Sinner
- 2 years ago
- 19
- 0
There was only a dim glow illuminating the room when the quiet sounds of movement woke me. I rolled over, burying my face in my pillow hoping to drift back to my fleeting dream, when someone leaned over me, softly trailing kisses down my neck. As my attention was pulled away from sleep by the delicious sensations, I turned to see who it was and felt soft lips press against my own.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," Shani enthused. When I cracked one eye open to glance up, I saw her face was smiling in the early morning light. "Are you going to sleep the entire day away?" she asked in a bright and chipper voice.
The events of the previous night slowly came back to me. I had spent the previous evening bemoaning how my life had suddenly become so complicated, and I again started to feel overwhelmed. Without forewarning, I now had a near stranger who wanted to dedicate her future to me, and the fact that I was now somehow responsible for her was intimidating. I was still a young man, finishing an uneventful high school experience and just preparing to enter University life. The last thing I needed was an unexpected responsibility just when I was looking forward to a carefree existence of boobs, booze and drugs.
"Good morning," I grumbled, my voice still groggy from sleep as I attempted to project a more pleasant persona than I felt. "If someone woke me like that every morning, I probably wouldn't be as late for school as I usually am," I added, masking my unease with a smile as I briefly kissed her back.
"Yeah," my sister cackled from across the room as she flicked on a bedside lamp. "I can see Mom doing that every morning."
"Oh yuck, oh yuck," I retorted. "Just go putting thoughts like that in my head when I wake up in such a good mood, why don't you?" Thoughts of my mother kissing me awake, each of us under dressed in night time attire, filled me with dread.
"Yeah stud," teased Shani, "we can both see what a good mood you're in this morning." I looked down and saw that I'd awoken, twisted up in my sheets, leaving my nether regions exposed. I blushed furiously and struggled for several moments trying to untangle my sheets in order to cover myself, all to no avail, so I finally just surrendered and sat up.
At this point both girls were openly laughing at me. Well, giggling actually. They were enjoying my reaction, not taking pleasure in my discomfort, I guess.
My sister and I liked to tease, but I knew I could always trust her to look out for me; especially given her renewed promise last night. I also knew that however nervous I might feel about Shani's influence on my life, that she really only wanted the best for me.
"Does your brother usually wake up like that?" Shaniqua pressed while leering at the tangle of sheets tented at my mid-section.
"Hell yeah," my sister replied. "Why do you think I always check that he's up? Mom just yells upstairs. It's my responsibility to actually make sure he gets up and stays up," Cate pressed on, refusing to let my torment lapse. Man, I didn't think I'd ever stop blushing. My sister was clearly teasing, as she'd never caught me in inappropriate attire and rarely came in to wake me in the morning. That was something that I took pride in, self-sufficiency. I also made sure I wore a belt every day, so my butt crack wasn't showing.
The girls went about starting their day. Man, two girls in the morning are much worse than just one. Usually I just have to beat my sister into the bathroom when getting ready for school, but today the two girls managed to monopolize it. They didn't even care if I was using the facilities, something my sister is normally very careful of, but apparently she was emboldened by Shani's cavalier attitude because she didn't let it bother her in the least.
"Hey, you mind?" I protested when Cate wandered past as I sat completely exposed on the toilet.
"Nope," she teased as she leaned forward and peered at herself in the mirror—forcing me to glance away as the back of her sleep tee rode up and exposed a good bit of her panty-clad backside, mere inches from my face. "Though it'd be more interesting if you weren't hiding all the good bits," she tossed over her shoulder.
Somehow I managed to maintain my composure, though I was being horribly abused and could hardly stop blushing. Luckily, my parents soon rescued me—sort of.
"Good morning all. Any psychic grandbabies on the way yet?" teased my mother, smiling gaily as I let her into the room. I'm not sure I've seen her quite this happy and relaxed in a long time. It was disconcerting to consider that the very things that so terrified me made her feel so good, especially when you consider all the extremely weird circumstances surrounding recent events.
"Morning kids," welcomed my father, trying desperately to change the topic regarding his precious children creating progeny in the next room. "Any plans for the day yet?"
"I was thinking I'd take y'all to a good ol' fashioned Orleans' Baptist church this morning," Shani offered, her voice happy despite my parents' teasing about what they assumed we'd been doing last night. "I thought you'd appreciate some authentic cultural appreciation on a nice Sunday morning." It sounded like she was really trying to win over my parents.
"Sounds great!" My mother replied. "Is it your church?"
"Oh no," Shani stated, surprised by the question. "Like most Jamaicans, I'm Episcopalian. The Baptist church is just a tourist thing so you can see how all the American blacks sing out loud and proud on Sunday."
"Episcopalian?" echoed our father, digging for yet more information. "Any reason why that denomination?"
"Duh, Frank," Mom chided him. "She just said it's the basic church in Jamaica."
Dad blushed but continued on anyway. "Yeah, I heard that part, but I meant why do you remain in that church? And why not just take us there instead?"
"Well, personally I'm just comfortable there, but it is fairly odd," she explained. "It's one of the oldest of the Protestant denominations, and although it's one of the most conservative it's also one of the most liberal. One faction wants to merge back with the Catholic Church—the only concession being that the Episcopalian priests can marry. Another faction wants to allow gay marriage and have both gay and women priests. And there's a third that remains fiercely conservative, bordering on fundamentalist." She shrugged as it were no big deal. "I'll admit, it's kind of a schizophrenic denomination."
"That doesn't really speak to why you like it," my father reminded her.
