Satan's Breath

by Temple Madison

  “Bastard!” Greg muttered. “There’s only one brainless idiot around here, and it sure as hell ain’t me!” Rage burning inside him, he walked out into the pit and watched the slow-moving janitor for a moment, and then looked down at the trash baskets he hadn’t emptied yet. With a quick movement of his foot, he cruelly walked around to each one and loudly kicked them over, scattering the contents on the floor.

  Hearing the noise, Erik turned from his slouching position and saw what Greg had done. He looked up at the station manager who was challenging him with his eyes.

  “We both know you can understand me, you stupid prick, so understand this. I know you lied to Mr. Farewell about calling Blaze. You might have fooled him, but not me. It’s going to stop. Do you hear me? You’re sick, you bastard. I can’t believe you’re getting yourself all worked up over a midnight talk show queen. What the hell do you do when you listen to her, jerk off?”

  Erik was silent, looking at him with his sharp, intelligent eyes.

  “Well, I don’t give a damn. You can jerk off all you want to, retard, but if you ever touch her, you’ll answer to me, got it?” He paused, looked down at the mess on the floor, then back up to Erik. “If you don’t have this area cleaned up in fifteen minutes, I’m taking it out of your hide!” Greg turned abruptly and walked back into his office.

  He had been working at his desk a few minutes when he noticed everything had gotten quiet outside. Looking up, he saw that Erik had put down his broom and stubbornly stood among the turned over trashcans with his arms folded across his chest. The gazes of the two men locked while they waited for the fifteen minutes to creep by.

  * * * *

  When Blaze’s phone rang, she was afraid to pick it up. She stared at it for several minutes, then slowly lifted the receiver, but didn’t say anything.

  “Blaze! Are you there?”

  “Scott. Thank God it’s you.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Oh, nothing really. I’m just a little nervous. I think I’ve picked up a stalker. Can you beat it? One lousy week down here in the so called gentle South, and I pick up a stalker.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, I think so. He’s only called once, but he made a threat.”

  “Well, hell, Blaze, one call? You can’t get all excited over one call.”

  “I can when he threatens my life. Every time I go out, I can feel his eyes on me.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I guess you’re right, but remember, try not to act scared. Be as brave as you can, and don’t go berserk. I think they get off on your fear. Makes them feel power over you or something, especially if you’re a celebrity.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll do my best. Anyway, what’s on your mind?”

  “Bad news, I’m afraid. My secretary, Melanie Blake, was killed just the other day.”

  “Oh, my God! What happened, Scott?”

  “Well, I don’t know everything. I went out to a late meeting and told her I wouldn’t be back. When I got in the next day, there she was lying on the floor of my office, blood everywhere. Someone had stabbed her in the throat with a knife. The medical examiner said she’d been dead about fifteen hours.”

  “Do they have any idea who did it?”

  “No, but I have my own ideas.”

  “You do? What do you mean?”

  “Well, I may be way off base here, but I suspect Barry Schorr.”

  Fear ripped through Blaze. “Barry? Why Barry?”

  “When I think about everything that happened, and put it all together, it makes sense.”

  “Scott, what in hell are you talking about?”

  “When I found Melanie, your file was opened up on my desk. Someone had circled the Savannah station with Melanie’s blood. Before that Barry Schorr had called demanding that I tell him where you were.”

  Blaze thought about the phone call she’d received and felt a chill creep up her spine. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’d be capable of something like this.”

  “Well, I could be making something out of nothing. By the way, did you know he lost his job when you walked out?”

  “He lost his job?”

  “That’s what he said. I’m not surprised. He was a nutcase.”

  “Scott, you’re right. It all fits. God, I know it. It’s Barry. He’s the one who called me.”

  “I don’t know, Blaze. I could be wrong, you know.”

  “No, Scott, it’s like you said. It all adds up. Barry gets fired and wants revenge. You wouldn’t tell him where I was, so he gets desperate and tries to find out from Melanie. You find my file open on your desk with the Savannah station circled, and I start getting these weird phone calls. My God, Scott. He’s here! He’s in Savannah!”

