“You’re not just another pretty face,” Heather said.
“Cutting the glass mirror was a pretty good test. Next time, try it on a harder surface, like metal.”
“I think Michelle’s going to get rid of it. Give it back to Omar.”
“As a scientist, the rest of what you’ve told me seems other-worldly, almost like fiction. The thing that concerns me most, though, is that your best friend, Michelle, is a danger to you.”
Heather shook her head in denial, “No.”
“You’re too smart not to know it. Omar already tried to harm or kill you, with a lightning bolt. Probably to hurt Michelle and isolate her so he can have her.”
You don’t know the half of it, Heather thought. She hadn’t told him about the strange overdose of sleeping pills she couldn’t remember taking. Or about the modeling shoot at Hanauma Bay when she saw Omar below on the beach, became strangely dizzy, fell on the lava rocks and received a serious concussion. Or about the witch who tried to snuff her with a pillow when she was in the hospital. She decided she didn’t want Mike to know about all that yet.
Heather wouldn’t stop seeing Michelle, but knew she was in danger. Even more danger than Michelle, because Omar wanted Michelle alive to produce a psychic child. Mike was right. Omar probably wanted her dead, Heather thought, because he knew having good friends made Michelle stronger.
“That guy Omar sounds psychotic,” Mike said, “or like a dangerous sociopath, willing to do anything to weaken Michelle, to the extent that he would hurt or kill her best friend—meaning you.”
Heather studied Mike. He was serious. “I contacted people in this building to let me know when Omar got back. Michelle had the first sighting earlier today, so I believe he just got out of jail. I don’t think he’ll try anything this soon.”
Mike was shaking his head, extremely grave. “I don’t put much credence in stories of witchcraft. But the fact that Omar gets people addicted to drugs he imports from South America, and puts that poison in what he calls Witch Potions that supposedly help people, pretty much proves he has no normal restraints about harming people to gain wealth.”
“Glorified snake-oil peddler,” Heather agreed. “From what I understand the chemicals he uses are extremely rare. The prosecution is testing the stuff to prove Omar’s intent to sell dangerous drugs. They were also holding him because he was what they called, ‘harboring a fugitive.’ His employee, Samson Stoker, robbed a bank.
“On top of all that,” Heather continued, “are the charges made by Michelle and Professor Vincent Middleton; he kidnapped them both and dropped them in the ocean near the island of Kauai. Michelle actually pulled Vincent to shore with a belt she held in her teeth because the professor couldn’t swim. But, of course, Omar’s friends say Michelle and the professor are lying. It really is true though, and Michelle might have to testify against Omar.”
“How’d you find out about that?” Mike said. “It sounds like the attorney was practically laying out his case.”
“The prosecution attorney wants me to testify against Omar too, so I guess he just spilled.”
“After you got him drunk on Mai Tais? Or was it just your incredible charm?”
Heather laughed, “I do think he got a little loose lipped...”
She paused, and then lost her train of thought, when there was a piercing shriek. They looked outside where the scream came from, toward the beautiful ocean view, and saw the falling body, screaming and kicking, pass by the balcony on the way down. The hair was long and blond, swirling in the breeze. The shriek was abruptly cut off by another sound...like that of a coconut being smashed.
It happened so fast they looked at each other, stunned. Without a word they got up, went to the edge of the balcony, and looked down. The woman was on the ground near the pool.
Mike swiveled so he was looking up the side of the building. “Can you tell where she came from?”
Heather shook her head, leaning over the balcony, looking down. “No. I don’t see any blood, thank God.”
Mike took out his cell and was calling 911.
“We have to go...see if she’s alive,” Heather said after another long look. “I know who she is.”
Mike nodded, still talking to emergency personal, as they hurried to the elevator. “You know which floor she fell from?”
“She stays with Omar, in the penthouse,” Heather said.
“Top floor.” Mike shook his head, muttering, “Approximately 10 feet per floor, so she fell about 250 feet. A falling body increases velocity every thirty-two feet. Newton’s Law of Gravity. From that height she took about four seconds to land.”