My mother sighed loudly before turning to Shani to translate. "He's asking you if you're religious and what your religious beliefs are," she explained. "Honestly Frank, if you're going to grill someone, at least have the decency to ask them what you want to know." We all chuckled at his expense and I felt a little better knowing I wasn't the only one being picked on this morning. I think Mom had definitely softened as far as Shani was concerned. But then I suddenly realized; if Mom was this accepting of Shani she'd likely throw a fit when I explained that I didn't want to remain in contact with her. I supposed I'd have to take her aside fairly soon and discuss the issue with her. Only getting time alone to discuss things was getting to be a harder feat to accomplish, what with more people around me all the time.
"Oh, I'm pretty religious," Shani replied, "but I'm not real strict or anything. I try to be a good person, but I'm not going to reject someone because they don't agree with me." She flashed him a crooked smile and added, "Clearly I don't object to premarital sex and birth control." Her smile vanished and she paled the second she realized what she'd just said.
"Oh, no," she gasped briefly as she waved her hands. "Wait! That's not what I meant. What I meant was—"
"We know exactly what you meant, dear," my mother patiently and calmly told her, patting her on the arm. "Don't be afraid of your beliefs, especially moderate beliefs. It seems nowadays that the only beliefs that are allowed are extremist views, either on the left or the right. Part of life is getting by and being at peace, you can't very well be at peace if you're trying to fight the entire world."
"So why the Baptist church instead of your own?" my father asked once again.
Shani shrugged once more. "It's what I've found most visitors expect. Actually most of the city is Catholic so most churches in the French Quarter are as well, but the Baptists are much more fun. It's pretty equivalent to watching a funeral march in the street. Everyone dresses up, there is lots of loud singing and dancing, just no jazz band leading the way. The Catholic churches in the area provide their own bands and even do the occasional funeral march, but being Catholic, they're pretty reserved in their services," she explained with a smile.
"So who's coming with us?" my father asked the room in general.
"Coming with us?" I asked stupidly, however everyone else seemed to be prepared.
"Natalie told me she was interested in going wherever we chose to go," Mom stated, not specifying whether she meant to church or any activities in general.
"Patricia said that she and Henry would like to spend more time with us," Shani contributed.
"Yeah, I can see Henry wanting to spend more time with Alex," Cate scoffed. I could tell that Cate took an instant disliking to Henry because he didn't like me much. She was always pretty protective of her older brother. I'm not sure what I'd ever done to deserve it, but she was always quick to help me out in any way that she could.
"Be nice Cate," Mom scolded her. "This isn't easy for him either."
"After all, it's Sunday," Dad echoed, even though I knew he wasn't shy about speaking ill of people he didn't like, he just didn't think you should speak ill of people just before walking into church.
"OK, let's start calling everyone and get this party organized. I assume we need to dress up for this?" Mom asked.
"Oh yes, very," Shani insisted. "In fact, you're likely to see the biggest collection of hats you've seen in some time. I know big hats aren't much in fashion in most churches, but for black American women it's all the rage."
"Oh good, it's been ages since I've known anyone to get fancied up for church," Mom stated. Cate and Shani already had their phones out and were busy making calls.
"Before everyone starts calling, let me see if I can contact Patricia. I figure that'll be more likely to convince Henry than anything else I can say. What's the address and name of that church?" I asked the girls. Shani, who was in the process of calling her, held up and told me the name.
"That's a great idea Alex," Cate told me excitedly. "It's about time you started experimenting with these new abilities. There are just so many things we could be checking."
"Now Cate, let's not get carried away," I told her firmly. "Just let me figure things out on my own. I'm a bit nervous about experimenting with something I don't understand," I told her. She frowned, but she'd get over it. I hated to constrain her curiosity since she'd been so helpful so far, but there's a time and a place for everything. Right now it was time for me to try speaking with Patricia.
Thinking carefully I thought, 'Patricia?' but couldn't tell if it was effective or not. Thinking about what Cate had said about the emotional content of telepathic messages, I figured a weak willed question wouldn't have much of an effect so I forcefully thought the name and address, then added the thought, 'wear a hat'. Once again, I was left without a clear indication that the message had gotten through.
When I looked up I saw that everyone was looking at me.
"Did you get through?" Cate asked.
"It's hard to tell," I tried to explain. "I usually don't get clear messages or distinct answers; it's mostly just vague impressions."
"Except when he gets mad," Shani quipped. We all looked at her so she continued. "When he gets annoyed, his words resound in your head like the voice of God in a small temple. It kind of echoes around in there."
"See, I told you," Cate insisted. "Er, sorry, I meant that my theory was correct." Having been 'scolded' by our mother and cautioned by me she tried not to gloat, but she couldn't let the opportunity to inform me that her theory was correct pass untaken.
"Well, I remembered what you said, Cate, so I tried to be a little more forceful when sending the message." I had thought I'd done the right thing but both Shani and Cate paled, leaving me confused.
"Oh no," Shani told me. "We wanted to invite her to church, not scare the bejeebes out of her."
"She's right, Alex. You speaking like that might be like shouting, and in her current frame of mind that might not be a good thing. She's been walking on eggshells around you already," Cate advised me. "Maybe we should call her?"
"No, that's not a good idea," I told her. "The idea was to impress Henry. Calling her to clarify a message he probably doesn't know about isn't going to send much of a message. If she takes him to a church and we show up, right on schedule, that's the type of message I'm trying to send him."