  “If it’s true, it surprises the hell out of me.”

  “Well, I’m not surprised. He was always bothering me. You know, trying to feel me up and acting real strange.”

  “Blaze, that doesn’t spell murder. Hell, he was just attracted to you.”

  “Scott, stop making excuses for him. You didn’t see the way he looked at me.”

  “I’ll tell you what. The police said they wanted me to let them know if I found out anything, so let me give them a call and we’ll see what they have to say, okay?”

  “I don’t care what they say, Scott. I was on the other end of those sick, perverted stares. The man is capable of anything.”

  “All right, but if they think it’s nothing, will you stop all this nonsense?”

  “I don’t know, Scott. Are you sure they did a thorough search of your office?”

  “Sure, but if it is Barry, they won’t find anything. He’s never even been in my office. The only thing that came close to a clue was a trace of semen on Melanie’s skirt.”

  “You mean he raped her?”

  “No, it wasn’t that. The police chief said when he stabbed her he probably had an orgasm. He says some of these sickos experience sexual gratification when they kill.”

  “My God!”

  “I know. How much sicker can you get, huh? Hey, I’d better hang up now. I want to call the chief before it gets much later.”

  “Okay, but let me know something as soon as you can.”

  “You got it.”

  * * * *

  As soon as he hung up the phone, Scott Sanders put a call through to the police.

  “Twenty-ninth Precinct,” came the voice rising among the ruckus of the crowded room.

  “Chief Gorman, please.”

  No reply came, and after a few seconds, Scott heard a buzz.

  “Gorman here.”

  “Yes, this is Scott Sanders. I’m calling concerning the Melanie Blake case. I just got off the phone with a friend of mine, and she’s told me some things I think you may need to know.” Scott went through his conversation with Blaze, and after he finished, the chief lapsed into a thoughtful silence. “Well, what do you think?” Scott finally asked.

  “Yeah, it’s possible, but all of this is circumstantial. What we need is hard evidence.”

  “What kind of hard evidence?”

  “Well, a sample of his semen for one thing. A trace is all we managed to lift off the girl’s skirt. I admit it’s not much, but it’s enough if we just had something to compare it to. It would give us the proof we need to put someone on his trail.”

  “Assuming he is in Savannah, aren’t you guys usually able to work together with other police? Couldn’t they pick him up on some kind of trumped up charge, then get what they need?”

  “Mr. Sanders, we can’t afford to pull the tiger’s tail. Eventually, they’d have to let him go, and if he is guilty, he’d know he was under suspicion. The minute he got out, he’d split, probably killing Ms. Alexander along the way. No, we need to handle this very carefully.”

  “So you think there’s a chance it could be Schorr?”

  “Well, it’s the best tip we’ve got so far. If he is guilty, and we handle it right, this information could cut through a lot
of investigation.”

  “Chief, if I can help in any way, you know I will. I’m worried about Ms. Alexander being down there by herself.”

  “Yes, of course, Mr. Sanders. I understand, and I appreciate you calling me with this new information. I’ll get on the phone with the Savannah police and see what we can come up with.”

  * * * *

  While in his stand-off with Greg, Erik’s gaze kept darting toward the telephone. He hated to give in to Greg’s challenge, but he needed to talk to Blaze. If she thought he’d been calling her, he needed to explain. He watched Greg for a moment, and then he glanced over at the telephone again. Finally, while Greg’s head was turned, he took a chance and hurried over to the nearest one. Picking it up, he punched in the numbers.

  Blaze jumped when her phone rang. Thinking it was Scott calling her back, she pressed the speaker button. “Scott, that was…”

  “I’ll be listening to you tonight, Blaze.” The raspy whisper floated out across her bedroom. “Listening, and waiting!”

  “You bastard!” she yelled. “Why the hell don’t you come out in the open like a real man?”

  “I like the dark, Blaze, don’t you? I like to be in the dark listening to you, and thinking about what I’d like to do to you. Blaaaaze,” he whispered, putting his mouth closer to the phone. “I’d like to lick you all over, baby. Press my face into your pussy, and tickle your cunt with my tongue.”

