She straightened up and leaned forward slightly as if about to speak to the viewer personally. “We will be following this story closely over the next few days and keeping you updated on any new developments. Please check us out on our website for more information and for any immediate updates to this story,” Donna said with a serious professional tilt of her head.
“If you were at Kate’s Café tonight and would like us to hear your story, please call us or send us an e-mail. We’d love to get your take on this and hear your side of things. If there are any cell phone videos floating around out there, you can contact us or Officer Christopher Wales at the Sacramento Police Department.
Please send us your thoughts, comments, or concerns on our blog related to this story. Simply type in Kate’s Café to read the blog and join the forums.” She smiled invitingly.
“We want to know what you think. Do you think the police are neglecting their duty if they refuse to run chemical and environmental tests onsite? What are your theories as to how this could have happened? How could a man that eight different people vaguely recalled seeing have disappeared from the scene and from their memories? Have you ever met any staff members of Kate’s Café that made you feel uneasy or you felt threatened by? The information you have might help unscramble a little of this mystery.” Donna sat back and placed her hands on the top of her notes.
“Thank you for watching this special report. Now we return you to your regularly scheduled program.” She smiled into the camera, and the news was gone in a flash. The ending credits were rolling down the screen now to the sitcom. I bet some fans were irritated at that.
I turned off the TV and sat back against the back of the couch. This was crazy. I couldn’t believe how it had snowballed. I knew it had been bad, but I hadn’t known it would sound that bad. It was like I worked at a freaking live sitcom myself! Unreal.
Poor Frank! He was going to be so devastated to have his wife’s name dragged through the mud. I felt a swell of pity for the man. I’d have to go with David and help him clean up the place tomorrow. It was the best thing I could think to do for him under the circumstances. I couldn’t back out now.
The pity I was feeling mixed into unease. So, no one remembered Jared? David did. I did. I wondered if Lucy would. She had been so hot about him. But no one could recall anything except he was tall with black hair. Not exactly enough to place him in a line up. It was probably for the best no one could remember him. Better to have the reports and the investigation left…what had Mark called it… discombobulated?
And now, Wales probably had a picture of my car in the parking lot. Now, he’d know for sure I had been there. I hoped this wouldn’t give him an excuse to follow through with his threats. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, nothing he could prove. But I would probably find myself talking to him or one of his detectives sooner or later.
Great. Just what I needed. Another headache!
I rubbed my head with my hands, my head was spinning just a little and my legs felt squirmy.
I quickly drank the last of my lemonade, threw the fluffy blanket back over the arm of the couch, and picked up Dexter. He meowed a sleepy grumble and snuggled into the crook of my arm, his back legs dangling fearlessly over the side of my hand. I carried him with me to the kitchen where I dropped off my glass. I glanced at the answering machine and the little solid light that said I had messages still on it. I’d wait to think about those later when Elisabeth was home, and we’d listen to them together.
I headed up the stairs slowly, kitty in my right hand, left on the rail. My cell phone rang in my jammie pocket, and I jumped. Dexter was startled and jumped out of my arms, leaving a long scratch down my right forearm.
“Ouch!” I yelled, rubbing my arm. “Ah, Dexter. Silly cat.”
My phone kept ringing in my pocket. Annoyed, I hastened to grab it out of my pocket and I hit the Talk button putting the phone up to my ear before I’d even thought to check who it was first.
Wide Open
Chapter Thirteen
“H ello?” I asked cautiously.
“Oh my God! Melanie? We just saw the news. What the hell happened tonight?” Elisabeth asked me with panic in her voice.
“Thank God. It’s just you,” I said with relief.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elisabeth asked, taken aback.
“What? Oh, nothing. I’ll explain later,” I said, mentally slapping myself.
“Brad and I were downtown having a drink with some colleagues, and we saw the news report about Kate’s. Are you all right? Did you get hurt? God, Melanie. Was it Jill? Did she show up with her pack and try to get to you?” Elisabeth said with deep worry in her voice.