"Yeah, unless you scare the poor girl in the process," Cate countered.
"I don't think I was that harsh," I argued. "I just tried to think it in a way that it'd be clearer."
"Clearer?" Shani asked. "Alex, when a loud voice echoes in your head, insisting you do something, that's likely to have more of an effect than you expect."
"I don't think I was that pushy," I insisted. "Besides, she's heard me speak to her mentally before. She'll know what I meant by it." The women shook their heads but didn't try to argue with me about it.
"The service starts fairly early so we'll have to have a fast breakfast," Shani warned.
"That should be OK; we'll see Natalie when we go downstairs for a quick breakfast. I don't know if she'll be off yet but we can at least keep her abreast of what our plans are," Cate informed us.
I had thought it was awkward getting dressed with two women in the room with me, now I had to pick out my formal clothes and get dressed while the room was filled with people. Dad only had to slip on a tie, since he already had on his jacket. Mom and Cate wanted to find their prettiest dresses and, of course, had to consult with everyone else on which one it might be. In the meantime, I was trying to find a nice quiet place to slip my pants off, but of course by now Dad had returned and was grinning at me watching my discomfort.
"Face it son, if you keep collecting females like you have the last two days, you'd best get comfortable doing a lot more than just getting changed in front of other people." He seemed greatly amused by my predicament but he had a point. I swallowed my pride and undressed right there in front of everyone. Heck, the worst they'd see is me in my underwear, and at least Mom had taught me to wear clean ones every morning. Something about buses, I think she said.
We eventually got everything straightened out and got organized fairly quickly, but that wasn't the end of the show. The women had to fix their hair and do their makeup together. Dad signaled me and we left with a short word about starting breakfast without them. We wandered downstairs, commenting on the difficulties of dealing with women. Actually that was something I was familiar with, having several sisters, but Dad proceeded to tell me that I hadn't seen anything yet.
"Just wait," he remarked with a grin, "living with several women is one thing. Having one attached to you is another, but having several who feel they have a say in your behavior is something else again." His grin grew wider when I stated I didn't have it that bad yet. I hoped he was wrong.
When we got to the dining room Natalie met us and led us to a table, acting like the professional hostess she was.
"Has anyone spoken to you about our plans?" my father asked her.
"Oh yes," she responded. "I got someone to take over the rest of my shift so I can join you. I've got a nice throw I can toss over this that should be OK," she assured us, indicating her uniform. "Shani called down and asked me to send her something she could wear to church, since she didn't have anything appropriate," she continued, giving me a knowing look.
We told her that the other ladies would be down shortly as they were busy preparing for the service.
"That's OK," she assured us, "I can have you to myself until they come down." Strange, but she was only looking at me when she told us both this. I need to have a word with her about appropriate business behavior when dealing with psychic teenagers, I thought with a grin. My father shared my humor with me, instantly recognizing just what I was smiling about.
"You do have a way with the ladies around here," he told me after we'd ordered what had become our new tradition, café au laits. We were well into a couple of omelets with toast before the girls showed up. They simply looked at us, did a little, "tsk, tsk," type of thing, and then told us to hurry as there wasn't much time to get to the church. I guess they were rather liberal in their use of 'not much time' as we weren't so hurried that we couldn't walk the full way there—although I suspect the girls decided there certainly wasn't time for breakfast simply because they were worried about popping out of their outfits during the service. Still, the walk was nice. I still garnered looks, but Cate mentioned that she recognized a few from before, which my father seconded, so I began to think we were dealing with a smaller number of people than we first thought.
We'd left early so we managed to get there in time to find decent seats. Entering, I saw Patricia and Henry waiting for us. Actually it was her jumping up and running towards me that alerted me to where they were. She was dressed in an elegant black dress with delicate black lace around the edges. I figured she carried it on her concert tour as it was very egalitarian and could be used for just about any occasion and still look appropriate. However, the extravagant hat she was trying to hold steady as she ran, was anything but. It was red and black with a wide brim curled up on one side with a large feather and some sort of fruit on top. Watching her run in it was quite interesting, as it was primarily interested in blowing away. She kept clutching at it as she rushed to meet me. She finally had to slow down and walk at a hurried pace, with Henry rushing to keep up.
She ran into my arms and immediately started apologizing. "I'm sorry, I got this from the first hat shop I could find," she insisted, seemingly afraid I was going to punish her over her hat choice. "I'm not really a hat person, but when you insisted I bring one I rang up everyone I could find until I discovered someone who could see me on short notice."
Shani nudged me in the side and looked at me smugly, letting me know my message had been anything but subtle. Cate merely looked meekly at me, afraid to point out she'd been right after all, but I got the message. I'd have to watch my abilities in the future.
"Sorry for yelling, Patricia," I told her, assuming my message was the equivalent of a new computer user typing in all caps. "I'm still getting used to this stuff." She sniffed a little.
"That's OK. I was just worried you were upset with me and that wearing a hat was important to you."
I just had to sigh in resignation. I'd better watch what I said telepathically and, more importantly, how I said it. I guess sometimes it's less important that the message get through than the risk of sending the wrong message. As Patricia released me and stepped back Henry stepped up to shake my hand in greeting, even as I glanced at how much attention we were attracting by this display in the middle of the center aisle.
"Wow, I wasn't sure what to expect when Patty insisted we find a hat shop first thing in the morning. She bolted up from a dead sleep and insisted we find a hat immediately. I almost thought she was going to head out to the first one without even putting on any clothes," he said, laughing a little. I was beginning to revise my initial estimate of the value of his support in helping Patricia adapt to her new abilities. "I thought we were on a fool's errand but here you are. You really didn't call her or arrange this last night, did you?"
