The Crystal Circle: A Paranormal Romance Novel (14 page)

“You’re very tall.
‘And there was not among the children of Israel a goodlier person than he: From his shoulders and upward he was higher than any of the people,’”
she blurted out inadvertently.

“A girl who knows her Bible,” Saul murmured, his gaze momentarily switching from a kind gaze to a lustful one.

“Well, your name is Saul and you are tall. You immediately reminded me of King Saul from the Bible.” She smiled. They sat down on the couch. The magical moment was so vivid it was almost palpable. The sofa sank under their weight, and they were thrown very close. She felt the warmth of his body, his musky smell, and from the corner of her eye, she saw his chest muscles stretching his shirt.

After a few moments of silence, he roused himself and said, “Michal, I’m glad you took the wise decision to invest in King’s Bank.”

“King’s?” she asked in amazement.

“Yes, that’s the name.” He smiled. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thanks.” She took out the cash she’d committed to bring, and Saul issued her a signed note for her deposit.

“You won’t regret the trust you’ve put in us.” He handed her the receipt, settled back, and said, “Tell me, Michal, you strike me as a smart, educated young woman. What brought you to this place?”

“Destiny.” She smiled. “And also... I was tired of living in Tel Aviv. Here, everyone helps each other. Friends.”

“You’re right. I’m also sick of Tel Aviv.”

“You’re from Tel Aviv, Saul? Where from?” she asked with interest.

“Forget it,” he waved his hand dismissively. “You come to Eilat, you leave the past behind. Isn’t that right?” He turned to her and brushed at an imaginary crumb hanging from her hair.

“Yes,” she shuddered. His eyes scorched her. The ‘accidental’ touch and his proximity to her… their knees were practically touching, sent a stream of passion through her veins.

“Michal, I think you can help me out here. We’re new in the camp and, apparently, you know most of the people here. I’d be really happy for you to take part in our wonderful project and, of course, receive adequate compensation.”

“Don’t be so sure. I’m relatively new. What’s the part I’d play, and what’s the compensation?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Saul laughed thickly. “I love it that you’re suspicious. It’s a sign of a healthy, clear mind. I need someone to introduce me to the neighbors in the camp, to come with me to meetings and help me explain the investment system. I need much more than just a pretty face and a model figure.” She blushed at the compliment like a naïve girl. “I need someone who knows how to conduct business and make smiles bloom in the wilderness of the desert. And that’s you, my dear. You must agree that, with Gidi’s beauty and delicacy, we won’t make much progress.” She smiled. “Your profits come out of our profits: 10% of all profits. What d’you say?”

“And how do we supervise the profits? Who runs the accounts?” she asked and pursed her lips determinedly, causing him to expand his smile further.

He looked at her ambiguously and said, “Smart, just like I said. Leave the bookkeeping to me. I’m an expert at that. Ultimately, it’s a matter of trust. You’ll see. One week from today, it’ll pay off.” He ducked his head slightly to penetrate her gaze through the dense tangle of her eyelashes and didn’t let go until she answered.

“Ok-ay.” She wondered at herself. There was something about this man, the poise and dark charm flowing from him, that made her suppress the warning bells that rang incessantly. “We start tomorrow?”

“Perfect! Come over in the early evening. Let’s say around eight,” said Saul. He stood up, smiled broadly, and held out his hand. They shook hands, and she turned to leave. As she reached the door, he called her softly, “Michal,” but she didn’t turn around or answer. He waited a second and then took a big step closer and hugged her tightly from behind. She turned toward him in amazement only to run into his fleshy lips, mesmerizing eyes, and strong arms. He was impossible to resist. The kiss consumed her breath and brought tears to her eyes. She pulled herself forcefully from his grasp and ran away. He watched her for a long while, until she disappeared over the hill.

He smiled, touched his lips, and said, “She’s amazing. A first step toward David. And yet there’s something about her... and now I’m also sure she has a lot to hide. Her name is not Michal.”

Lynn ran toward Dave’s trailer, but began to slow down. Finally, she turned toward the beach and watched the dark waves, the ripples that had persistently hit the coastline for millions of years. In one evening, she’d been kissed by two very different men. Despite yearning for a connection with a man, she knew instinctively that they were both forbidden to her.

Dave was like pure, fresh water to her. His disability didn’t bother her at all, but she felt he was not for her. She wanted to help him, but she wasn’t the right spouse for him. The feeling with him was like that of a close friend, a beloved brother. If they were to become a couple, it meant that when she left, she’d hurt his feelings, crushing someone so dear to her.

In contrast, Saul was like dark waters, like thick, dark wine spreading through her veins, diverting her from sensible judgment. It was much more than his compliments. He manipulated her on dangerous levels. But... he was older, he could be her father, and therefore he also felt forbidden. Besides the passion, which may have derived from the sense of danger about him, she realized that he might be using her.