  “Oh, God!” Blaze muttered. She was just about to cut him off when she heard something that sounded like moaning, and knew her voice was arousing him into a noisy orgasm.

  When he could speak again, he continued in his guttural tone. “God, how many times have I made love to my little radio, pretending it was you. Say something to me, Blaze. Say it in that low, sexy radio voice of yours.”

  “You want a thrill? Go stick your big fat fucker in an electrical socket, you pig!” She quickly snapped off the speakerphone, disconnecting him.

  * * * *

  Greg looked up, noticing that Erik was gone. His gaze darted around searching for the janitor while he slowly rose from his desk chair. He quietly made his way to the door and saw Erik just putting the phone down.

  Erik looked up at him guiltily.

  “Who the hell were you calling? Blaze?” Greg rushed over to the phone and grabbed the small piece of paper in Erik’s hand. It was Blaze’s number. His ice cold gaze shot daggers at Erik. “Don’t you move, you bastard.” He punched in Blaze’s number.

  Blaze’s head jerked around when she heard the phone ring again. She looked at the sleek, crouching instrument as if it were a poisonous snake about to strike. Reaching out, she lifted the receiver, thinking if he had just called, chances were it wouldn’t be him again. With a soft, breathy voice, she said, “Blaze Alexander here.”

  “Blaze, this is Greg. Guess what, sweetheart, I’m standing here looking at the creep that’s been calling you.”

  Blaze’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “Yeah, I just found Erik standing by the phone with your number in his hand.” Greg looked over at Erik who was furiously shaking his head, and then heard Blaze say something. “What was that, Blaze?”

  “I said, I think you’re wrong. I think I know who’s been calling me.”

  “But I caught him red-handed and I’ll prove it. How long has it been since you got a call?”

  “Just now, but it couldn’t—”

  “B-busy!” Erik interjected, looking into Greg’s angry eyes.

  “She just got a call, beetle-brain, and it was you, I saw you!”

  “B-busy!” Erik insisted while backing up.

  “I’ll talk to you later, Blaze,” Greg said softly into the receiver. Replacing it gently, he turned and walked toward Erik slowly. “Listen, you sick bastard, I want you to stay away from Blaze Alexander. Do you hear me?”

  Erik was silent.

  “Talk, you son of a bitch. We both know you can talk as well as I can.”

  Erik was still silent, so Greg walked up to him, grabbed his lapels, and stared deep into a pair of eyes that were cool and sharp, and full of understanding. Greg was determined to bring him out, so he pushed Erik backward.

  Erik didn’t respond.

  Greg pushed harder.

  Erik stumbled over a chair.

  He pulled Erik up by his collar, and then swung his arm and backhanded him, hard.

  Erik lurched forward with a killer look in his eyes, but wouldn’t let himself strike back.

  “You friggin’ coward—” Just then Greg heard something behind him. He looked around just in time to see Mr. Farewell come in.

  The station owner looked at both with a question in his eyes. “What’s going on here?”

  “Uh, nothing, Mr. Farewell. Erik and I were just discussing our differences. I think we’ve got everything worked out.”

  Mr. Farewell slid his gaze over at Erik. “Is that right, Erik?”

  Erik nodded, wiping at the blood on his lip.

  The station owner looked back at Greg. “That’s good because I’d hate to have to fire anybody, especially you, Greg.” He turned to leave.

  Greg’s eyes widened, and he forgot Erik while turning to follow the station owner. “But you wouldn’t do that, Mr. Farewell. Who would manage the station for you?”

  Mr. Farewell stopped, turned around, and gave Greg a smirking look. “I don’t know, I imagine Erik here could handle it. Or I could get a trained chimp.”

  * * * *

  That night, Blaze came in and sat down at the console, ready to start her show. She got her signals from the sound engineer, and began.

  “Wake up, Savannah, Blaze Alexander is here. Lower the lights, and find your ladylove. Listen to the music, and let the feeling guide you into the land of ecstasy.”