I didn't even bother responding. If he didn't believe it after I arranged a show like that, it just showed there wasn't much sense in trying to convince skeptics. I doubted he'd accept what we were saying or that he'd be much help even if he did. I suspect he was too used to taking from Patricia to ever think of giving anything in return. Instead I took Shani's arm in mine and offered Patricia the other. She accepted and we set off, allowing everyone else to follow as.
It was a beautiful church, not quite as ornate as the typical Catholic edifices but built with the quality of an earlier century. Shani had been right about the hats. It seemed the rows were filled with a visual cacophony of beautiful hats. I suppose if you're going to invest in a fancy hat, then you'd wear it whenever the opportunity presented itself, and I didn't think there were many times you could get away with wearing one. My parents and I hadn't wanted to sit in the front, but Patricia hadn't given us the option of sitting farther back. Still, I didn't notice a lot of other white people in the congregation. But by now, that was just another thing to attract people's attention.
We'd grown into quite a group. There were the four of us from my family, plus Shani, Natalie and then Patricia and Henry. That meant we were now a party of eight, which required almost a full row to ourselves. My parents entered first, followed by Natalie and Cate. Shani went next, pulling me along putting Patricia beside me and leaving Henry on the far end. We watched the stragglers fill in the few open spots left as the service time neared. I'd observed the amount of overweight people wandering the streets of New Orleans before, but you can ignore it when they're mixed in with lots of other people. Sitting here in a group of mostly local black church goers, about all you could see were wide women wearing extravagant, colorful hats. I was sure I would reinforce a lot of racial stereotypes if I ever told stories about it, but it was fun to watch it happening.
It didn't take long for everyone to fill in and the music started playing. We each picked up a hymnal and started singing. Some of the voices there were beautiful but I was most taken by those around me. I knew that Patricia had a beautiful soulful voice, but I was astounded by Shani's as well. Hers was almost operatic in her range and vocal depth. I looked at them both, sitting on either side of me, with a newfound respect.
While we were singing, with me merely mouthing the words since I was so intimidated by the two natural voices on either side of me, I saw Cate fussing around in her purse. I wondered why she'd be so rude, but tried not to be distracted by it. Glancing at her again, I saw her getting her little portable camera ready and wondered what she was doing when I noticed the voices around me trail off as everyone was turning in their seats, glancing at the back of the church. Looking back, I observed a woman moving towards us from the church's entrance, about the only direction you could approach us from I guess, but she was about to reach over Henry trying to signal me.
"Please Father, if I—" It was just then that our eyes met. I saw her face clearly. She was younger than both Shani and Patricia but still older than me, although I suspected she looked younger than she actually was. She had bright red hair. Not the kind of red that's bottle fed, that extra bright look that's unnatural looking. Instead it was a pale more natural color, although the consistent color argued it probably was still produced from a bottle. She had pale white, milky skin to go along with the hair but lacked the characteristic freckles to go along with it. She had on a very nice, off-white dress with long gloves on both hands. That was about all I could observe before she recoiled and almost fell over onto Patricia and Henry.
Everyone moved quickly trying to assist her, and the erratic activity effectively halted much of the singing, focusing even more attention on us. It took a bit for her to recover her senses and I immediately recognized the glassy, squinting look to her eyes and knew what she was experiencing. Yep, she started glancing around the crowded church, focusing on the different people around her.
"Quick, let's get out of here before she—" I managed to say before she refocused, turning to me.
Once again holding a gloved hand up to shield her eyes, she asked, "Wha ... What happened?"
"Shhh," I urgently whispered as I stood and tried to lead her away, backwards out of the aisle. It was hardly a graceful move but I accomplished it. When I managed to gain the clearing of the central aisle, I realized the music had completely stopped and everyone was watching us, including the minister who'd been about to start his service.
"It's nothing, I'll make sure she's all right," I hurried to tell everyone as I felt a blush overwhelming my face. Unfortunately, the girl who'd just approached me took that moment to collapse beside me. I don't know if she was trying to humble herself, worship me or whether she simply hadn't recovered from her shock, but she was on her knees before I could stop her.
"Do you need any help?" I heard a deep, baritone voice asking from nearby. I was trying to urge her up without making a scene, but wasn't having much luck.
"Please Father, forgive me," she wailed, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. "Forgive me for I have sinned."
Shit, I thought to myself, this is getting to be too much. Just once, I'd like to have an encounter like this where it didn't cause a scene. No, I cautioned myself, Dad always told me to be careful what I wished for, because that was usually exactly what you got and you'd usually regret it when it happened. I wasn't sure how I'd regret anything more than a scene like this, but if it was possible, I was sure it was likely to happen.
"Please, I'm not a reverend," I quietly insisted as I took a step in the direction of the entrance, trying to help her stand while backing up.
"I'm sorry, please, clearly you're an angel sent from—"
I could see where this was heading, however I felt stymied because I knew if I reacted instinctively I'd end up shouting at her mentally and then I'd have to calm her afterwards. Instead I simply hissed, "Please, stand up and let's discuss this outside."
By now Henry had stepped aside and both Patricia and Shani rushed in, clasping the woman's arms and assisting me in helping her to stand and guiding her towards the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cate holding her camera to her eyes and thought some very unbrotherly thoughts about her. Something about a nice location for her to store her camera, but I left them unsaid as I was still trying to ease us gingerly out of the building.