Then she remembered something that had bothered her the whole while. It was something in the small room, behind the door that was slammed shut as soon as she walked in. Then suddenly, the black metal pipe under the bed appeared clearly in her mind. It was not a pipe, it was the barrel of an M-16 rifle. She’d realized it right at that moment, by the barrel type. Maximum firing range: 1.64 miles. Barrel speed: 0.55 miles per second. Fire rate: up to 800 shots per minute. But the truth was that the effective range was shorter than 0.6 miles. The whole distance across the Uprooted Camp area was no more than 0.6 miles. Everyone here was within Saul and Gidi’s range of fire.

Damn, how did she know all this data? Customer Support workers at Telecall weren’t supposed to know these things! Moreover, as she envisioned the gun, she immediately felt the urge to handle it and fire at a target. She was good at it, she had no doubt. She sighed. The new members of the camp were probably shady types, but she felt no fear. On the contrary, she felt the adrenaline lifting her body to higher levels and knew she wanted to take part in Saul’s project. She didn’t understand what his plans were or how she fit into them, but she trusted her ability to hide information from him just as he was hiding it from her, and eventually she would tilt everything in favor of herself and Dave. She knew that she could protect Dave if he was in actual danger by entering the eye of the storm.

She climbed up the trailer steps, smiled at Dave, and wished him goodnight. He only looked at her and didn’t respond.

Lynn went into her room.

07/01/2013 - Sixteenth day of disappearance

Police officials and their subordinates gathered in the internal conference room: Head of Southern District Police Command, Commander Joshua Galili; Eilat’s Chief of Police, Chief Superintendent Robert Illouz; Deputy Chief of Police, Orly Weiner; Coastguard Patrolman, Sergeant Sam, and Tali the typist. The focus of the meeting was the problem of the underworld taking control of the stalls along the promenade.

Superintendent Illouz opened. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“And lady,” said the gentle voice of the deputy from the back.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the police, if, until now, we were concerned about the activity around the not-so-legitimate promenade stalls, our concern has now become more serious. We have evidence that hostile - not terrorist, but certainly criminal - elements have taken over this market and are putting the citizens of Eilat and the tourists in serious danger every day. So we’ve invited the head of southern command, Chief Superintendent Galili to guide us with his experience and provide us with some important information unknown to us until now. Chief Superintendent Galili…”

Galili, a policeman with a wispy mustache and watery eyes barely visible behind thick lenses of glasses, stood up and began to speak. “Good morning. When the time is right, I’d welcome some further detail about your apparently ‘not-so-legitimate promenade stalls’”

Illouz got up quickly. “Let me explain -”

Galili shushed him with a wave of his hand. “Not now, not now. The crime level in the underworld has increased remarkably throughout the country and unfortunately has also reached your holiday paradise in Eilat. As we all know, we have the names of a few crime lords known to us for drug and people trafficking, protection rackets, arms dealing, and more. You also know we can’t get our hands on these bastards because of the so-called legitimate businesses they use as fronts and because of their teams of well-oiled lawyers. I came over here to help my friend Robert, because he’s encountered a series of very particular characteristics that resemble organized crime. This is a good time, I think, to outline those traits that have attracted your attention, superintendent.” He sat down and turned to the short, thin, Eilat police chief, whose teeth were stained yellow with nicotine.

Illouz seemed very nervous and moved impatiently in his chair which creaked to his every move. He turned to the coastguard patrolman. “Sam, speak up and illuminate us with your words.”

“I’m in charge of the beaches in the city,” said the patrolman. “Occasionally we get traders there who are still drunk or high early in the morning. We don’t make arrests for such nonsense. Sometimes they’re a little beat up, nothing serious - bruises, minor cuts, broken fingers. They always blame their poor luck and can never name who’s to blame. Last week, at three in the morning during a routine night patrol, we found an enormous gathering behind the King Solomon Hotel. When we arrived, they all dispersed in seconds, as if the Earth had swallowed them up, despite the headlights on the patrol car being off.”

Galili sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Who goes out on a raid in a police car? Who?” The officer swallowed and stared at his superior, who gave him a hard look.

“However, on the ground we found a big guy, truly huge, injured and bleeding. He looked like a former fist fighter, but with bracelets and tattoos. He’d only say his name was David. He, of course, ‘did nothing and was jumped by someone.’ Interestingly, he wasn’t a merchant. He wasn’t drunk, and in his pockets we found 20,000 shekels in cash, plus 3000 dollars.”

“A lot of spending money,” Galili muttered.

“Yes,” the patrolman continued. “If someone had wanted to rob him, of course, there wouldn’t have been any money left in his pocket. After much pleading on our part -”

“Plus some serious threats”, the female officer added.

“He confessed that he was merely an investor. He’s investing in a private bank that someone set up here called ‘King’s Bank’. He didn’t want to say his name, wouldn’t provide a description, and only claimed that they’d had a disagreement about money. We got him on his feet, and while we accompanied him to the promenade, two traders from the stalls, who we’re familiar with, of course, passed in front of us.

“When they saw him in front of them, they took to their feet and were gone in seconds. This raises grave concerns,” said the patrolman. “They ran away from him, not us.”

Galili chuckled.

