CHAPTER FOUR

 

Rachel stepped into Becky's room, barely recognizing the small space. Before leaving that morning, their rooms all looked the same. Spartan, tiny, with a bed, one side table, a sink, a small shelf for clothes, and a TV attached high on the wall in the corner. The rooms didn't even have a bathroom. A communal bathroom down the hall served most of the third floor.

Now, Becky's room looked like a small war room. On every wall, she'd tacked up maps. One wall sported maps of the city. Another showed a giant map of the province. The wall opposite the door had a map of the world so large, it covered the window.

Rachel walked closer to the province map. Tiny red dots marked places she assumed were locations people went missing.

"You've redecorated." She turned back to Becky.

"Good thing I did."

"You didn't use pins on those maps, did you? Are we going to need to pay extra for holes in the wall?"

Becky's face changed from excited to exasperated. "The walls are fine. Are you going to let me tell you about the pattern?"

Rachel nodded and took a seat on the only place in the room she could sit. The bed. Sarah pulled her laptop closer and scooted farther back on the bed until she leaned against the headboard.

Becky pointed to the province map. "I had already figured it out but the last name you sent cinched it. Every person who was kidnapped was a teacher. Can you guess what they taught?"

"History." Rachel jumped off the bed and checked the world map. "You checked those disappearances too? All teachers?"

Becky nodded. "Of history or religious studies that focused on history."

"This is good work."

"There's more. They seem to work in the oldest schools in their city. We didn't know this when we went to Leyla's school but Fort York CI is not only the oldest school in the city, it’s also the oldest in the province." She pointed to another area on the city map. "And latest victim works at the second oldest school in the province. I confirmed that name you sent me was reported missing this morning."

"Good to know that giving up some of my power wasn't a waste." Rachel unfurled her wings. "Can you tell me the damage?"

"It's fine," Becky said. "You still have some white left."

Sarah glared at Becky. "What's wrong with you?"

"I didn't use any angel power to do this." Becky swept her arm around the room.

“If it bugs you so much, why don’t you use some power then?” Sarah asked.

"Conserving power is great," Rachel said. "We need to use our skills first, but in some cases, magic is the only way."

“Based on this information I’ve figured out the next likely victim. Eric Stone.”

“Not if we can stop it,” Rachel said. “Why is he a good candidate?”

“He’s also a history teacher. I found social media posts about his love of ancient scrolls. And he works at the third oldest school in the province.”

Out front, Rachel hailed a cab, and they piled in. The school was located a few blocks away from Leyla’s school. All the cab rides, plus tips were costing them a lot of money, but they’d conjured quite a bit since they didn’t know how much they would need. In the grand scheme, Rachel hoped that didn’t interfere with their chances of getting home.

The cab ride was stop-and-go through the streets of Toronto. Rachel's stomach grumbled. In her hurry to get to the police station, she'd forgotten to eat. It wasn't her fault really, since she wasn't used to having to do that every day. Apparently, the meal she'd had last night didn't last long.

"How do they deal with the constant distraction of hunger?"

The cab driver glanced at her in the rear-view mirror with a raised eyebrow.

Sarah pulled out granola bars and bottles of water from her cavernous purse. She handed them out and started munching on a chocolate chip granola bar.

"Chocolate as health food. I like that," Sarah said as she chewed. A few crumbs flew out of her mouth.

"I think we're not supposed to talk when we have food in our mouth." Rachel pointed to the pile of crumbs on Sarah's jeans.

Becky finished her bar and took a chug of water, wiping her mouth with a loud sigh. "That was good. In my research, I discovered that another person was taken from Leyla's school."

"Why didn't the police mention that?" Rachel asked. “Why didn’t Gina say anything when we were there?”

Becky shrugged. "Why didn't the reporters? It was months ago so maybe they didn't think they were connected. But he was also a history teacher."

"And the victim this morning is a history teacher. Whoever is behind it isn't waiting months anymore. There hasn't even been twenty-four hours between the most recent kidnappings. Maybe we can get to Eric before anything happens to him.”

The cab driver turned the radio up a little higher. Rachel looked at him through the rear-view mirror. His face was drawn into a concerned frown. It probably wasn't every day people in the back of the cab discussed kidnappings. Maybe they should cease the discussion until they reached their destination. She wasn't convinced he wouldn't call the police on them to report suspicious activity.

Rachel pulled out her phone to check messages. Not that anyone in the city except Sarah and Becky would call her, but Detective Williams did have her number. It was wishful thinking that he would inform her of any developments in the case. Once she left the station, any power she had over him would have vanished.

In front of the school, the cab driver jerked the car to a stop. Doubtful that he would hang around for them, Rachel paid their fare plus a generous tip, and they headed inside.

The school had a similar appearance to FYCI. Old stone building, tall columns in the front. Numerous added wings over the years to accommodate a growing population.

In the office, they asked the receptionist to see Eric Stone.

"He has today off. Perhaps you can return tomorrow?"

Rachel turned to Becky and Sarah. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "They wouldn't miss him until tomorrow. If the kidnappers aren’t waiting anymore, he could still be a victim today.”

“We might be able to stop it before that happens,” Sarah said.

"We need his address. I’ll distract, and you do what you have to do to get the information," Rachel said to Becky.

"Why is it always me?"

"Because you have more power than we do," Sarah said.

