Read The Second Coming Online

Authors: J. Fritschi

The Second Coming (40 page)

“Holy shit.”

“I told him that he was right and that I had been avoiding it because I didn’t know what I was supposed to do and I was afraid I would let God down. I asked him to help me; that I was too weak to do it on my own.”

“Good strategy; earn his trust. What did he say?”

“He held the knife to my throat and told me not to be condescending. I could feel the tip of the blade piercing my skin.”

Mike couldn’t believe it. It was almost like the Sterling Killer.

“I told him that God didn’t save us so that he could kill me and that God might have saved him so that he could protect me.” Kate had a distant look in her eyes. “He pulled the knife away from my neck and broke down crying. He admitted that he didn’t know why God saved us and that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He was hoping that I would tell him. I felt so sorry for him. I assured him that we would know when the time came.”

Mike shook his head astonished. “Did he just let you go?”

“No. One of the members was an off duty cop and saw him holding the knife to my neck. He was waiting for a safe opportunity to rescue me when he saw Jimmy breakdown. He opened the passenger door and threw Jimmy to the ground with a gun to his head and handcuffed him. I got out of the car as a couple of police cars and an ambulance arrived. As they were walking Jimmy to the back of the police car he yelled to me to be careful not to let anything happen to me before I fulfilled my destiny.”

“What happened to him?”

“They put him in a mental institute. The pressure of not knowing why God saved him and what he was supposed to do was too much for him. That was when I became interested in psychology. I was fascinated that although we both had the same experience, our minds processed it totally different. I wanted to know why.”

“What happened to Jimmy? Where is he now?”

“I don’t know,” Kate said apprehensively. “I lost track of him when I went to college.”

“Don’t you worry that he’ll come after you again?” Mike asked amazed.

“I don’t think he’s a threat to me. He thinks there is a reason we were saved and that it is our destiny to meet again.”

“What’s Jimmy’s last name,” Mike asked with a protective glare.

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“I just want to find out where he is and what he’s doing.”

Kate smiled and her cheeks went flush. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense. It’s what I do.”

Mike made a mental note of his name and reminded himself to follow up on him in the morning. It was probably nothing, but he was curious what had become of him. He wasn’t about to take any chances on anything happening to Kate.

chapter
63

A
FTER
M
IKE GAVE
Kate a brief tour of his house and she had changed into tight pink Juicy Couture velour sweatpants and a revealing black t-shirt, she and Mike sat in the living room sipping on champagne and chatting like high school sweethearts. The champagne was having its desired effect. They were talking about high school flings when Kate suddenly asked, “Did you ever call Professor Schaefer?”

“I was going to this morning, but then Father John called and Big Pete showed me the picture of his family standing in front of the Oakland Children’s Orphanage and then the body was found…”

“I’m sorry. I forgot you had such a busy day.”

“I’m going to call him first thing in the morning. What makes you so sure he will know what the symbol means?”

“He was my religious studies professor my freshman year at Harvard. He’s also a world renowned Coptic linguist who specializes in religious texts like the Nag Hammadi codices and the Dead Sea Scrolls.”

Mike could tell by the gleam in her eyes that he was more than that. “That’s pretty impressive,” Mike said with a twinge of jealousy swimming in his belly.

Kate could tell by Mike’s discouraged tone that he was skeptical of their relationship and figured she might as well tell him. “We had an affair,” she admitted seductively.

“It’s none of my business,” Mike told her as he raised his hands defensively.

Kate tilted her head with an examining glare. “At first I was infatuated with him because he was an Ivy League professor. I used to make up
questions so I could go see him during his office hours. I could tell he was attracted to me. It made me feel special,” she said with a reflective gaze. “He asked me if I wanted to see some of the ancient writings he had worked on and invited me to his house. He was single and I was naïve. It was terribly exciting. We would drink wine, smoke pot and have intellectual conversations about things I never knew about and the sex was exhilarating.”

Mike felt an uncomfortable arousal warming over him.

“After a while I could tell he was falling in love with me and I didn’t want a serious relationship. I was just having fun.”

The more Kate talked, the more Mike found himself not wanting to be attracted to her, but the more attracted he became. She was a professional at playing mind games.

“What did you do?” Mike asked coolly.

“I thanked him for everything he did for me and told him I would always cherish our time together.”

“That sounds like a load of bullshit. Did he buy it?”

Kate looked at Mike with a disappointed frown. “Thanks a lot. I was trying to let him down easy.”

“What did he say?” Mike’s face was covered with anticipation.

Kate hesitated. “He asked me to make love to him one more time.”

Mike raised an eyebrow understandably. “That’s pathetic.”

“You’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous. I just wish I was your professor.”

“You’re turned on.” Kate realized as she set her champagne flute down, straddled his lap and looked him the eyes. “Do you have any weed?”

“You are manipulative.”

“If by manipulative you mean I get what I want then yes, I am,” she said teasingly as she leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips. “If I get what I want, you’ll get what you want.”

Who was Mike to argue? He excused himself and headed back to his bedroom all the while planning how he was going to retrieve his humidor that he dumped in the trash the night before without her seeing him.

