Omar was a little surprised she recognized him immediately in his disguise. To make up for scaring her he bounced the child, as he’d seen other fathers do. It seemed to calm her down. She was smiling again and patting his cheek with one tiny hand.
Now he just had to get across the ballroom to the terrace without attracting anyone’s attention. He decided it would be easy. The guests were all moving around.
“We will go outside and look at the stars,” Omar said, holding on to the little girl and weaving through the crowd.
The band leader was talking again; something about Heather and Mike cutting the cake. Great, Omar thought, as everyone went to crowd around the table where the enormous tiered cake was located.
“You remember Samson, don’t you?” Omar said as he moved onto the terrace balcony. He didn’t use Shelly’s name because he really didn’t know which one of his daughters he was holding.
He glanced back before going outside on the terrace, looking at Chloe and Louise. They seemed to be having trouble getting the other two girls. He’d have to go back and get them himself, he thought angrily. Idiot women couldn’t catch a couple of four-year-olds.
“Yes, I remember Samson,” Shelly said.
“We’re going to play a game,” Omar said, as he leaned over the balcony and saw Samson below.
Shelly was nodding happily. She liked games. “Yes. Let’s play.”
“I’m going to drop you right into Samson’s arms.”
Shelly looked down, saw Samson, and shook her head. “No! It’s too far down.”
“One, two, three,” Omar counted and dropped Shelly into Samson’s burly arms. Then he hurried back into the ballroom.
Back inside, Omar saw that the two girls were moving away from Chloe and Louise as fast as they could, ducking right under tables to get as far away from them as possible. They were giggling. The two women were not. They followed the children with difficulty. The little girls were fast. Omar frowned and shook his head.
These women were totally inept. On top of that, since the girls obviously didn’t like them, he’d have to perform the distasteful babysitting duties for a while.
Maybe he could transfer the children to them later, if he told the girls that the French women were his friends. Then they might allow Chloe and Louise to watch over them until they all returned to France.
He went over to his daughters and stood right in front of them, bending down to their level as they came out from under a table. “I’m playing a game,” Omar said. It had worked on the first girl, evidently they liked games.
When the two little girls looked up at him, Omar said, “Surprise! Do you like my costume?”
“No!” Petal said. “Your face looks nasty, Daddy.”
Ivory nodded in agreement. “I don’t like it.”
Trust little kids to tell the truth, Omar thought. But he was again amazed. Either his disguise was totally inadequate, or his daughters were extremely clever at seeing through it. But then, they were his daughters. They had inherited his smarts.
“It’s been a long time,” Omar said. “Let me pick you both up. I’ll bounce you.”
The girls nodded eagerly and held their little arms up. Their daddy had never picked them up and bounced. Not ever.
Omar was strong and easily got both girls in his arms, one on each side, and started moving toward the terrace balcony. Their heads were below his shoulders and he didn’t think anyone would notice him carrying them outside.
Someone did notice. Professor Vincent Middleton had met the children and thought they were extraordinary. Cute and bright. He’d laughed when he saw the three tasting Champagne and then spiting on the floor. And he remembered them on the red carpet, throwing petals to the guests like they were bestowing wonderful and valuable gifts. It was hard to believe Omar was the father. The three girls looked just like Michelle.
Then he’d been dancing with a beautiful woman and lost sight of the tykes. When he sat down again he looked around and saw a very tall bald man moving quickly toward the terrace
He looked closer at the man, his height, and the way he moved. Vincent thought, No, he wouldn’t have the audacity to come to Hawaii. Not to a big event like this.
Omar had fled the authorities over four years ago so he wouldn’t have to go to prison for distributing illegal, dangerous substances in his witches’ potions. Not even to mention what he’d done to Michelle. Abducting her to Mexico. Vincent had been there and helped rescue Michelle from that hospital in Guadalajara, where she’d had surgery without her consent.