“No, Elisabeth. I’m fine. Jill wasn’t there. None of them were. I wasn’t even involved in the…the fights and stuff,” I said, pleased to give her this piece of good news.
“Oh, thank God.” Elisabeth let out a sigh. “Well, what really happened?” she asked. “The news wasn’t exactly clear.”
“I didn’t see a whole lot of it. I…got kind of sick and had gone to the bathroom shortly after it all started. When I came out, it was over.”
“Didn’t the police question you?” she asked, worried again.
“No, they didn’t check the employee bathroom. It’s easy to overlook with racks and shelves blocking it from view. No cops even saw me,” I said.
“But they will want to talk to you. They have a picture of your car,” she added.
“I know where you’re going with this, Liz. I thought of that too. But I didn’t do anything wrong. Chief Wales isn’t going to try and pin any of this on me. How could he?” I asked, my voice unsure.
“True. But he seems like a complete jerk to me. I don’t trust him,” Elisabeth added quietly.
“That’s two of us,” I said. “Where are you? It doesn’t sound like you’re still around people.”
“I’m on my way home. I told Brad I needed to go. He under- stands,” she said, pleasure in her voice.
“You really like him, don’t you?” I asked with interest. “Mel,” she said, dismissing me.
“Elisabeth?” I teased.
“Well of course I like him. He’s intelligent, witty, attractive, and keeps up in a conversation. I like that in a man,” she replied, her voice showing the smile on her face.
“I see. Glad you finally found someone worthy of you,” I said, smiling.
“Melanie, you are becoming quite adept at changing the subject. You almost had me off point,” Elisabeth said, a slight rebuke in her voice.
“No, I was just curious,” I said innocently.
Darn it. Nothing gets past her.
“Right. I’ll be home soon, and you can tell me everything you know about what happened tonight. I’m so glad you’re all right. I was really worried, Mel.” Elisabeth sounded a little scared.
“I’m fine. I swear. Not a scratch on me. Oh, well actually I have a big long bleeding scratch down my right arm, but Dexter just did that,” I said.
Elisabeth chuckled. “I’ll have to investigate the wound to know if you’re telling me the truth,” she said, teasing.
“Fine. I’ll be waiting. Arm and all,” I added.
“Speaking of wounds. You never did tell me how your cigarette scars disappeared off your forearm,” Elisabeth said cautiously.
“Oh…umm,” I stammered.
Oh crap.
I’d hoped she’d forgotten. Not Elisabeth. I should have known. She never forgets anything. The blessing of having an eidetic memory is she notices and recalls everything. But it sucks for me when I’d rather she wouldn’t notice. Especially something as obvious as five little cigarette scars missing from my right forearm. She had noticed their absence on Sunday along with several other small facial scars I’d gotten from having the crap beat out of me. Of course she hadn’t known God had touched me and restored my physical body as well as my broken spirit the night before in Italy. I still wasn’t sure if I should tell her or not.
“Yes?” Elisabeth prodded.
“Oh, that. I don’t think you’ll believe me,” I said.
“Have I ever doubted you? Teasing notwithstanding?” Elisabeth asked me gently.
“No. No, you never have,” I answered truthfully.
“Then don’t doubt me either, Mel. I’m a big girl. I can take the truth. If it is from you, I’ll believe it. See you in a few.” Elisabeth hung up the phone.
“See you soon,” I said to the now silent phone. I put it back in my pocket and headed back up the stairs. This was going to be hard to explain. And it was going to be an all-night conversation. I suddenly felt drained. Just the idea of having to find the right words to explain the last few days to her made me feel fatigued. She was going to have me committed. Hell, if it hadn’t happened to me, I might have not believed this sort of stuff happened anymore like back in the Bible days.
I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash off the fresh slice down my arm from Dexter’s claw. I needed to pin him down one of these days and trim them. He hated his claws trimmed. He always cried like I was murdering him slowly. The thought made me cringe as I recalled Jill’s threats to do just that.
