Chapter 4

The following character appears in this chapter:

Maier

Nicolae’s current last name. He has used many over his long life

It was more than twenty minutes later when Freeman’s car arrived and pulled into the same parking spot where he had parked previously. There was an argument in progress as Sara and her mother emerged from the vehicle.

“No, Mother,” Sara was saying. “I need to go home and change clothes. These are the same clothes that I was wearing when I was stabbed. I need to change out of them. I may never wear them again,” she finished as they turned toward the building.

“I still have some of your clothes at the house. You can wear them,” her mother told her.

“Those are my old clothes. They won’t fit me now. I’m larger and heavier than I was in high school,” Sara told her. Neither of them had moved toward the building.

“But they’re such nice clothes,” her mother insisted emotionally.

“Yes, they are, but they won’t fit me anymore,” Sara insisted. Freeman broke into the argument just then.

“I need Sara to come in and sign her statement and give us some more information. Then you can both leave,” he told the arguing pair.

“Alright, I need to use the restroom again anyway,” Sara told him, as all three moved toward the building. I immediately transferred into the ladies’ room near the homicide department to await her.

I was waiting in the large, handicapped stall when the door to the ladies’ room opened. It was the only one large enough to hold two people comfortably.

“I need to use the rest room also,” I heard Mrs. Hankel say.

“Don’t assault each other in there. I’d hate to have to arrest both of you,” I heard Freeman tell them with a laugh as the door closed.

Within seconds, Sara had entered the handicapped stall and closed and secured the door.

“Nick!” she whispered looking around. I touched her arm while still invisible making her jump.

“Quiet,” I whispered. “Go ahead and do your business, or at least make it look like you are. I need your address. Have your mother drop you off there, and I’ll meet you,” I told her in a whisper. She was sitting on the throne still dressed. Opening her purse, she removed the rent receipt for her apartment and held it out for me to take. Looking at the address, I realized that I knew a location near there to which I could transfer.

“I’ll meet you there. We’ll figure out what to do then,” I whispered to her before transferring out of police headquarters and appeared in the trees in Brittlebank Park where we had first appeared here. It was a relief not to need to use the Invisibility spell, as it uses a lot of Magic energy.

Following a short rest there among the trees, I transferred to the location that I knew near Sara’s apartment. It was two blocks from there, and I could appear there with no problems. Transferring, I appeared in the alley behind a store near the trash dumpsters which hid my appearance.

Since Sara and her mother would be some time arriving, I stopped in a small deli near her apartment to have some tea and a pastry to rebuild my energy. The marker on Mrs. Hankel’s car alerted me when it approached the area, and I left the deli and walked to the building where she had her apartment.

The building had a recently installed top notch security system to prevent intruders from entering the building. However, it was not Magic proof, and I simply transferred inside after checking to see if anyone was watching me. The sidewalk was deserted presently, and I was inside in plenty of time to await Sara.

Much to my disappointment, when Sara appeared at the entry door, her mother was still with her. I quickly cast one of my prepared glamours around me. It gave me the appearance of a debonair European gentleman. I waited at the rear of the entry area for them to come in and close the front door. Moving forward then like I was leaving, I approached them pretending to be shocked.

“Sara! Are you alright?” I asked in a shocked tone of voice. “I saw you on the news. You were stabbed!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, I’m fine now, Nick,” she replied, having caught on to what I was doing, while her mother looked at me suspiciously.

“Mother, this is my neighbor Nicolae,” she told her mother.

“Nicolae Maier, at your service, madam. I must tell you that you have a most charming and intelligent daughter. It was a shock to see her assaulted on the news. Are you sure that you are alright, Sara?” I finished.

“Yes, I was taken care of and healed last night,” she told me.

“Ah yes, modern medicine, but I am on my way out on business now, but later you must tell me what happened. You are quite a celebrity now,” I finished before turning and going out the front door. Only going far enough to locate a place to transfer from, I transferred back into the building before going up to Sara’s apartment and transferred inside, but remained invisible.

“That Mr. Maier is quite handsome and debonair. Isn’t he a bit old for you, Sara?” her mother asked cattily from the living room, as Sara changed clothes in her bedroom.

“Really, Mother! Aren’t you a little old to still be looking at all of the young men? I saw you looking at some of the men at police headquarters,” Sara told her.

“He’s only about ten or twelve years younger than I am,” her mother said defensively.

“Yes, and he’s only about ten years older than I am,” Sara answered in a snide voice.

“Come home with me for a while and rest up from that terrible experience. Do you know that the three men who were all going to stab you were killed by someone before they could finish what they intended to do or to get away?” her mother asked, renewing her attempt to get Sara to go home with her.

“Yes, I saw the videos on the news last night, Mother, and heard the detectives talking about it this morning. Fortunately, they can’t blame that on me,” she told her mother.

“Come home with me. Too many people will know where you live now. They could still be after you,” her mother requested hopefully.

“I’d like to, Mother, but I need to eat and rest more today, plus I need to go into work tomorrow. I still have a job and need to be sure that I keep it. Mr. Maier is the same. He is always working. Sometimes nights and sometimes days. I understand, though, that he makes very good money,” she finished.

“You’ll work yourself to death, Sara. You don’t know how to relax. You’re just like your father,” her mother said with a frown. “Until he ran off,” she added in a distasteful voice.

