. The guest rooms were complete, along with the addition of the larger bathroom an
d hot water tanks. The pot-bellied stove had been moved to his new workshop in the rear of the house, replaced by a modern marvel which operated on propane. It wasn’t much, but it was home.
“Dr. Fateman, I have a chair here. Do you need to use the ladies’ room?” Zeke asked, not certain of where she stood physically, after such a blow to her life.
“No, I’m fine, but at some point, I would like a hot shower,” she said, “but I don’t have a change of clothing. All my things were in my van.”
“So, you’re the cleaner?” Zeke asked, opening the bag of food. He placed an open container in front of her, using Tempest’s hand to touch the side of the container.
“Yes, code name Wrong Way,” she said. “You’re familiar with my employer?”
“Yep, met her once last year when she came to see her nephew, Mr. Mann,” Zeke said, watching her face for a reaction. Tameka was quiet as she took a seat at the table after placing Michelle in a booster seat.
“Didn’t know they were related,” Tempest replied softly, listening to her surroundings.
“Not by blood, but by marriage,” he provided, “Mr. Mann’s biological father owns The Company. His Uncle Oscar was married to Beauty.”
Tempest stared in the direction of his voice. She offered a hesitant smile. “I get it. You tell me something I didn’t know, and in return, I lower my guard and tell you something, is that it?”
“I can’t help you if I don’t know the truth,” Zeke said. “I’m not risking my life and the life of my family based on faulty intel. The Glitter Man didn’t randomly choose you. He didn’t drive up the mountain to Blairsville, Georgia to steal a white van full of cleaning supplies and products to break down human remains. Be honest, Wrong Way, and tell me what the hell you did to that glitter-flinging fool for him to personalize your punishment.”
The room was quiet as the tea kettle sang out that the water had reached optimal steam level. Tempest jumped at the sound, placing her perfectly polished nails on the crest of her jacket and trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. The food smelled wonderful, but she had no appetite. Instead she told Zeke Neary as much as she could say.
“I was in St. Louis and did a job for my employer,” she said softly. “Cleaned a scene to get the Glitter Man off our backs, and you know, have him taken care of in a non-deadly way. I made a mistake and forget an item. When I went back, the news had arrived, and the background shot showed me in my van.”
Tempest got quiet. She didn’t want to say that he followed her to Marion and killed Jacob leaving her to take the blame. It wouldn’t work in her favor to tell the nice people offering her shelter that the Glitter Man followed her to Nashville and tried to take out the Assistant District Attorney as well as her by leaving them in a compromising position. The humiliation of the ADA would ruin his career and make him the laughingstock of Nashville creating yet another man who would hate her guts. Each step Rami took in Tempest’s life was far more damaging than the previous, escalating at a rate which caused her some concern.
She wasn’t the only one concerned. Tameka Neary didn’t trust their new houseguest and more than anything, she didn’t like Dr. Fateman. In her life she’d been around women who were pretty and used it often as well as women who were beautiful and also smart, but relied more on the smarts. This woman was a bit of both and she made Mrs. Neary uncomfortable.
“Listen lady, we are happy to help you, but if you’re going to sit there and hold back information, my husband will call your employer and leave you at the Sheriff’s office until someone can come retrieve you,” Tameka said. “I have some sympathy for you because a single woman ain’t safe in this world and especially not on this mountain; especially not being blind. So if you truly want some help, you need to be something you’ve probably have never been in your life and that’s honest.”
“Mrs. Neary, you don’t know me, so please, stop judging my actions and my life,” Tempest said softly, breaking off a piece of the fish.
“What I’m basing my assessment on is your dark green aura, which is shining brightly right now, telling me that you’re a person who refuses to accept responsibility for your own actions. Your actions brought you to this point in your life and to my house. I’m not at your front door seeking help. If what you’ve done will bring the Glitter Man to my doorstep, I advise you to start talking.”
There wasn’t much for her to say to these people. She needed to get out of their house as soon as possible.
“Mr. Neary, my phone is a new one that doesn’t have any contact numbers in it. I don’t know the office number by heart. Even if I did, calling my employer in my current state is a no-no. I’m here hoping you can call your father, who will reach out to my employer, who in turn will provide instructions as to what happens next,” Tempest said.
“That makes no damned sense. Why can’t you just call her yourself?” Tameka asked.