Vincent was riveted because of the way the man moved, like he was gliding across the floor. He sure didn’t walk like a fat man. They tended to waddle. This guy was dodging through the crowd like a graceful dancer.
Vincent was coming to the disturbing realization that the man really could be Omar in disguise.
Vincent was a little winded from dancing, but he got up and hurried after the man who might be Omar. The guy could have shaved his head, he thought.
When the man moved outside onto the balcony the breeze caught a bit of pink gauzy material to be blown to the side.
Now Vincent was sure. Omar had the girls!
Vincent followed Omar as fast as he could, but when he got through the crowded ballroom to the balcony, the man was standing there alone, leaning on the railing. No one else was present. The man was looking east, down the beach.
Could he have been mistaken, Vincent wondered? Were his old eyes deceiving him? He was pretty sure he’d seen the pink material that the girls were wearing.
Vincent turned around and stepped back quickly, afraid Omar would recognize him. They’d had a long history. Vincent had followed Omar’s deadly career as a sorcerer for years, trying to debunk his so called psychic events as magic tricks. He’d found out it was no joke. This man, Omar, really did have supernatural powers. He was scary, deadly, and might now be in possession of three innocent little children.
He had to act fast.
Vincent took out his cell phone and called Michelle. He believed Omar had transferred the girls to someone on the beach below him. How he did it so quickly, without anyone seeing him, was a mystery.
“Hi Vincent,” Michelle said, a smile in her voice because she knew he was at the party, somewhere in the crowd. “Where are you?”
“Near the balcony. I want you to look around for Leilanie’s three girls. If you see them, call me back. I’m calling the police.”
“What! Why?”
“I think Omar’s here. I think he took the children.”
“Oh my God!” Michelle said. “I’ll start searching right now. Where is he? Omar?”
“Outside on the terrace. He’s bald and padded, so he looks fat. If you see him, look away fast and pretend you don’t recognize him. Hurry now! See if you can find any of the little girls.”
Vincent didn’t want to cry wolf if he was wrong, so he hesitated in dialing the police, waiting for Michelle to call him back. He didn’t want police stomping in on the wedding party, possibly ruining it and causing a lot of distress if he was mistaken.
Michelle shoved her chair back and stood up fast.
“What’s wrong?” Rod asked.
She was scanning the crowd. “Omar might be here. Vincent thinks he took the children. He asked me to look for them and call him back.”
“You go that way,” Rod pointed to the right. “I’ll search in the other direction.”
Michelle nodded and started around the periphery of the ballroom. Rod went around the other way; both searching the milling crowd. Most of the guests were sitting at the tables, enjoying the wedding cake.
In a little while they met, both having gone around the whole ballroom.
Michelle had spotted a man on the terrace when she went past. A tall bald man who looked hefty was leaning on the balcony railing, staring down at the beach. She couldn’t tell if it was Omar, but he was the right height.
Rod shook his head at Michelle. “I didn’t see th
e kids.”
“Me neither,” Michelle said.
Rod had noticed Leilanie as he searched for the girls. She looked frantic, also looking around for the children. He didn’t want to alarm her and just smiled as he went past.
Michelle started hurrying for the terrace balcony. If it was really Omar she would surely recognize him. She’d seen him naked. Well, almost naked. It was long ago when she’d tried to have an affair with him. She failed in the attempt, because as they undressed he suddenly frightened her. Something about his eyes, which looked predatory and startling. It seemed like snakes and creepy bugs were squirming in the reflections from his eyes. She just couldn’t go through with it and fled his penthouse condo.
That was long ago, when she’d been scared of men and couldn’t abide a man touching her after she had been raped by Omar’s henchman, Samson. She experienced panic attacks if a man even looked at her. It was ruining her life.
At the time she thought some man might cure her of her fear and panic attacks if she had a bout of enjoyable sex. She’d picked Omar because he was handsome and older, presumably experienced, and seemed to like her a lot. She’d made the worst possible choice.
Now she was certain she would recognize him even if he was disguised. She just had to get a glimpse of his face—his eyes.