He slipped out the French doors of his bedroom and cut across the back patio under the shadows of the trees. Once on the side yard, he lifted the lid of the garbage can, looked around to make sure no one was watching him and then leaned in and grabbed the laminated box from on top of the steamy
trash. He shook his head with a shameful grimace. He knew he would be back to get it when he dumped it. What would Kate think of him if she saw him scrounging through the garbage? He was going to grab his father’s gun as well, but he couldn’t see it and was under a time crunch.

Carefully, he lowered the lid of the garbage and backtracked through the French doors and into his bathroom where he retrieved a hand towel from the linen closet and wiped the shmegma from the humidor. Mike opened the lid and inspected the contents which had been shuffled. He retrieved a pinner joint and a lighter and returned to the living room where Kate waited sitting yoga style on the couch.

“What took you so long?” She asked eagerly.

“I needed to use the facilities,” Mike replied politely as he sat down next to her.

Kate smiled. “Sorry I asked.”

Mike placed the joint in his mouth and held the steady glowing flame precariously at the tip of the joint without letting it touch the end so that the heat from the flame spontaneously ignited the rolling paper. Mike inhaled gently, careful not to unnecessarily torch the weed. He glanced over at Kate to find her watching with anticipation and as he smiled with an approving raise of his eyebrows, he handed her the joint.

Their fingers touched lightly and exchanged the joint effortlessly. Kate held the joint between her forefinger and thumb not allowing it to touch her supple lips as she inhaled gracefully. As the smoke expanded in his lungs Mike felt the wave of contentment rush to his head. He exhaled slowly, allowing the cannabis to begin working its magic and as he watched Kate hold her breath, he could see the wave of serenity spread across her relaxed face as he nodded his head rhythmically with the guitar strumming in the background. They passed the joint back and forth silently enjoying the music until there was nothing left but a tiny roach, which Mike got up and threw in the fire place.

As he turned around, Kate was moving towards him like a morning sunrise with a look of desire in her hypnotizing eyes. Mike stood aroused as she approached him enticingly and stood before him holding his gaze knowingly. Slowly he reached his arms around her and pulled her even closer. She turned her head and pressed it against his chest as she held him around his waist and began to sway to the music. Mike followed her lead as he closed his eyes and let the music guide them.

When the song was over Kate lifted her head and looked him in the eyes with an appreciative smile.

“Play that song again,” she pleaded innocently.

“You liked that,” he responded agreeably.

“That is my new favorite song,” she admitted tenderly. “I want to dance to it with you all night.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. Mike would have reached into the stereo and pulled the Smashing Pumpkins into his living room for her if he could have. Mike played the song again as they passionately moved in rhythm together until the song ended.

“That is our song. Don’t you ever dance with anyone else to our song.”

Mike shook his head like there wasn’t a question in his mind. “Any time I hear that song, I will think of you.”

“Will you start a fire? I want to make love to you to our song.”

“Help me move the table.”

They slid the table to the side so that there was an open space of carpet at the foot of the couch in front of the brick fire-place. Mike removed the spark screen and made a fire as Kate gathered blankets from the hall closet, laying them out in front of the now crackling fire. She grabbed the pillows from the couch and tossed them onto the blankets.

Mike placed the screen back in front of the fireplace and turned to find Kate lying on the make shift bed on her side with her head propped up by her arm, looking at him invitingly. She reached back and as she pulled the bow from her hair, she shook her head as her brunette tresses illuminated in the orange hue of the fire and spread out magnificently over the pillows. Mike grabbed the remote and put their song on repeat and as the guitars began to strum melodically to the soft shuffle of the drums, Mike lowered himself to his hands and knees so that he was straddling her sensuous, writhing body. He leaned down and they began to kiss teasingly at first and then passionately. Within minutes they were removing each other’s clothes and moving in unison to the music, building like a symphony to the final crescendo.

After the roaring flames of the fire subsided to a flicker that cast dancing shadows on their glowing faces, Mike held Kate tenderly in his arms.

“I feel safe in your arms,” Kate whispered as she stared at the fire. “Do you think he will try to kill me?”

Mike’s face was warm from the glare of the fire as he stared at it contemplatively. “You don’t have to worry,” he assured her quietly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Kate smiled contentedly as she nuzzled against his body and closed her eyes. Mike stroked her silky hair, mesmerized. A fantastic feeling of elation swam through his body. For the first time that he could remember in a long time, he was at peace. It was then, in a moment of clarity, that he realized all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his life making her happy and taking care of her.

But first he had to stop the Sterling Killer before he hurt her or anyone else. He had a renewed focus. When he got to work in the morning he was going to follow up with her professor and find out whatever became of little Jimmy.

chapter
64

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Kate and Mike awoke entangled in the blankets and each other’s bodies on the cold living room floor in front of the now dormant fire. They made love again and then while Kate showered, Mike, who was dressed in boxers, made her an egg white omelet with wheat toast and coffee. Mike was feeling so good he decided to have a cup of coffee himself.

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