  As the night passed, Blaze’s sexy moans intimately embraced the people of Savannah, imprisoning them in her perfumed web. Her presence was so real to them, they felt they could feel her hot breath as her deep whiskey voice filled their darkness. Her lush lips moved against the microphone with the enticing softness of a lover’s touch, and within only moments, her words carried them away on an erotic cloud.

  About halfway through her show she noticed movement within the leaning shadows of the station, and pierced the chilling gloom with her suspicious gaze. She was sure someone was watching her.

  After a while, Erik came out of the shadowy veil and Blaze didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. She didn’t want to believe he had been calling her, but because of what had happened this afternoon, she couldn’t help but be wary of him.

  As the evening progressed, she noticed that he kept looking at her strangely. He spent his time peeping around corners, enveloped in shadows, or just standing and watching her, his hair falling in his face. She couldn’t afford to let the stress of the situation get to her, so she continued with her suggestive radio burlesque, keeping her eyes riveted away from him.

  “I called the fire department the other night and a big strong fireman came to my rescue. There I was, cringing all alone in my bed with him standing over me. You should have seen him. He was tall and handsome and had an obscene bulge in the front of his pants. Looking around, he asked me where the fire was. I moved over and invited him to join me, but I had to tell him if he wanted to put out this fire, he was using the wrong hose.”

  The evening seemed to drag on. Finally, after mouthing out her last bit of spicy banter, she hurriedly gathered up her things to go. Leaving the console with the next deejay, she walked out slowly, letting her gaze pierce the darkness around her as she stepped gingerly into sinister pools of shadow.

  When passing by Greg’s office, she hesitated, wanting to talk to him about Erik, but not wanting to get Erik in trouble. Since she wasn’t completely convinced that he was the one calling her, she decided against it and walked on.

  Greg noticed her hesitation, so he jumped up and leaned around his door. “Blaze!” he yelled after her.

  Blaze stopped, and w
ithout turning to him, asked, “What is it, Greg?”

  “Did you want to say something?”

  She turned around, her eyes searching the shadows for Erik, and then walked up to him. “What’s he doing here?” she whispered.

  “Who?”

  “Erik,” she hissed, “who the hell do you think? I thought he worked during the day.”

  “He does.” Greg looked around. “I didn’t even know he was here.” Looking back at her, he tried not to smile, his lips twitching. “Sure you’re not imagining things?”

  “I should have known I’d get that kind of response from you.” She turned to leave. “Go to hell!”

  “Blaze, come back.” He reached up and raked his fingers through his hair. “Hey, look, I’m sorry. I know you’re a little tense right now. All right, if you say he’s here, he must be here.” Greg looked around. “What has he done? Has he made any gestures toward you?”

  “Nothing, really. He just stands in the shadows and stares at me. He gives me the creeps.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” He looked down at her with interest in his eyes. “Got any plans tomorrow? I could—”

  She looked up at him with a sarcastic smile. “Where’s that letter you were going to draw up for me?”

  “Letter? What letter is that?”

  “The one that’s entitled, ‘I’m not interested?’” Giving him a hard look, she whirled on her heels and left.

  When she reached the parking lot, Blaze became nervous. She could feel a presence, but when she looked behind her, she didn’t see anyone. She walked faster, and suddenly jumped when she saw Erik blocking her path.

  “M-Miss Alexander!”

  She stopped dead still. “Leave me alone, Erik,” she said nervously. “Just get out of my way, or I’ll scream.”

  Erik began slowly walking toward her. “But M-Miss Alexander…”

  “Oh, God.” Blaze breathed and began backing up.

  “W-We have t-to talk.”

  “We don’t have anything to talk about, Erik. I just want you to leave me alone and get out of my way, so I can get home.”

  “P-Please, M-Miss—”

  Just then, she darted past him, and he reached out and grabbed her arm. She started to scream, but he pushed her against the car and clamped his hand over her mouth. Looking down into her eyes, he pleaded, “I…I h-haven’t b-been calling you, M-Ms. Alexander. I w-wouldn’t—”