Rod caught up to Michelle and grabbed her arm. “You can’t go out there. He’s too dangerous.”
Michelle continued on toward the balcony. “I have to see if it’s really Omar. If he took the girls…” She shook her head, frightened for them. The poor little tots must be terrified. This could cause irreparable harm.
When she got to the opening of the terrace, Rod grabbed her arm again to stop her. Vincent moved to stand in front of her, preventing her from moving.
“Someone has to go look,” Michelle said impatiently. “Dithering around isn’t doing any good. We have to act fast or he’ll get away.”
Rod shook his head, “Not you!”
Michelle said, “Did you call the police, Vincent?”
“Not yet,” Vincent said. “I wanted to make sure, first. I’ll go check him out.”
He went around them and sauntered out onto the terrace, casually taking a cigar from his vest pocket. It was dark and shadowy on the balcony. It had rained soon after the wedding, and the terrace was unprotected, so everyone else was inside. The cement was wet underfoot.
From the ballroom the music was muted, and the waves breaking on shore could be heard. Drifting over to the mystery man, Vincent lit his cigar and leaned against the balcony beside the guy. “Nice night,” he offered, puffing and blowing smoke up into the air.
“Yes,” the man said. He didn’t turn his head to look at Vincent, staring straight ahead.
Come on, dammit, look at me, Vincent thought, staring at his profile. “Did you see the fireworks after the wedding vows? Wasn’t it splendid?”
“Yes,” the man said without inflection, sounding bored, and still not turning his face toward Vincent.
“Cigars from Havana,” Vincent said puffing grandly. “Would you like one?”
There was no reply, but from side-view he saw a glowing yellow flash from the one eye that was visible.
That was enough for Vincent. “Enjoy the night air,” he said, now desperate to get away. He threw the cigar down and stomped on it.
Vincent was sure Omar knew who he was, even if he didn’t look at him. He shuddered; that yellow flash had creeped him out.
Vincent went back into the ballroom with chills going down his spine. He went over to Michelle and Rod. He nodded at them, “It’s Omar.”
“Time to all the police, Vincent,” Michelle said. “I have to tell Heather they’re coming. It might ruin her beautiful wedding party.”
“I’ll go tell Leilanie,” Rod said.
Michelle hurried to the table where Heather was sitting with Mike. They were eating wedding cake off each other’s forks, getting their faces smeared with vanilla icing and laughing. All the people at the table were in a rollicking mood, some taking pictures with their cell phones. Heather and Mike were really hamming it up.
Michelle whispered in Heather’s ear, “Omar’s here. He took the children. Vincent confirmed it’s definitely Omar.”
Heather frowned and started wiping off her mouth. “Oh, no!”
Michelle continued, “We can’t waste any time. We think he transferred the kids to someone, or maybe several people, on the beach. So Vincent called the police.”
Mike had heard them whispering and said, “Samson’s strong enough to carry all three of the girls away somewhere. Rod and I got a sampling of how strong he is a few nights ago.”
Heather stood up. “We’re all here right now. We can start a search party ourselves.”
Vincent came over to the table. “I was watching the balcony because the police said to keep him in sight to make sure he didn’t leave. Omar just went down the terrace steps and started walking east on the beach.”
Heather went up on the stage where the band was located and asked the band leader for the microphone. She blew on it. The mike let out a shrill squeal.
“All my wonderful guests. Please listen carefully. A known felon is here in Hawaii and has abducted our three little flower girls. Their names are Shelly, Ivory, and Petal. This man has been wanted by the police since he fled Hawaii several years ago. He has a criminal record. If you saw anyone suspicious please let us know.”
Heather was thinking fast. She wasn’t going to say he was the father of the girls. It would take away from the urgency.
Someone shouted from the crowd, “What’s he look like? We need to find those girls!”
Heather replied, “He was recently seen on the terrace balcony, right outside the ballroom. He’s tall, about six feet six inches. He’s disguised with a shaved bald head and he has a beard.”