When I ran into Jill on Sunday, she confessed their true plan hadn’t been to merely rape and beat me when I was fifteen but to torture me as well. Then, only after they had exhausted their use for me, would they kill me. I would end my existence as chopped up fish food. Apparently, they had refined their skills on the four victims that preceded me. They were each taking a turn to choose their victims, and I had been Jill’s top pick. Sarah never got her chance.
Bet she felt cheated.
The night Jill and the others got arrested for trying to kidnap and rape me, some incriminating evidence was found by the officers that suggested a scenario similar to the one she had so gruesomely outlined—bind, torture, and kill. However, since no stronger evidence surfaced, such as a dead body from a prior victim, nor a confession to support such theories, they could only imprison them for what they could prove in conjunction with my testimony.
I hadn’t understood why Jill hated me enough to do such a thing until she told me my father had raped and beat her and left her for dead a couple years before. Since she was too frightened to go after him directly, she settled for his daughter instead. She should have known that he wouldn’t have cared what was done to me. He never had.
I pushed the thought out of my head and let out a cleansing sigh. Then I ambled off to my bedroom and flopped down on my bed with my left arm over my eyes.
Jill and her gang were out to get me once again. My sadistic father was about to be released from prison, and he was going to be so livid when I didn’t show to pick him up tomorrow. Jared had hunted me down and made my night a lust-filled nightmare. And now, my best friend was asking questions about the secrets I was keeping. I felt like I was being split wide open, everything and everyone from my past was being flushed out of the shadows where they had been lurking. I had no doubt I was in the middle of a supernatural war.
Is this all over the book? Over my destiny?
“Oh, dear Lord,” I breathed out in a sigh. “I have to talk to Elisabeth about what I’m going through. Please, please let me know if it’s okay to tell her.” I listened in obedient silence.
You may.
I heard the words in my mind in a gentle voice, peaceful and clear.
“Thank you, Lord. Please help give me the words to explain all this to my friend. Please don’t let her commit me to a mental hospital when I’m done. You’re the one who put her in my life. You sent her to me. I don’t think you would have done that just to keep her out of the most important moments of my life. I give this conversation over to you Lord. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
Hey, who said you can’t talk to God like a friend and give him your burdens? Isn’t that what he’s good at?
Total Recall
Chapter Fourteen
I waited for Elisabeth to come home. It wasn’t a long wait, maybe twenty minutes. But it felt like forever. I was anxious, my hands were sweaty, and I couldn’t stop tapping my feet as I sat on the edge of my bed, my hands clasped onto the edge of the mattress at my sides. I slowly rocked back and forth, unable to remain still.
“I can do this. Just say it.” My pep talk wasn’t particularly inventive or reassuring. I’d been at it for a few minutes now without much success of calming myself.
“Elisabeth is your best friend. Your trustworthy, kind, patient friend. She will understand. She won’t look at me like I’m a lunatic.” I flinched at the word.
“Get a grip!” I hissed to myself.
“Get a grip of what?” Elisabeth asked as she walked into my room with a curious expression on her face.
I jumped and looked up. I hadn’t heard her get home. Not a good sign. Elisabeth stood at the door and glanced around the room to confirm I was alone. Dexter hadn’t bothered to follow me up to my room. I think he was mad at me.
Oh Lord, please let her believe me and not think I’m nuttier than I already sound.
Elisabeth’s curious expression softened as she took in my own doubtful one. I watched her eyes search my face, then trace over my body, reading my body language. She walked in and smiled down at me reassuringly stopping right in front of me, her skirt brushing my legs. Sometimes I thought the educational gurus should give her an honorary doctorate in the unspoken tongue of body language.
Her purse was still hanging from her shoulder. She hadn’t even taken it off or left her keys on her dresser where she normally deposited them when she got home. She had come straight to me, making me her priority. I felt a tightness in my chest unclench a little and my shoulders relax a bit.