Heather looked at him in surprise when he stated the exact formula for gravity. Mike noticed and said, “Sorry. I recite facts when I’m upset. It’s a distancing ploy, I guess.”
“Does it work?”
“Not this time,” Mike said as they got out of the elevator.
They walked slowly toward the woman and then stopped about twenty feet from her. She was on her back, arms spread out to the side, one leg bent at an odd angle under her. Now there was blood seeping in a pool around her head.
“I told the police you could identify her, so we’ll have to stay here and wait for them,” Mike said.
Heather turned away. “So sad. She seemed upbeat each time I saw her, even though she was just candy. Her name is Wendy. Omar likes candy.”
“What? Oh, arm candy?”
Heather nodded and turned back around when they were further away from the woman and took another swift glance at the body.
“Look at her hand,” Heather whispered. She was staring at the woman’s open palm.
“Is it...?”
“It sure looks like the diamond Michelle had.”
Mike put his arm around Heather and led her further away from the woman they now had no doubt was dead.
They saw a man rushing toward the body from the dark area around the pool that was shaded by an overhanging awning. He was almost like a flickering shadow in the dark of the night. Quick as a weasel, he snatched up the diamond.
“Where’d he come from?” Mike muttered.
Neither of them had heard the elevator’s ding to signal it came to the pool area. It was like he appeared from thin air.
“That’s Omar,” Heather said. She shuddered a little.
“Cold?” Mike asked.
“He creeps me out.”
Omar turned and was walking toward them. He didn’t seem to be holding the diamond any more, but maybe he’d slipped it in his pocket, Heather thought. It took all her strength not to flee, or flinch back, as he came nearer. She knew even if Omar hadn’t pushed Wendy off his balcony, he was ultimately responsible for her death.
Omar stopped in front of them. He showed no emotion when he said, “You informed the police?”
When Mike nodded, Omar said, “Tell them I’ll be waiting upstairs.”
They watched him as he went to the elevators.
“Do you remember an actor in some old films named Yul Brynner?” Mike asked. “He was in ‘The Ten Commandments’ and ‘The King and I.’”
Heather nodded.
“Kind of looks like him, with hair. You know, like he’s Asian, but not? And he has that commanding kind of demeanor and presence.”
“Scary as hell,” Wendy said.
“I got that, too. You’ve got to be very careful. Stay away from him, and Michelle, too. At least until after the trial. Hopefully, they’ll put him away for a long time.”
Moments later they heard undulating sirens and could see sweeping blue and red lights as the police arrived. Doors slammed as uniformed men got out of the cars. Heather went over to the gate for the pool area and opened it with her key. She saw an ambulance, along with two police cruisers.
Five men came in and gathered around the body. One of the policemen came over and asked, “Mike Kapahu?”
Mike nodded. “I called the HPD. We saw her fall.”
They went over the
details with the police, told them Wendy’s name and where she fell from. Mike added that Omar Satinov was upstairs waiting for them. Heather noticed two of the policemen glance at each other when Omar’s name was mentioned. Evidently they knew of him. He’d become something of a sensationalistic character on Oahu because of his upcoming trial and the allegations of witchcraft and various nefarious and secret late night ceremonies on the windward side of the island. There were whispered rumors that he was responsible for the death of a young girl—one of his followers. The problem was that she had disappeared and a body was never found. But witnesses had seen her used as a sacrificial victim in his final witchcraft ceremony, before he was incarcerated. She was bloody but still alive after the ritual. She hadn’t been seen since.
Heather and Mike left the pool area. As they went to the elevator they saw the medical examiner kneeling beside the body. His assistant was taking pictures. Bright strobes flashing in the night.
“That was awful,” Heather murmured when they went back inside her apartment. She went across the living room and pulled the drapes over the window, hiding the spectacular view. “I don’t want to look outside right now.”
