Plus, David’s demeanor was angering her. Someone had died, for christsake. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Are you all right?” asked a male, but timid voice.
Lost in her own thoughts, Sam hadn’t noticed the approach of Curly Lens. He stood in front of her. Considering he stood a hair over five feet, Sam felt like an ogre in his presence. The only part of him that seemed to get bigger as he got closer was his glasses. They were even larger on his head, and thicker. The weight of them seemed too much for his wiry nose.
“I’m okay.” When she spoke, she looked down at him.
“Are you sure? You don’t look okay.”
“Thanks, that’s just what every girl likes to hear.”
He made a face, as if he’d just broken something valuable. “Oh, I meant—”
“I know what you meant, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No problem.” He scratched nervously at the back of his head. A nervous habit he’d probably had for years when in the company of a woman. “I’m Detective Giles.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sam—Samantha Corban.”
They shook hands.
“Likewise,” he said back. Thrusting his chin in the direction of Gray Top, he said, “That’s my partner, Detective Lieutenant John Stiltson.”
“Quite the laugh your partner has.”
“Nah, that’s his bullshit laugh.”
Sam stepped back. “I’m sorry?”
Giles grinned. “His bullshit laugh. His real laugh is much more subtle than that. He’s just doing that to try to put Mr. Barker at ease.”
Stiltson—Gray Top—was back on her nice list. She bent lower to talk to Giles more quietly. “Can you please tell me what’s happened?”
He sighed, removed his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I really can’t say much.”
“Anything would be more than I know now.”
He nodded and returned his glasses. On his nose were two indentions from the glasses. The frames slid right back into place. Sam figured his nose must get really sore.
“There was an accident involving George Snowberger.”
“Oh my god. George?” She thought of the minced pile that was being loaded onto the stretcher. “Was he…you know…”
“Killed?”
She nodded.
And so did Giles.
“Oh no…” Sam’s voice retracted to a whisper. She covered her mouth and breathed heavily into her palm.
“David’s not a suspect, not at the moment. From what we can gather, it appears to have been an accident.”
She dropped her hand. “Appears? Is that what you think? It was an accident?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know for certain, not just yet. There will be an ongoing investigation.”
“Holy shit.”
He smiled. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Giles, quit harassing the poor lady.” Stiltson joined them from the stockroom. Up close, Sam found him to be good looking for his age. Reading his eyes, she placed him around sixty-five, but he could pass for ten years younger, easily.
“Oh, I’m not harassing…” Giles’ face reddened from either embarrassment, anger, or both.
Sam guessed embarrassment. Giles didn’t seem the type to get angry at Stiltson.
Stiltson offered Sam his hand. They shook. It felt work-marred and old. Giles introduced them to each other. “But you can call us by our last names only. Hell, everyone else does.”
Smiling her first genuine smile of the day, Sam said, “I already was.”
He laughed. Giles was right, his real laugh was much more pleasant. There was charming quality to Stiltson behind all of the beaten ruggedness. His narrow, crystal blue eyes were calming. “I’m sorry we tied up Mr. Barker for so long. I had a lot of questions, but we’re all done now.”
“Do you think he did it?”
Stiltson was shocked by the bluntness of her question. “Wow, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“Don’t have time for it.”
He laughed again. “I like that. Since you’re being straight with me, I’ll do the same with you. No, I don’t think he did it, personally, but there are some matters that are still quite confusing.”
“I’ll bet.”
“And you’d win.” He smiled. “So I’m keeping the case open a little while longer until we work out all of the kinks, so to speak.” He placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “But we’re done here. We’ll get going and let you get back to your boyfriend.”
She blushed, though she didn’t know why.
“But before we go, I’ll leave you with my card.” He removed his wallet from the inner pocket of his long coat. The billfold was thick, with bands of paper protruding from the top. He was obviously a man who crammed all his receipts, phone numbers, and whatever else he jotted down on paper into his wallet. He opened it, and surprisingly produced his card in a matter of seconds. He handed it to her. “Just hold on to that, and if you have any other questions you don’t want to beat around the bush about, give me a call.”
She smiled. “You got it.”
“If you can’t reach me at that number, press zero, then ask for Giles.”
She looked at his partner. He courteously grinned.
“Will do.”
“Take care.”
He escorted Giles away, leaving Sam alone with all the commotion. As she turned to find David, she was nearly run over by the medics steering the stretcher out of the stockroom. She barely jumped back in time.
“Miss, you were already warned to stay on the other side,” one said in passing.
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…”
But they were already out of hearing range. His spitefulness left her wanting to cry. When she scanned the stockroom, realizing David had snuck away while she was occupied, she actually did.
When she got back to her car, she tried reaching him three times on his cell phone. His car was nowhere to be seen, and he wasn’t answering her calls.
Why did he just up and leave without saying bye?