A few people began to move towards us, whether to assist us or to try to protect her from us I couldn't tell, but both Shani and Patricia began whispering to the unknown lady and she seemed to be listening enough to follow their lead. We ended up moving swiftly away, me walking backwards leading the new woman, my parents following us apologizing on our behalf, the two girls talking to the woman I was pulling behind me and Cate filming the entire event for posterity.
By the time we finally exited the sanctuary—with Natalie holding the doors open for me—I was about ready to blow a gasket. I was about to let loose with some language when I caught my mother's eye and thought better of it. Not only would I have to deal with her, but there would also be other complications for swearing in church ranging from Cate's teasing, my father's lecture and disappointment from the others, so I just didn't want to go there. Just as I was debating what I was going to do, I noticed movement at the doors and watched someone push them open.
However, just as he began to exit the sanctuary the new woman dropped to her knees again. She was physically prevented from doing anything else by Shani and Patricia, but she started wailing. She managed to keep it quiet, but it was still a wail.
"Please, don't punish me for my sinful ways. I'll repent. I'll do better. I'll..." As she began a litany of the things she'd do to atone for whatever she thought she'd done, the figure in the door stepped inside, observing what was occurring as he hurried to close the sanctuary door, dampening the sound of her cries inside the church. The girls were busy whispering to her, trying to calm her again. The man now standing in front of us was an older darker man with balding gray hair. He simply looked at the scene laid out before him and considered what he was seeing. It was clear from his attire that he was a lay leader, and not a church official himself.
"Look," I said, thinking I'd best get a handle on this before it got any further out of hand, "you can see a Priest later to repent. That's not my department." I know, it's a terrible thing to say to a distraught woman, but under the circumstances it was all I could think of.
Translation of German words or phrases at the end. However, I have tried to make the meaning fairly clear in context. PRAY FOR US SINNERS Part 1 “Hail, Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with Thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death. Amen.” Leaning over to the nightstand beside my bed, I take the rosary that Father Bauer gave me so long ago out of the...
Translation of German words or phrases at the end. However, I have tried to make the meaning fairly clear in context. PRAY FOR US SINNERS Part 1 “Hail, Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with Thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death. Amen.” Leaning over to the nightstand beside my bed, I take the rosary that Father Bauer gave me so long ago out of the...
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Chapter Eight The team from the crime lab was still hard at work when Michelle got back to the victim’s apartment. They, for the most part, ignored her as she stood in the doorway watching them work. Pictures were being taken, evidence cataloged, fingerprint powder spread over every conceivable surface. The victim’s bedroom was dark except for a bright blue spotlight that was slowly going over the surface of the bed. It was amazing to watch. Each member of the team seemed to know exactly...
Prologue The blade shimmered with life. It glimmered in the gloomy darkness, light from the single bare bulb hanging from the low ceiling next to the stairs danced hypnotically off the eight inch long blade. It captured his whole attention, sucking him in, drawing him away from the slender naked figure cowering in the corner of the cold dark cellar. It seemed to breathe, to talk to him. He ran a finger slowly along the back edge of the knife, caressing it while the knife spoke to him of...
Nick walked into his office whistling, in too good of a mood to let much bother him. Despite the lack of sleep, another body found, and his upcoming dressing down by the sheriff, he felt like a million bucks. He opened the door, pausing when he saw Michelle sitting behind his desk. Her head was leaning against her hand which was propped up on the wooden surface, her eyes were closed and her mouth was opened slightly. He could hear the deep, even sound of her breathing from here. He stood...
‘I know you RSVP’d the Mayor, dear. I’ll be ready to go. Just give me a couple more minutes,’ he spoke patiently into the phone, the nagging overtones of his wife shattering the euphoria he had felt a few moments before. ‘Yes dear, we have plenty of time before the opening speeches. I promise, I’ll be right in.’ He stared blindly at the wall next to the phone, a wall covered by sheets of pegboard where his tools hung neatly and in order by size. Everything was clean, kept that way by his...
They’re putting together a task force, he thought as he rubbed his hands together, almost giggling in delight. A task force in his honor. It was almost like getting an academy award. He did giggle then, thinking about standing at a podium, Nick Saint handing him the head of a dead girl as a trophy. Too delicious. He was down in his laboratory, what he called the underground room where he kept his research. His latest case file was open in front of him letting him relive every glorious moment,...
Michelle pulled her seat-belt a little tighter, not caring if Nick saw it or not. The man drove like a maniac. She had felt safer being in a car with Sam, even though the man was a pervert and lazy as hell. She felt her stomach tighten as the light in front of them turned yellow and he sped up, going through it just as it turned red. ‘Is this your way of trying to back out?’ she asked him through gritted teeth. Nick looked over at her, sitting stiffly in the low slung passenger bucket seat in...
Detective Nicholas Saint stood in the bathroom of the Lapeer County Sheriff’s station, hands gripping one of the three sinks lining one wall, staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and bleary, evidence of too much Jack Daniels and too many sleepless nights. His hair was mussed from running his hands through the thick black strands in frustration. He grimaced at the sour taste of cigarettes and over cooked coffee in his mouth. This was too much. He had come home to the town...
Michelle tossed the wrapper to her hamburger in the trash with a flick of her wrist. Then she scattered the rest of her fries on the ground for the birds and the squirrels and sipped on her chocolate shake. The sun was hot on her bare shoulders, the breeze cool on her cheeks. She actually felt better, almost human again. Nick was sitting next to her, drowning french fries in ketchup and munching on them. ‘So,’ he started, keeping his tone of voice light despite the feeling of dread he...