Chapter 4
Omar was glad he had the diamond back, but royally pissed off at Wendy. Stupid, dumb, idiot girl! He’d seen the envelope and wrapping paper on the living room floor. It was evident Wendy opened the sealed package Michelle brought over.
Damn, with his upcoming trial, this was not the time to be causing controversy. Here he was, trying to keep a low profile, and now there was a dead woman who had fallen from this balcony. Some would believe he had pushed her, or caused her death by cruelty, so she committed suicide.
He’d been in the midst of a lovely post-coital snooze when he heard the scream, lying next to Leilanie, a gorgeous witch who had pretty much worn him out with her aggressive sexuality. It took him a just a few seconds to throw on a robe. He had run across the Penthouse and onto the balcony. When he looked down he saw Wendy lying by the pool, dead. He also saw two heads poked out over a balcony down below, one blond and one dark. He knew the blond was Heather. She had some man with her who turned and looked up the side of the building.
Omar leapt back. He didn’t want anyone to know he’d been anywhere near that balcony. Then he ran back to the bedroom, quickly donning the black clothes which were his signature; black jeans and a black long sleeved tee shirt to show off his muscles. Omar knew he was vain, but it didn’t hurt to advertise the great shape he kept himself in.
Omar had to get down to the pool area fast. He’d seen the diamond in Wendy’s hand during his quick scrutiny. The stupid bitch must have clung to it tightly all the way down to the ground. He had to move fast, before anyone else arrived and grabbed the valuable gem.
Using his private elevator, he made it to the ground level swiftly, but not fast enough. He heard the ding of another elevator, just after his arrived. He peeked around the elevator doorway and saw Heather and a man moving toward Wendy’s body. They didn’t get too close, so maybe they didn’t notice what was in her hand. He waited until they moved further away from Wendy, then hurried over and quickly snatched up the diamond.
Omar knew how to be intimidating. There was no doubt Heather was afraid of him. She looked like she might flee, and she was shaking. It might be shock, of course, but he knew as he moved closer to her that she suspected he had something to do with Wendy’s death. It was ironic. This time he was innocent.
He strode up to them and told the couple he’d be upstairs waiting when the police came. Unfortunately, the man with her was a well-known celebrity on local TV. Omar didn’t know if he’d have to take care of this situation or not. They could become a threat. He wondered if they had seen him grab the diamond from Wendy’s dead hand.
Omar waited for the police and fumed. He had imminent things to do while he was free and out on bail. This development would just cause the police to put him under more scrutiny. It was especially bothersome because he had carefully made arrangements to leave Oahu for a clandestine trip off the island. It wasn’t something he could put off. He needed the deed done quickly so that, whatever the outcome at the trial’s end, he would still be in control of his destiny and ultimate legacy.
Now Omar would need to use a body double to throw the police off when he left Oahu, but he was so tall and distinctive looking it would be hard to arrange. It wasn’t impossible, though, just a nuisance. He knew the right guy, but getting him here to Oahu might be tricky.
The private elevator buzzed and Omar told the police to come on up through the intercom. He turned the key that unlocked the elevator for his penthouse.
As he waited, Leilanie wandered into the living room. “What’s going on?” She was naked and Omar ordered her to go get dressed.
“Just tell the police the truth,” Omar instructed her as she went into the bedroom. “We were asleep. The scream woke us up.”
“What scream?” Leilanie asked, turning around and looking at him, bewildered and still half asleep.
“Just do what I fucking told you,” Omar thundered, frowning. “We were asleep and we both woke up when we heard Wendy scream. We were in bed together until Wendy screamed. Got that?”
Leilanie was slowly taking baby steps, backing away from Omar’s anger. “I’ll remember,” she said softly. She disappeared into the bedroom and came out quickly wearing jeans and a sawed-off tee shirt that revealed her abdomen and navel. With her long black hair messed up and reaching almost to her waist, and the obvious absence of a bra, Omar had no doubt the policemen would be distracted.