It hurt knowing he’d purposely avoided her. She tossed her cell phone into the passenger seat, leaned forward, and propped her elbows on the steering wheel. She set her chin on her knuckles and stared through the foggy windshield.
She was alone again.
Chapter Nine
David rushed into his apartment and slammed the door behind him. He leaned his back against it, panting. Why such urgency, he wasn’t sure. He was just glad to be home, back with the board. Although he realized he’d ditched Sam at the store, it didn’t bother him.
The day hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. It had been much better than he could have ever asked for. Not that he was thankful George had been killed, no way. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone, dying like that. It was just that the day proved to him that his angel had been by his side the whole time. All she’d told him last night was true. Even when she confessed to being in love with him.
To say he was flattered was an understatement. He didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling. But it was all wonderful. He’d never felt so alive, so vibrant. He stood up, wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed with relief. He was home.
As he crossed his apartment, he whistled a happy tune. He tossed his coat on the chair in the corner. No one ever sat there, so David used it as a place for whatever various articles he happened to carry into the apartment and had no use for once inside. The coat crowned a pile of unopened junk mail and bills, laundry, and entombed at the very bottom was a bag of Twix bars he’d forgotten all about.
He sat on the couch and allowed himself to breathe. He was so winded. Had he been breathing regularly since he’d left the store? He had no idea, nor did he care. He sat there on the couch, calming himself. He rubbed his sweaty palms across his legs to dry them.
Then he leaned up and took th
e board from the coffee table. He set it on his lap. Positioned the indicator in the center. Placed his fingers on top of its smooth surface. He instantly felt the flowing, soothing current entering his fingertips and slowly filling him.
He smiled.
She’d been waiting for him.
He kicked off his shoes. Sweat dribbled down from his hair and into his eyes. He leaned his head to his shoulder, using it to dry his eyes. The pointer began moving before he had the chance to speak first.
She was anxious. He liked that.
M-Y-L-O-V-E.
He blushed. And he also didn’t know what to say other than, “Hi.”
M-I-S-S-U.
“Miss me? I missed you…too.” David didn’t like to lie, even for good reasons. So when he heard himself saying something like that aloud, he knew it must have been true. He really had missed her.
M-A-D
“You’re mad?” What had he done?
The indicator whisked to NO. Then to the letter U.
“No. I’m not mad at all. I’m glad to be here with you. Talking to you.” Then what she was really asking him hit like a slap. “Oh, you mean George?”
YES.
“That was you today?”
YES.
He knew it. Well, not really, but he’d suspected it had been her doing. She’d intervened at just the right moment, saving him and handling George herself. Kind of honorable, really, but also very frightening.
“Why did you do it?”
U.
“I understand that much, but why?”
J-U-S-T-U.
“You know, I asked for a leave of absence today… And considering what happened, they agreed to let me go. And with full pay. Isn’t that something? Now, I don’t know, something in my brain is eating at me, telling me it’s time to change some things. You know?”
YES.
Of course she did. He smiled.
“I have another question for you.”
YES.
“I want to know what your name is. I want to call you something other than angel.”
N-O-N-A-M-E.
“No name? How is that possible? I mean, aren’t you…one of God’s…minions or something?”
YES.
“He didn’t give you a name?”
NO.
“Want me to call you something? Pick one for you?”
YES.
“All right, let’s try a couple. How about Michelle?”
NO.
“Didn’t think so. Uh—how about Natalie?” David had always liked the actress Natalie Portman, and thought the angel wouldn’t mind being called that. He was wrong. She told him no just as quickly as she had the first time. Now he began running names over in his head, putting letters together, thinking all the way back to elementary school, to girls he knew then, or had briefly met in his lifetime. Nothing stuck.
Then it seemed as if the smoke cleared, all the ineffectual names vanished, and one stood tall—lettered in solid stone.
Natasha.
“How about Natasha?”
She hesitated only for a moment, then soared to YES.
“Like that?”
YES again.
He smiled. Somehow, he’d known she would.
The pointer hadn’t stopped moving. He quickly realized she was still telling him something.
W-E-R-1.
Nodding, he said, “I think so too.”
U-M-A-K-E-M-E-S-T-R-O-N-G.
“You make me strong, as well, except for right now, I’m so tired.” Each time he’d used the board, he felt drained afterward, almost lifeless. He felt like that now.
The sudden clamor of his phone resounded in the apartment. He didn’t care. He wasn’t answering calls right now, just decided to leave the handset nestled in the cradle. Abruptly too tired to move, he leaned back on the couch and rested his head on the top cushions. The room looked weird. It seemed to be twisting, morphing. It was getting colder and colder. He could see his breath in the air in little clouds of smoke.
What was happening?
And the phone began to ring again.