Leilanie was trying not to cry, but tears spilled anyway. She went over to Michelle and said, “If you catch Omar or Samson with the girls, tell them to play the Suck-Suck-Suck game.”
She briefly described to Michelle how it caused a state of unconsciousness when the girls pointed at a targeted person.
Wow, that was convenient, Michelle thought. My girls really do have psychic powers.
As she and Leilanie were talking, several of the men started storming toward the terrace.
Heather, on stage with the microphone continued, “The police are coming to help us find the girls. The kidnapper was seen leaving the hotel terrace, going down to the beach. He was moving east.”
It was surprising how fast the ballroom was emptying. Both men and women were heading for the outside balcony. Heather didn’t have to ask for a search party. At least a hundred people were bunched up at the entrance to the terrace, ready to help find the little girls.
The exception no one noticed was two French women who were hurrying out of the main entrance of the ballroom. Chloe and Louise.
Michelle and Rod had managed to get ahead of the crowd leaving by way of the terrace. They hurried down the stairs, across the grassy area where the wedding had taken place, and then onto the sand.
Michelle kicked off her high heels, which would make running impossible in the soft sand. She and Rod hurried to the harder sand near the water’s edge, and started running hand in hand. There they could really move fast.
Since night had fallen it was dark, but the hotels along the water spilled light out on the beach, and there was a three quarter moon which lit up the waves on the ocean. Far away Michelle could see a man running. Maybe just a jogger, she thought, but she pointed him out to Rod.
Some of the younger guys from the wedding reception eventually ran past them. Rod stopped abruptly. They were both panting. “Hell. You shouldn’t be running, Michelle. You’re pregnant!”
Michelle smiled at Rod, “Exercise is good for me.”
“Yeah, in moderation.”
“Those girls are my family,” Michelle said, and took off running again. She felt tears in her
eyes. Maybe they did have a horrible father, but they were sweet and fun and innocent; her own daughters.
Omar would spoil all that was wonderful about the little girls. She knew it deep in her heart. He couldn’t be allowed to have them. They had to be found right away, before he would have time to hide them, and corrupt them at his leisure. They were young, in that malleable, moldable way little tots were; believing everything they were told by an authority figure. Omar probably had elaborate plans to spirit them out of the country. Maybe back to France, where they would be almost impossible to find.
There was a sudden loud whop-whop-whopping sound in the distance, and then bright lights from above were roving over Waikiki beach.
Evidently Vincent had contacted the Honolulu police about the abduction of the girls. They were taking it seriously, Michelle thought. She raised her hand to squint up at the helicopter. It looked like a big hunched bug in the sky, showering down its loud engine noise and brilliant light.
She had a déjà vu moment, remembering how a helicopter had come to that tiny beach on the island of Kauai to rescue her, Rod, Heather, and Vincent. That was a few years ago when Omar had dumped her and Vincent in the ocean a few miles from the island. They had to swim to shore and face Omar and several of his witches.
Like then, the rotors of the helicopter whipped up a lot of sand. Michelle could feel it stinging like painful insects, biting on all parts of her exposed skin.
Still, the chase went on. Almost a hundred people running east on the Waikiki beach down towards the Ala Wai Yacht Harbor.
As she was hurrying along with Rod, Michelle felt a distinct heat on her skin that was becoming painful. It was where the diamond she called Abigail rested under her maid of honor dress.
Omar had given the diamond to her during a necromancy ritual. Later, Michelle had a dream about a young woman in Salem, Massachusetts, named Abigail, who looked very much like her. Abagail had been hanged for witchcraft.
Michelle truly believed Abigail was a remote relative from somewhere in her family tree. She thought the diamond was animated by Abigail’s distantly related spirit to her. It was ironic that Omar gave the diamond to her and told her that the spirit had picked her to take care of it. Now it might help her save the three little girls.
Magical Legacy Page 14