Chapter Nine Hmmm, heaven was built on spicy Szechwan chicken. Michelle popped the last bite into her mouth and sat back on the couch, her hand on her flat stomach. She had changed clothing before sitting down with Nick and the food, putting on a pair of short black leggings and an oversized FBI tee shirt her brother had gotten for her when he went to Quantico for some training classes a few months ago. With her hair pulled up in a long blonde ponytail and no makeup, she looked all of ten...
His head was pounding, his stomach a constant churning ache. He managed to open the door to his office and slink over to his chair, wincing at the sound it made when he pulled it back. He sank down into it, laying his head on his arms on the desk, praying that either God would take mercy on him or kill him. Killing him would be a mercy today and God didn’t grant such mercies to people like him. Nick reached into the middle drawer of his desk, his fingers going over the different pill bottles...
This is originally my first time posting something for you guys, I accidentally posted this in forums and not, your know, stories. I do have personal stories, though, I dont think you are Ready for them. Please, good Comments, I tried really hard on it, though Tips would be nice if you think something is wrong.If you saw the story before ((Trip to the Market)) Youll see I accidentally posted it twice, please ignore. If you do think its a bit long, oh well, I want to impress you guys so.. Enjoy....
Detective Nicholas Saint stood in the bathroom of the Lapeer County Sheriff's station, hands gripping one of the three sinks lining one wall, staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and bleary, evidence of too much Jack Daniels and too many sleepless nights. His hair was mussed from running his hands through the thick black strands in frustration. He grimaced at the sour taste of cigarettes and over cooked coffee in his mouth. This was too much. He had come home to the...
Those words came to haunt Nick. No identification on either of the victims. They had managed to get fingerprints on victim one. She wasn't in any system that Nick had available to him, including AFIS, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System. So, whoever she was, she didn't have a record and had never been fingerprinted. It had been impossible to fingerprint victim two. The decomposition had been too devastating, animals had destroyed what the killer hadn't. Dental records weren't...
Michelle pulled her seatbelt a little tighter, not caring if Nick saw it or not. The man drove like a maniac. She had felt safer being in a car with Sam, even though the man was a pervert and lazy as hell. She felt her stomach tighten as the light in front of them turned yellow and he sped up, going through it just as it turned red. "Is this your way of trying to back out?" she asked him through gritted teeth. Nick looked over at her, sitting stiffly in the low slung passenger bucket seat...
"I know you RSVP'd the Mayor, dear. I'll be ready to go. Just give me a couple more minutes," he spoke patiently into the phone, the nagging overtones of his wife shattering the euphoria he had felt a few moments before. "Yes dear, we have plenty of time before the opening speeches. I promise, I'll be right in." He stared blindly at the wall next to the phone, a wall covered by sheets of pegboard where his tools hung neatly and in order by size. Everything was clean, kept that way by...
His head was pounding, his stomach a constant churning ache. He managed to open the door to his office and slink over to his chair, wincing at the sound it made when he pulled it back. He sank down into it, laying his head on his arms on the desk, praying that either God would take mercy on him or kill him. Killing him would be a mercy today and God didn't grant such mercies to people like him. Nick reached into the middle drawer of his desk, his fingers going over the different pill...
He was being called on the carpet. Again. He heaved a huge sigh of disgust. The cost of doing this job and doing it the way it was supposed to be done meant pushing limits, pissing people off at times and at others, bending the rules just a bit. He tried to smile at Michelle, to offer a little comfort. There wasn't any reason that she should be there. He was the one that had decided to not call in the crime scene guys right away. He didn't follow procedure. He was primary, his decision so...
Time held no meaning for her any longer. The few moments that she had in the light were shadowed by him. The rest of the time, she was alone in the dark with the voices. She didn't know if it were night or day. She didn't know how long she had been held here. And she held no hope that she would ever leave. The lack of hope was what was the hardest. At least, when she hoped, she could imagine something better, her parents meeting her at the airport with open arms and forgiving smiles. Her...
The team from the crime lab was still hard at work when Michelle got back to the victim's apartment. They, for the most part, ignored her as she stood in the doorway watching them work. Pictures were being taken, evidence cataloged, fingerprint powder spread over every conceivable surface. The victim's bedroom was dark except for a bright blue spotlight that was slowly going over the surface of the bed. It was amazing to watch. Each member of the team seemed to know exactly what their job...
Hmmm, heaven was built on spicy Szechwan chicken. Michelle popped the last bite into her mouth and sat back on the couch, her hand on her flat stomach. She had changed clothing before sitting down with Nick and the food, putting on a pair of short black leggings and an oversized FBI tee shirt her brother had gotten for her when he went to Quantico for some training classes a few months ago. With her hair pulled up in a long blonde ponytail and no makeup, she looked all of ten years...
The door creaked open and the switch was thrown. Light filled the underground room. Another soft click and the tape was stopped, the voices disappearing. The figure on the table blinked in surprise at the light and lack of noise, the quiet was more disturbing now than the voices. They had become friendly and familiar, even if the words were evil and bloody. The voices meant that she was alone and that no one would hurt her. She was safe with them. When they stopped was when she felt...
The shrill scream of the phone woke her and she reached for it without opening her eyes. She managed to pick it up, fumbled it for a second and then held it to her ear. "Yeah?" she croaked, managing to put in one word her anger that all her longing for sleep, peace and quiet was going down the tubes. "Deputy Parsons?" Oh, shit. She knew that voice. She sat straight up and then gathered the sheet back up over her breasts. "Yes, Sheriff, what can I do for you?" She heard a groan of...
