Everett Vaughn Hinckley felt adrenaline surge throughout his body as his heart lurched in his chest. Before him stood a woman, her hands almost close enough to touch his chest, her voice like an ice pick in his eardrums. Staggering several steps backwards, he stared at what he thought were white-hot flames shooting out of the devil bitch’s eyes. He never knew his penis had become flaccid or that he peed on the floor right at her feet. Rooted to the spot, mewling like a kitten, the pipe dropped from his numbed fingers.
Everett had never been so terrified in his life. His heart rate hit one hundred seventy beats per minute. He thought it would burst right out if his chest.
And the blood clot lurking in Everett’s left atrium got just the push it needed. It exploded into the left ventricle then shot into his aorta where it created a nice tight plug. Everett screamed and grabbed his chest with both hands, horrendous pain causing his knees to buckle and his eyes to roll up in his head.
He was dead before he hit the floor.
Estella sat up and cradled her injured arm as her eyes searched the room. Mother of God, she had seen the lady with her own two eyes! And the lady pushed the terrible man and he fell and funny noises came out of his mouth. But the lady went away when the man screamed. Estella stared at him on the floor, afraid he was going to get up, maybe hurt her worse. But he didn’t move and no more funny sounds came out of his mouth.
Estella, sweetheart, get up slowly so you don’t make your arm hurt worse, and lie down on the bed. Pull the covers over you to keep warm. The police will be there in a few minutes.
Thrilled that the lady was still in her head, Estella got to her feet, climbed into the bed on the right, and pulled the scratchy bedspread up to her neck. When the police arrived in less than ten minutes, they found her lying on her side with her knees drawn up, hurt and frightened, but alive.
They also found a dead man on the floor.
The camera followed Mariah’s slow, deliberate movements as she approached Frannie, her eyes flat and unreadable. As if she were discussing ten day-old news, Mariah said, “Estella Fuentes is no longer in danger. She will need an ambulance, however.” A smug smile that never lit her eyes slowly formed on her lips. “Mr. Hinckley will need the coroner.”
The autopsy would prove that Everett Vaughn Hinckley died of a myocardial infarction, uncommon but not unheard of in a man only thirty-eight years old. His clogged arteries (caused by high blood pressure, a diet high in saturated fat, and excessive smoking) were a time bomb. The medical examiner stated that he was more than likely dead seconds after the heart attack occurred.
Stunned, Frannie stood before her friend, her mouth ajar as Mariah told her where Estella could be found. Michael left his chair and stood next to her. Frannie knew that Mariah’s voice, so empty, so devoid of emotion, disturbed him as much as it did her. She moved to make the appropriate phone calls.
Mariah’s eyes swiveled in Michael’s direction. Thomas filmed her from the left side as she fleshed out the story. “The animal who abducted Estella was just about to beat her with a metal pipe. His intention was to stop short of killing her so he could rape her while she was still conscious. I was able to ... dissuade him from that course of action.” Michael was treated to that sardonic smile again, the light of immense satisfaction causing her eyes to glow.
She turned and stared into the camera lens and said, “The filthy bastard was so frightened that he had a heart attack and died.”
It was all she intended to say. There was no remorse, no shame. Just a twitch of her shoulders as if Hinckley had been nothing more than a fly she killed with a swatter. She headed for the door and disappeared into the night.
Thomas turned off the camera. The two men stared at each other for a moment. Michael shook his head then followed Mariah out the door. Thomas slipped the camera off his shoulder and onto the table then trotted after them.
She was standing no more than ten feet away, her head tilted back, tossing M&M’s up in the air and catching them in her mouth as they fell. They stood a few feet from her, uncertain what to do.
When the M&M’s were gone, she thrust her hands into her pants pockets and stared at the sky. Without taking her eyes from the stars, Mariah spoke in a voice heavy with irony. “Well, well, well. This is certainly a new wrinkle. There I was, standing in front of him, just like I was physically there. And reading his mind. And seeing him through my eyes, not Estella’s.” She lowered her head, her voice touched with emotions previously missing. “I didn’t consciously intend to do anything to him. Really. I would never kill anyone. Frankly, I wasn’t aware I could, although I was certainly furious enough to want to.
“But he could see me, no doubt about it. I could feel his heart pounding, could hear these ... sounds coming from his throat.”
She gazed into the shadows of the parking lot as though looking for answers. Murmuring to herself, she said, “You know, the kind you make when you’re afraid. Little whimpering sounds. And then he grabbed his chest and his eyes rolled back in his head. He died where he stood.”
Mariah turned toward them, the inscrutable expression gone. She stared at Thomas, her eyes reflecting her inner turmoil, pleading with him to accept this. Harsh with fear, her voice rose. “He had a heart attack. I scared him so badly, his heart just ... it just stopped. Even if it was weak, I gave it just the push it needed. But I didn’t kill him. I swear, I didn’t.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper now. “Even though I just scared him badly and he died, I was happy. Like it was a job well done. I didn’t feel sorry or guilty, or...”
Thomas closed the distance between them and his arms wrapped around her. She cried and clung to him, grateful that the wary look in his eyes was gone, more grateful that after what happened, he still wanted to touch her. His embrace was almost painful, but it was an affirmation that she could still feel.
“Mariah.” Michael’s voice held compassion, something she had come to rely on. She didn’t know to what extent until she heard it and felt his hand stroke her hair. She released her stranglehold on Thomas’ neck and moved apart from him.
“When the Findings began, we never knew what the outcome would be, nor could we have conceived of this gift of healing that you possess. Even though there’s no doubt in my mind where these gifts come from, there are unanswered questions in yours.
“But know this, my dear. Your ‘family’ at Chelsea Heights Community Church loves and supports you, as do your friends.” Michael paused, his smile returned by Thomas. There was something happening between these two that he knew neither was fully aware of: Michael fervently hoped that Thomas would be the strength Mariah needed to get her through the ordeals yet to happen.
“And don’t ever forget this: no matter what’s happened in the past or what will happen in the future, God loves you unconditionally. And He has full knowledge of what you’re doing. If your theory was true and God was not the giver of these gifts, He would still love you as no one else on this earth ever will.”