Rachel wondered if Sarah had used any more at all since conjuring the hamburger. Every time angel power was needed, she left it to someone else.

"Fine."

Rachel kept the woman's attention, asking various questions about hobbies she gleaned the woman had based on items on her desk. An angel's best gift was their keen sense of observation. If they honed it enough, they didn't need to use power to read minds. Becky moved away from the woman's line of sight then vanished. She appeared in the back of the room by the windows, at an empty desk.

After a few moments, Becky materialized on the visitor's side of the desk again, gradually coming back into the woman's line of sight.

"Sorry to take up your time. We'll come back later to talk to Eric," Rachel said.

They hurried outside to hail another cab.

***

As the cab turned the corner, Rachel sat up straighter, checking the house numbers. A black late-model sedan idled a few houses away from Eric Stone's residence.

"Stop here," she ordered.

They got out of the cab and paid their fare. Before arriving, she had pulled up Detective Williams’ number on her phone. Her thumb hovered over the green call button. She didn't want to call him if there was nothing amiss, but the car idling, more than a little suspicious, caused concern. If she'd been a betting angel, she would say they arrived just in time.

A crash from Eric's backyard grabbed their attention. They weren't cops. How much trouble would they be in if they charged the house? If they spent the rest of their time in jail, there was no way they could redeem themselves. But what if that's where they had to be in order to fix whatever they'd done wrong? In all her centuries in Heaven, she'd never second-guessed herself. Now she wondered if everything she did was the wrong thing.

How did humans cope with the never-ending second-guessing?

No other cars were on the street. It was an old neighborhood with large trees lined along the road. The houses were old, some in obvious need of repairs. Missing roof shingles, crumbling front steps, and peeling paint spoke to the age of the houses and their owners.

At this time of day, most people would be at work. Only a few driveways had cars parked in them. Blinds and curtains were drawn on every house she inspected. If anything happened to someone on the street, would any of the neighbors notice? Would anyone come to help?

Another crash from the backyard spurred her toward the house.

"Becky, you and Sarah go around that side. I’ll go this way.”

"Shouldn't we call the police?" Becky asked.

"We need to make sure that call is warranted first," Rachel reasoned. "What if he's just having a fight with his wife?"

"And they're throwing things?" Sarah asked. "Then we should call the police."

She shot them both looks that finally spurred them to listen to her instructions. Sarah and Becky veered left, and Rachel ran right.

Rachel reached the backyard first but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Though a little overgrown, it looked like any other backyard. A little small, made smaller by the presence of a shed against the back fence. The sound of fist meeting flesh came from the shed, making her cringe. Now that she experienced pain, she didn't want to feel anymore than she had to. But she couldn't let Eric be taken.

"Stop!" Would another voice halt the attackers?

Instead of silence, another volley of punches brought grunts of pain from someone. A shattering sound of something falling punctuated the hits as they landed.

Sarah and Becky clamored into the overgrown backyard. All three of them burst through the doors of the shed. Two men laid into a third man who lay groaning on the floor.

"Stop!" Rachel said again.

Startled, the men looked up. They sized up the situation in a few seconds and instead of attempting to take everyone on, they shoved past them. Sarah landed on her ass with an oooof sound. Becky was knocked into the fence on the right. Rachel jumped backward out of the way.

Rachel looked at Sarah. "Stay with him. I'm going to see if I can see what direction they go in."

As Rachel ran to the front of the house, she hit the call button on her phone. After a few seconds, Detective Williams' phone rang. She ran down the street after the car as far as she could. It accelerated into a turn, screeching tires as it went. He picked up, barking “Williams” at her.

She rhymed off the address. "You need to get here, now. Two guys just tried to kidnap someone. Send EMTs too.”

His annoyance came through the phone in one sigh. She could picture the grim expression on his face.

"Don't go anywhere," he said.

"We'll be here."

"We? Never mind. I don't want to know. Just don't touch anything."

Rachel ended the call and pocketed her phone.

“Is he angry?” Becky had caught up to her.

“I’d say that’s an understatement.”

A cat dashed out into the street, startled by all the commotion. Becky ran out after the animal and snatched it up before an approaching car could hit it. She hurried back to the curb and set the cat down on the grass. It ran toward bushes in front of the house.

"I think like I finally did something right. I feel like I got a power boost." Becky brushed cat hair off her sleeve.

"Let's get into the house to wait for the police.”

They jogged back to the house to find Sarah inside the kitchen with Eric, dabbing at his face. Once she had the blood cleared away, the damage didn't look as bad as Rachel first feared. It was still a lot of damage, but the bruises would heal and the cuts would knit closed and scab over. Seeing the guy's face, she wondered what happened to Leyla. Had the men beat her, too? Maybe not at the time of the kidnapping but what about later? What the fuck did these guys want?

"Using your God-given talent, Sarah?"

"No. Plain old caring for the ailing." Sarah started to turn but stopped herself. The cardigan covered her wings, and she couldn't risk taking it off to prove she still had the same amount of white.

Rachel pulled Becky into the powder room by the front door. ”Take off your sweater."

“What’s going on?” Sarah had followed them into the bathroom. She dropped bloody cotton pads into the waste basket.

Becky obliged, and anticipating what Rachel would ask next, she unfurled her wings.

"Your white patch is much larger than it was yesterday," Sarah said.

"Because you saved a cat?" Rachel asked.

Becky shrugged. "I imagine it won’t be that easy to get the rest back."