Nick walked into his office whistling, in too good of a mood to let much bother him. Despite the lack of sleep, another body found, and his upcoming dressing down by the sheriff, he felt like a million bucks. He opened the door, pausing when he saw Michelle sitting behind his desk. Her head was leaning against her hand which was propped up on the wooden surface, her eyes were closed and her mouth was opened slightly. He could hear the deep, even sound of her breathing from here. He stood...
Michelle tossed the wrapper to her hamburger in the trash with a flick of her wrist. Then she scattered the rest of her fries on the ground for the birds and the squirrels and sipped on her chocolate shake. The sun was hot on her bare shoulders, the breeze cool on her cheeks. She actually felt better, almost human again. Nick was sitting next to her, drowning french fries in ketchup and munching on them. "So," he started, keeping his tone of voice light despite the feeling of dread he...
They're putting together a task force, he thought as he rubbed his hands together, almost giggling in delight. A task force in his honor. It was almost like getting an academy award. He did giggle then, thinking about standing at a podium, Nick Saint handing him the head of a dead girl as a trophy. Too delicious. He was down in his laboratory, what he called the underground room where he kept his research. His latest case file was open in front of him letting him relive every glorious...
She took a deep breath to calm herself before grabbing her briefcase and getting out of her little Neon. She slammed the door a trifle too hard and took another deep breath. Last night had been the worse. She had come home, thinking that she would work herself into a coma. It hadn't worked that way. She should be exhausted. Normally would be exhausted. But her brain wouldn't turn off. Bodies and Nick, the case, the way he had felt against her body, in her body. She finally had slammed the...
Damn, damn, damn! Today of all days. Her dependable little Neon had to pull something like this. She slammed the car door shut and reached carefully for the hood latch. Steam was billowing out from around the hood of the car, a red light was blaring at her on the dash, and she was way out in the back of nowhere, on a short cut she had taken hundreds of times and never had another thought about. She burned herself on the steam as she finally found the latch and yanked her hand out, sticking...
He sat at his desk, happily writing on lined paper. He was documenting his experiences of the day, the way it had felt to be in that conference room, to know that they were all gathered there for him. He wished he had recorded it somehow, had taken in a mini recorder. Instead he had to rely upon his memories. But that was okay. He remembered how it felt to have Detective Nick Saint shake his hand, talk to him as if he were an equal. The seriousness in the man's voice when he had spoken of...
The move to the new task force headquarters was done with the least amount of fuss possible. No cop cars would be allowed in the parking lot. No one was to know where they were located. Every precaution was to be used to keep this location a secret from the public and the news people. The newsies were getting too brazen and brave as it was. The warehouse was huge inside, with two offices on a second floor. There were two rooms on the first floor, a main warehouse as you walked into the front...
Disappointment. It was bitter and acidy in his mouth. He had been primed for the press conference, ready to bask in the expression of horror on the faces of the people as his crimes were recited. Ready to glow with pleasure at the seriousness of all the law enforcement agencies that were out there hunting him down. The predator, the stalker, the Knife. He had gotten there early, in the guise of helping set things up. He had worked beside the people who were being paid to take him out of the...
It never rained but it poured. At one time, she hadn't really understood that expression. Today she did, she could have explained it to whole classes of people. She stood at the counter of the rental company, the one and only company in Lapeer that rented cars. She had been there for an hour and a half and she still wasn't any closer to getting a car. First there had been trouble with the computers. The salesman was an overweight, sweaty man who unsuccessfully tried to cover his balding...
Michelle had been sitting in one of the three tiny, airless, cramped interrogation rooms for the past hour in what would have to be the longest day of her life. The coffee in the stained, chipped mug that she now just played with was nothing but cold sludge clinging to the bottom of the cup. She was tired, hungry and had a headache big enough to sink the Titanic. And they still wouldn't let her go home. She sighed and rubbed the heels of her palms against her dry, irritated eyes, wishing...
She woke to a beam of sunlight tickling her nose. She was warm and comfortable and she moved just enough to get away from that nagging beam. She felt his arm come around her waist, pull her back into his body, and smiled. What a way to wake up. She kept her breathing even, wanting to savor this feeling. She felt safe and loved, needed. Wanted. His hand moved up her stomach and cupped one of her breasts, just stayed there, not moving. "Hmmm, you feel good." His voice was husky and gravelly...
Tonight. He giggled as he put together his kit. This was a special day, a special night. Everything had to be perfect for them. He carefully chose a knife from the array spread on the table in front of him. He checked the edge for sharpness and giggled when it bit into his finger deep enough to draw blood. He stared at the drop of blood, lost in the glossy deep red of it. It was so pretty in the light, much prettier than at night. Then it was too black and deep. Like deep wells that were...
To Michelle, morning had seemed hours ago. Her eyes burned and her head ached but she kept at it, sitting in front of a computer at the task force headquarters. She was inputting what new information they had on the victims, cross referencing for any similarities that might come up, a job Nick had asked her to do. So far they had nothing, but part of police work was getting into the little details. Sometimes the biggest clue they could have would come out of the littlest of details. So she...
She'd never get the sound of that voice out of her head. The way he had said those six little words. The thrill of terror that had streaked through her and left her cold and petrified. She wasn't scared for herself. It was a strange feeling, to be more scared for someone else than for yourself. To be ready to step in and give yourself up for another without that being asked of you. It was what she was ready to do. Because she understood what M had meant. He wanted to win and the game that...