“Yes, Mother,” Sara said in a resigned voice, as she had heard this for most of her life. “I’ll come by next weekend and visit for a while,” she assured her mother, who soon departed, though not in a happy mood.

I materialized in Sara’s kitchen where I had been listening to them when I was sure that her mother had in fact left.

“You heard?” she asked in a tired voice on seeing me.

“Yes, she doesn’t give up easily, does she?” I asked.

“No, and that’s probably one of the reasons that my father left her. He did leave us very well off though,” she told me.

“You don’t know who he was?” I asked.

“No, the name he was using wasn’t his real name, and she has never been able to learn who he was. They were together for a couple of years before he left and just vanished,” she told me.

“Whoever he was, you get most of your strong Talent from him. Your mother carries the gene for the Talent, but she has no active Talent of her own,” I told a surprised Sara.

“You can tell that just by looking at her?” she asked.

“No, not just by looking at her. One’s Talent can send out a ping like sonar, and if the one pinged carries the gene for the Talent, the ping bounces off it. If they don’t, there is no return of the ping. So yes, anyone with a strong Talent can do that. You will be able to do that when you learn some Magic, and how to use your Talent more,” I told her.

“I think it’s improving already,” she said. “I get a feeling or a hunch when you are near me, even if I can’t see you,” she told me.

“That’s a very good sign. Your Talent is active and is learning to recognize others with the Talent,” I told her to a smile.

“Could we start the Magic lessons tonight?” she asked eagerly.

“You need to eat again and get some rest if you are going back to work tomorrow, young lady. We can start the Magic lessons tomorrow night. Tonight, I have something else to do, but my evenings should be free for the next couple of weeks after that,” I told her.

“Alright, I am a bit tired. I guess that getting stabbed takes a lot out of a person,” she said with a smile. Moving over next to her, I took her in my arms and gave her a long passionate kiss.

“That should hold you until tomorrow night,” I told her after we came up for air. Sara had pressed her body against mine and wrapped her arms around me while we kissed. We had both definitely enjoyed it.

“Yes, it should,” she said a bit flustered. “Go on now. I’m going to get something out of the refrigerator and heat it up before going to bed after eating it. Thank you for saving me,” she finished in a low breathy voice.

“You are more than welcome,” I told her with a grin before vanishing, as I transferred out of her apartment.

Three thirty the following morning, a couple of vans from the local Charleston radio and TV stations pulled up near a small brick warehouse on the Charleston water front. There were a pair of police cars parked near the warehouse with their red and blue lights flashing. The reporters had seen the fire department vehicle and an ambulance leave on their way in. The area was surrounded by much yellow crime scene tape. There were two uniformed officers standing at the entrance of the warehouse.

“What happened here?” the lead newshawk asked one of the officers after looking around at the exterior of the warehouse.

“It’s a crime scene,” was all the cop answered pointing to the yellow tape, but giving no details.

“But what happened? We all heard a lot of reports on the police bands starting over an hour and a half ago, but no one reported what actually happened,” the well-known local reporter said.

“We can’t say anything, but you don’t want to go in there,” both cops told them.

“Are you saying that WE can’t go in there?” the well-known reporter asked in an indignant voice.

“No, I’m saying You really don’t want to go in there, but I won’t stop you if you insist on going in,” the older cop told him. “We’re just supposed to keep the general public out of there,” he added.

“Come on,” the well-known reporter told the other reporter and their two cameramen, as they passed the cops and entered the dark warehouse.

Several minutes later, the four of them stumbled out of the building still vomiting. They stood just outside of the warehouse for several minutes trying to pull themselves together. The two cops had moved further away from the entrance to avoid the smell.

“My God!” the well-known reporter finally managed to say before turning to look at the two cops.

“You did that on purpose. You could have warned us,” he said in an accusing tone of voice, but it didn’t sound like his normal on-air voice.

“We told you that you didn’t want to go in there. That was considered warning enough,” the second, younger cop told him.

“There are people hanging from hooks in there. Some are missing hands or feet, and a couple have been partly skinned. Their male parts have been removed, and all of them seem to have been sliced open across their bellies and their intestines are hanging out,” the other reporter shouted at the cops in an outraged voice.

“It’s like a charnel house in there,” one of the cameramen said.

“And blood! There’s blood everywhere. On the walls and on the floor. It’s still dripping out of some of the bodies. You walk in it and even breathe it in as it’s in the very air in there. There’s that much of it,” the other cameraman said before throwing up again.

“The Chief and the Medical Examiner were both here already and threw up like you did, but inside. The crime scene people were here but couldn’t finish. The detectives will need to return also,” the older cop told them.

“And this place isn’t going to smell any better when the sun comes up, even though it’s fall,” the second cop told them.

“Who the hell would do something like that? He’d have to be some kind of barbarian or a sick sadistic bastard,” the well-known reporter demanded in a better voice.

“From what we heard some of the detectives say, those guys were the leaders of one of the worst gangs in the city. It’s possible that it was retribution from another gang. One of them managed to get out of the building alive, well barely. A passing patrol car found him just up the street bleeding out. He managed to tell them about the warehouse before he died from blood loss. Since then, it’s been a parade of cops and officials, none of whom stayed very long. But Jerry’s right. This place is going to stink to high heaven when the temperature goes up. Thankfully, we’ll be off duty before then,” the older cop told them.