Annoyed that David wasn’t answering his phone, Amber hung up. She toyed with the idea of heading over there. Hell, she’d been calling long enough, and he was ignoring her. On his home phone and cell. She wanted to check on him after what Mom had told her had happened.
She glanced at the clock, nearing midnight, and no one had a clue as to where he’d gotten to. Well, she could answer that. He was at home, avoiding everyone. Which was fine for him to do—to everyone else. But not to her, not Amber.
He’s up to something.
But what, she wondered.
At one time, Amber could read David better than anyone, but she’d lost that gift recently. She never had expected him to try committing suicide. Just like everyone else, she never saw it coming. Oh sure, David was a bit eccentric, but not a weirdo. Quiet without being creepy. There were no red flags that brought attention to his behavior. He was just David. That bothered her. That he’d been depressed enough to try, and she hadn’t suspected it in the slightest.
Why won’t he just answer the damn phone?
Amber walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of Bud Light. The fridge was nearly empty except for some sandwich meat, a head of lettuce, and of course beer. The lettuce was odd. She didn’t remember buying it and didn’t know why she would have. But one thing was obvious. She really needed to do some more shopping.
She glanced at the clock again. Midnight. The witching hour. Right time of night to drink a couple beers. Not many, but enough to help her stop worrying about David so damn much.
Amber sat at the kitchen table and twisted the cap off the bottle. Foam spilled over the top. She quickly dabbed it with a napkin. Raising the bottle to her lips, she made a silent toast to herself and guzzled down three colossal gulps before setting the bottle down.
Her mind continued to play movies of what David might be doing. He could have fallen and hurt himself and not be able to answer the phone. She pictured him on the floor, reaching for it, screaming at it.
No way. He’s not sixty.
Might be with a girl.
She took another sip of beer, mulling the possibility. Made sense. He just might be in the company of a young lady. What if it’s Sam? She doubted it. Last she’d heard about that, Sam couldn’t reach him either. So surely it wasn’t Sam.
Well, if not Sam, then who?
Amber finished her beer, walked to the trashcan, and dropped it in. Then she stopped by the fridge and grabbed another before returning to her seat at the table. She leaned back, propping her feet up. She wore only a long T-shirt that hugged her upper thighs. The table’s surface was cool on her legs. She wiggled her toes.
As she sipped on her second beer, she decided that if trying to reach David tomorrow brought the same results, she would just saunter on by and pay him a visit. She didn’t like being ignored, and if he did so tomorrow, then she’d just have to remind him that she was the type of person you didn’t ignore.
Chapter Ten
She used his energy, not out of desire, but of necessity. It saddened her that she needed to use him, because it hurt him to do so, and in return, it hurt her just as deeply. He had offered himself to her without knowing her, but eventually he understood. Though he never spoke of it, he thought it. He nourished her. Allowing her to feed off him like a sick cub. She could taste his love for her in his soul.
David was in a place unlike the Interface, a bright plain room of white. Broken white pillars overturned and lying on their sides, white benches cracked and aged. Not quite a room. An area? Perhaps. A spot. Somewhere. And he felt right at home. Up above, where the darkness met the ashen furnishings, a light appeared. Faint, dismal at first, it grew and became brighter, transforming into an oval shape. It stretched wider, like an opening vagina. He gasped at the two ghostly white hands reaching out of it. The
y gripped the sides of the vortex and heaved. Struggled to be free of the entrapment. Then a shoulder emerged. A head covered with soaked black hair followed.
His fear, heavy at first, quickly subsided. No longer frightened by what he was witnessing, he was enthralled.
The lengthy, black tresses draped over the edges of the portal. Thick, syrup-like plasma dripped onto David’s face. A few splotches landed in his opened mouth, but he was too rapt to care.
She was being reborn. Crossing over from her world to his. He would now be able to see her with his own two eyes, not just as a hazy vision, but true to life. She needed his energy still, and would for a while longer. It wasn’t quite their time for engagement. But it would be soon. Their path had been laid out ahead of them. They could see the end, but there were still many obstacles along the way.
She twisted her hands around, flexed her fingers. With her palms down, she pushed the outer layer of the doorway. Her chest popped through. Covered in a white cloth, sodden with slime, her broad, elliptical breasts showed through the transparent fabric. Nipples hard, firm and erect.
Pushing and pushing, she freed herself from the waist up. She shimmied her hips this way and that until her buttocks were released. Then her upper thighs, leaving her only knee deep in the vortex.
He reached out, taking her by the hands. They were sticky, gooey like sap. He didn’t seem to care. She could feel his tenderness inside her. Gritting his teeth, he pulled with all his might, finally dislodging her entirely. He fell back, landing on the matted flooring as white as cream. She landed on top of him. He held her there. Comforting her. Supplying her with more nourishment. She took her first real breath. It hurt. Her lungs weren’t fully developed yet. She needed more time. But she had to see him with her own eyes, if even for a moment.
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