I smiled back up at her and straightened up to see her better. She looked nice. Her dark brown hair was swept up in a loose French braid with little translucent butterfly clips here and there to make her look delicate and softened her face into a gentle beauty. Well, she was always beautiful to me, but tonight she had a wistful air about her. Her flowing white cotton skirt came down to her mid-calf, and she wore little golden ballet-style slip-on shoes. Her sleeveless blouse was a silky golden color too, and fi snuggly to her upper body and draped loosely around her neck.
The skirt and shirt were tied together nicely by a woven hemp belt that held little white and gold beads on the ends of the random frays. I glanced back over the blouse, and it drew my eyes to the slightly lower than usual neckline. The golden color made her clear olive skin seem to glow with a promise to be soft and smooth. A thin gold chain hung from her neck and the little gold butterfly that dangled from it rested on her chest as though it fluttered. Her green eyes sparkled from the moonlight streaming in through the window, making her look all the more radiant.
“Wow. You look great. You must really like Professor Bradley Carter to have changed for him out of your oh-so-serious business suit,” I said, most of the wariness absent from my voice as I teased her triumphantly.
“Oh. This old thing. Naw.” She swayed and dipped her head to one side, pretending to be bashful.
“Right. Like you don’t know you look amazing.” I smiled.
“I wanted to change things up a bit. Brad doesn’t get to see me outside of work enough. I thought I’d entice him a little to change that. Look like a lady for once,” she said. Elisabeth’s eyes twinkled and her true feelings shown on her face as her cheeks gave way to a rare blush. I didn’t see that happen often. She must like this man a lot.
She came over and sat down next to me. She set her purse and keys on the floor and kicked off her shoes so she could pull her legs up to sit Indian style. She leaned her back against the wall at the foot of my bed and looked at me expectantly. Apparently, the small talk was over.
I let out a big sigh and slid back onto the bed, my back resting against the wall next to her, the sides of our arms a few inches apart. I bit my lower lip as I glanced at her. Her eyes were patiently waiting. Her expression neutral. Right.
&n
bsp; “Okay, then. I guess the verbal foreplay is over?” I said more to myself than to her.
“Just start at the beginning, Melanie. Take your time.” She patted my clasped hands and squeezed them reassuringly.
“I’m still worried you’ll think I’m nuts,” I said, a shaky little laugh escaping my lips.
“No, I won’t. Just tell me.” She scooted around so she was facing me, and I did the same. Our knees bumped a little, so I scooted back a bit and settled my back against my pillows.
I let out a puff of air, and my lips felt almost quivery. I felt like I could cry I was so anxious. Elisabeth noticed and a little pucker creased her brow turning her expectant eyes into concerned ones.
Now or never. Lord, help me have the words.
I cleared my throat to get out the nervous little quiver I felt.
“Okay. It started Saturday night, I guess. I went to work, like always.” My voice was soft, almost timid. “Nothing fantastic happened there. Well, not on Saturday anyway.”
Oh, God. How was I going to explain to her about Jared showing up at work tonight and what happened after David and I ticked him off!
I’m just gonna have to relay the facts. That should be easy enough. Facts—all the strange, mystical, terrorizing, and wonderfully amazing supernatural facts.
Oh, God! How am I going to prove any of this to her? I needed proof!
The only proof I had was what Elisabeth herself had immediately perceived when she saw me the next morning—my suddenly fresh and clean work clothes, the scars missing from my forearm and face, and the profound transformation that had taken place within me. But there was still more proof she had yet to see. The book.
No. Do not show her or tell her of the book. Not yet. All in my time, a quiet voice said to me deep within my heart.
What then? What can I show to my friend?
An image popped in my head. I did have proof! Proof I could show her! There was the receipt for the book that Angelica Flores, the owner of the antique shop, had given me. It must still be in my slacks pocket where I had carelessly stuffed it the night she let me leave with one treasured item of my choosing. The book.
Broken Seed Page 17