“Pinch your nipples,” Omar said. “I want the police preoccupied,” he added as the elevator arrived. His frown at Lelanie quickly turned to a charming smile as he turned around and met three policemen at the door and bade them enter.
“I know it’s late and you’re all on duty, but perhaps some coffee?” Omar said graciously. “Please sit down.” He ushered them to a couch and gave a significant look at Leilanie. She obediently went to the kitchen to get coffee.
“This is such a sad night,” Omar said. “We were asleep when we heard Wendy scream. She’s been quite distraught. She broke up with her boyfriend, so I asked her to stay here, hoping it would cheer her up.”
Leilanie came into the room with a tray of coffee. She was looking at Omar with raised eyebrows, probably surprised by his lies, but her nipples were poking out nicely, and her high color and swollen lips would convince the policemen they were in bed together when Wendy made the leap.
“We need to see your balcony,” one of the policemen said. The other two were trying not to stare at Leilanie as she served the coffee.
“Of course,” Omar said. “I went out there for a moment, but I didn’t touch anything.”
Leilanie’s eyes widened. “What happened to Wendy?”
The three policemen looked at her, awkwardly. “She fell or jumped,” one explained.
“No!” Leilanie said, frowning and shaking her head. “That can’t be true!”
Omar could read her like a book. She was horrified Wendy had jumped, but not that she was dead. The two women were constantly fighting over him. He’d picked Leilanie for his first sexual partner after two long weeks of miserable abstinence when he’d been in jail because she was like roast beef and potatoes. Thoroughly satisfying and filling. He’d planned on Wendy for dessert. She was sweet, playful and fluffy, not filling, but a wonderful way to finish gorging his lusty appetite.
Leilani’s sudden sobbing and tears weren’t real, but made the police uncomfortable, which was great, Omar thought. They’d leave more quickly.
Omar made the mandatory gestures of comforting Leilani, but she broke free from his embrace and ran barefoot through the sliding glass door out onto the balcony. She grabbed the railing, leaned over, and looked down. The policemen below hadn’t removed the body yet. Leilanie saw the medical examiner bent over Wendy’s broken body. She backed up fast and bent over, sobbing, covering her face with both
hands.
Omar heard one of the policemen say, “She’ll contaminate the scene.”
Two policemen pulled Leilanie gently back into the living room and sat her down on the couch.
Omar silently led them back onto the balcony that encircled his whole penthouse. He loved his balcony terrace. From this side he could see the ocean view and Waikiki. Walking around to the other side, he had a view of the beautiful green scenic mountains in the distance.
It appeared as though Wendy had shed her sandals before she jumped. They were neatly placed next to the railing. A policeman put on gloves and pulled a plastic bag from his pocket. He put the shoes inside the bag.
“We’re making this a crime scene,” he explained to Omar, leading him back into the living room. “Forensics will be up here to dust. Please stay inside and don’t go out there again until he’s finished.” He called one of the men from down below on his cell to come up to Omar’s apartment and do a thorough forensics exam of the terrace. Then they wanted to see the bedroom Wendy was staying in.
This was turning into a long night, Omar thought dismally as he led them to Wendy’s lavish bedroom. More picture taking. More snooping. And Leilanie seemed to be inconsolable. They could hear her continued sobbing throughout the whole place.
After a couple of hours with police tromping all over his penthouse apartment, Omar finally had the place to himself, except Leilanie’s constant crying was irritating and mystifying to him. She had retreated to Omar’s bedroom but her tears seemed to be endless. Omar was perplexed. He didn’t want to sleep with a crying woman wetting the bed with copious tears.
He stood in the doorway to the bedroom. She was curled up on her side, still crying softly and hiccupping. Walking toward the bed, he said, “You two fought like cats and dogs. What is your problem?”
“Wendy was my BFF.”
“BFF?”
“Best Friend Forever,” Leilanie said with a huff, staring at him indignantly with unattractive, red streaming eyes.
Witchy Woman - Book 2 - The Necromancer Page 4