That bitch! Rage poured through him making it hard for him to breath. He tore the binoculars from around his neck and threw them against the tree branch he was sitting on. Even the sound of the lens shattering didn't make him feel better. How dare she do this to him. He thought she understood, thought she knew that she was the prize. And the prize was supposed to stay chaste. It was the way the game was played. He pulled at his hair, feeling as if the rage would make him explode. So she...
Michelle turned into the cool wetness on her face. Her head thumped and thudded in sickening waves that sent nausea boiling and bile into her throat. She wanted to dive back down into the comforting nothingness of unconsciousness. It would be such bliss to let go of the pain and float back down. She tried to push the cloth away but her hands weren't working right. Her eyes were open, mere slits in the glaring light. She heard a snap and then the acrid, burning smell of ammonia flooded her...
"Oh, hell." The room tilted when he tried to sit up. "What the hell did I do?" he muttered. Pain, streaks of shooting pain, surged from his shoulder and his back. He reached up with his right hand and touched his shoulder, feeling a little nausea at the sight of sticky blood coating his fingertips. It came back in a rush. Michelle, being shot. Michelle was gone. He tried to shoot to his feet but fell back, gasping in pain. He had to move. He had to get up and get out of here. He looked...
Roger stood outside the house, watching as the ambulance pulled away, lights going, sirens blaring into the quiet of the night. He gave a silent prayer that Nick would be okay. The he could find Michelle and keep his promise. Damn, how do you come to admire and like someone that you've only known a couple of days. He looked down at the blood covering his hands. Then he felt a hand on his arm. He turned. Stephanie stood there, looking up at him. She was such a tiny thing. No wonder she was...
The wound on her arm, caused by the rope and her twisting was throbbing in a steady rhythm with her head but she managed to find the knots and untie her right wrist. Bending over to reach her ankles shot pain straight to her nervous system and made her dizzier than she already was. She had to stop and rest between efforts taking up precious time. Time she didn't know if they even had to begin with. She had to stop and control her breathing, stop and fight the nausea that kept threatening to...
Stephanie beat him to the front door by inches. And gave him a cocky grin at his amazed grunt at her speed. He was so much fun to surprise. They both raced to the front room. Nick's briefcase was laying on the floor in the middle of the living room. Stephanie grabbed it and opened the front pocket, digging in like she knew exactly where it would be. She pulled out his cell phone. "Got it." "Okay, how did you know he kept it there?" The girl was amazing. He wondered if there was...
What was that noise? His head popped up from the paperwork he had been trying to concentrate on. He hadn't been too successful. His mind was out back, in his lab, with the woman who would be his. He had it planned down to the tiniest detail. Michelle might need some time to come around. He could give that to her. At least a little time. She could have until he killed his wife. Then they would have to leave. If she wasn't with him by then, well, he would miss her. But tomorrow would be a...
Roger rang the doorbell, waited and tried again. Finally he pounded on the door. He could see into the entryway, see up a great staircase that curved towards the second floor. Finally he saw life in the house. A light upstairs turned on and then another in the entryway. He saw a woman approach the door timidly, her hand clutching a blue velour robe tightly to her throat. She was thin, not an appealing thin, but a scrawny one. Her face was all angles and would have been much less scary if she...
Roger skidded to a stop, with Stephanie one step behind. She almost hit him before she could catch her balance. "Drop the guns." He pushed the knife in further. "Do it. NOW!" "Scott, you know I can't do that. Why don't you relax a little on the knife and we can discuss what you want?" Roger's voice was soft toned but not condescending. "Quit with the fucking psychology shit. Drop the damn guns or she dies." "She dies, Scott, you'll be going right after her." Stephanie took...
"Nicky?" "Hmm," he grumbled. His eyelids barely flickered. He could hear noise, beeping, people talking. He just wanted to go back to sleep. It didn't hurt there. "Come on, Nicky." Cool fingers touched his skin. He turned his head into them. He inhaled the scent of cool, sweet sin. Michelle? No. What? "Chelle," he mumbled, trying to wake up. Michelle's heart thumped in her chest, relief taking some of the energy out of her. "Come on baby, wake up. Please wake up." She leaned...
Stephanie hauled the large arrangement of flowers out of her Ford F150 with a sigh. It wasn't as if she didn't have enough to do without running more errands for the Sheriff. But when these came in, she'd volunteered. It was time Nick knew what was what. Still, she couldn't help but think about what her day had been like, even though she'd rather walk on live coals before going through something like that again. She'd spent most of the morning going through files. Not just any files,...
"Okay, I've had enough of both of you." Michelle turned around from where she had been studying the floral arrangement she was trying to do one handed. She'd been staying with her parents for the past six days. Going home and hiding, something she wouldn't usually do but her apartment had been overrun by news people. She couldn't walk out the door without getting trampled by them. They called at all hours, until finally she had turned the ringer off on her phone and let her voice mail...
SO FAR: A jobless and sensitive young man becomes innocently associated with a bubbling woman in her late forties who lives alone on a vineyard out of Auckland, New Zealand. Nash is attracted because she drives a beautifully re-built and upgraded 1939 Chevy pick-up and with ease draws him from his ‘shell’. Hope Honeybun’s interest in young Mr Carson is that he writes a little and seems to have a worldly sense so installs him downstairs as resident author and commissions him to write a novel...