“The phone that the Glitter Man left me with after he killed my lover Jacob in Marion; this phone is one he provided, which means he can track my calls,” she said. “Very few people know where Beauty is physically located. Me calling her would give him a pinpoint of the operations.”
“You said he killed your lover?” Tameka questioned.
“Yes,” she said, leaving what happened after Jacob out of the conversation. “Please call your father for me, Mr. Neary, so I can get out of your hair.”
“After dinner and you have a shower,” Zeke said, looking at the fish which had now grown cold. The congealed meal matched the feeling of the blood in his veins. There was no easy fix on this and he knew that. What he didn’t know was why the attack became so personal versus The Glitter Man killing Tempest. There was an end game to this, and he was getting angrier by the minute being pulled into play when he didn’t know the rules. “You know him...you know who he really is, so why didn’t he kill you?”
“Excuse me?” Tempest declared, picking up a soggy French fry.
“You heard me,” Zeke said, putting down his fork. “The Glitter Man killed your lover but let you live. He followed you here and blinded you with a bright light versus gouging out your eyes. This is personal. You know him. Before I call anyone, you need to tell me who he is and how you know him.”
“If I tell you his name, then you and your family are being placed in harm’s way,” Tempest protested.
Zeke wasn’t buying any of it, “Pardon me for stating the obvious, but you being here is placing me in harm’s way. Stop stalling and be honest. How do you know this man?”
Tempest stared down at the hands she physically couldn’t see simply out of habit before she prepared her mouth to tell a lie. Lies came easily to her, particularly when it came to men. All she had to do her entire life was poke out her breasts, bat an eyelash, and provide a smile showing a set of perfectly maintained teeth, and the gents would believe anything she said. Without her sight, the inability to see the facial expression of Zeke Neary left Tempest feeling exposed, vulnerable, and a bit on edge.
“Tell the truth, Tempest, so I can figure out how best to help you,” Zeke encouraged.
“His name is Rami Slanecki,” Tempest said with a huff of honest air.
“How do you know this man?”
“Rami wanted to date me when I was in graduate school. We both attended Emory and majored in biochemistry,” she said softly. “My final year, he and I worked on a graduate thesis study in biochemicals capable of dissolving human remains in record time. We were seeking an alternative to cremation and a less costly solution for Potter’s Field and families with little to no money.”
Tameka said nothing, giving the conversation time to breathe. Underlying the conversation were hints of a darker path which had brought her and The Glitter Man to this point. She sipped at the cup of hot tea and waited.
Tempest continued, “My senior year, I met a veterinary student named Ferdinand who was about to graduate. A nice man, gentle with a warm smile,” she said, breathing softly. “We fell in love. I cut the project sho
rt and did another side venture I was working on and graduated early to start a life with Ferdinand. I lost touch with Rami.”
“Evidently he kept an eye on you,” Zeke said, pulling out his phone and calling his father. Josiah, or as he was called by others; Joe, answered on the 3rd ring. “Hey Dad, I have a package here. It’s a Beauty. Hard to see what it is actually, after spending so much time in glittering bright lights. Don’t quite know what to do with it, though. Could use some help.”
“When did it arrive?” Joe Neary asked.
“About an hour ago in town. Sheriff was playing around with it, but I sent him on an errand to find the missing vehicle, but Pop, I tell you this Beauty is blinded by the light.”
Joe Neary inquired, “and the new Sheriff, Tomlin, how did he react?”
“Same way any man would in front of a beautiful woman way out of his class,” Zeke replied. “I don’t need the danger on my doorstep though, so if you could make a call and get back with me as soon as possible, we all would greatly appreciate it.”
“On it,” Joe said, disconnecting the call.
Tameka rose from the table to refill her teacup with more hot water and to let Michelle down from the table. She was such a self-sufficient kid, toddling off to her bedroom to play with her toys. Most days she played with Nate Jr, but while he was away, she was left to her own imagination and whatever her parents came up with to keep the child entertained. She’d barely left the room before the phone rang.
Zeke looked down at the phone to see his father’s face.
“Hello,” he said into the line.
“Sending an address in the morning,” Joe Neary said. “It’s a six-hour drive. Follow the coordinates and take her there. All she needs to know is this is where Beauty will meet her. It’s all you need to know as well.”
“Anything else?”
“Take the whole family on the ride,” Joe said. “Get a hotel on the way back, just to play it safe.”
Blind Fate Page 6