“We needed a little more pressure and a couple of days in jail for David to start singing. He said he, and only he, protects the traders on the promenade from criminals. His services are so good that he’s willing to accept money for it.”

“Does he give out invoices?” Illouz chuckled sarcastically. “A real Robin Hood, what a guy!” There was general laughter and nodding around the room.

“For agreeing to release him, that good soul, he told us that he took the beating from someone named Saul.”

“And why is that of interest to the Chief Superintendent Galili? Sam, start talking, our time’s short,” said Illouz, squinting at his watch.

“In short, David tells us there’s a new business in Eilat. Someone targeting less-than- honorable traders and others who are actually clients of ‘David, the great protector.’ The new guy offers them investment opportunities.”

“Investment?” Everyone’s eyes widened, and they leaned over to hear better.

“He promises them excellent returns, and they invest with him. They wait in line like kids at a candy store!”

“Where do these excellent returns come from?” The typist had stopped recording the meeting and butted in. Everyone looked at her.

Illouz said calmly, “Were you born yesterday? It’s called a ‘sting.’ The money gets passed from one to another until he flees abroad and whoever’s without their money eats their shorts!”

“Okay,” Galili cut in. “Do you have a composite sketch? Evidence? Photos? Anything?”

“No,” replied Sam, “only David’s testimony and the frayed nerves of the traders. Yesterday, a few of them started fighting and two spent the night in the hospital. No one knows why.”

“I understand,” said Galili and thought. “Here are some options...” He pulled out a notebook, wrote headlines, drew circles, and gradually the page filled up to the top with arrows and numbers.

An hour later, the meeting was over. The participants dispersed, and only the computer remained with its flickering screensaver. They were the missing persons pictures, published every week by the Israeli police, a collage of faces of men, women, and young people, at whom no one bothered to look. Two days after publication, they become ‘old missing persons.’

Meanwhile, in the office of Alex Wesser, director of a Private Investigation office in Tel Aviv, a meeting took place that threatened to undermine the professional credibility of the office. A woman in her fifties, her hair pinned up, her lips pursed, and adorned with hot cherry red lipstick, was waving a pile of printed papers and raising her voice. “Two weeks since he disappeared, Mr. Wesser! Two weeks and you sell me this pile of crap! I’m paying you for several detectives who, you claim, are working day and night to unravel the mystery, and what do I get? Nothing!”

“Mrs. Dominguez,” Alex sighed for the hundredth time in the conversation. He stroked his closely cropped beard. “At first you asked us to locate your husband and we located him for you. That was easy. He changed his name to Saul, but didn’t work so awfully hard to stray far from reality. We told you the day after his disappearance that he was in Tel Aviv. He was seen in Nahalat Binyamin. You know he was with an Argentinean woman.”

Orna dismissed the information with a brief wave. “His infidelities are of no interest to me. He’s well known for it, ever since we got married. I’m looking for the money.” Alex sighed again.

“We lost him on the third day, but he was quickly found in Eilat. We have a guy in Eilat, at a permanent branch of the office. This is the most common haven for cheating husbands, traitors, people who want to escape their business, family, whatever. Since then we’ve been sitting on his tail. It’s not easy. He ganged up with a group of criminals, and they’re very suspicious.”

“I told you to follow the girl who disappeared with him. Michal, she’s the key to the money. I’m sure he sent her to organize the financial transfers while he’s out playing in Eilat. She’s a bank clerk and knows about these things. What happened to her?”

“Michal... yes. Well, we also located her in Eilat. To us, she seems innocent and not involved at all, Mrs. Dominguez. At least not in the romantic sense.”

“And on what basis did you decide that so quickly?”

“She lives in a trailer with some guy, a disabled war veteran. Lovebirds. Selling cutlets.”

“But she has the money, Alex. She’s the front, and she’s getting a cut!”

“Look, Mrs. Dominguez,” Alex sighed, “we just know the facts, and there’s no proof of what you suggest here. She’s not spending cash, she’s not walking into banks, or flying abroad at all. In contrast, Raul actually seems very generous.” Alex chuckled to himself. The laughter stuck in his throat when he met with Orna’s petrifying look. “I mean, he disperses funds to all sorts of people, not all of them on the right side of the law. He’s simply spreading cash systematically.”

She looked again at the blurry images spread before her. There was no avoiding it. Despite the distance from which the pictures were taken, Raul was clearly pictured handing money to people. She clenched her hands so hard that her nails left a red mark on her hands.

“He’s out of his mind! Burning the money he promised me...” she said under her breath and stood up. “Give me his address. I’m going to Eilat now.”

“We lost him again.”

“What!” She moved closer to him.

“For the past three days, my trackers have been unable to find him. He’s just gone.”

Orna started screaming. She stalked out of his office, and her door-slam shook all the windows on the floor.

Alex went after her. “He’ll pop up again, Mrs. Dominguez. He’ll show!”

She snorted and ripped up the contract in her hands. Fragments of the contract swirled around and covered the floor of the corridor leading to his office. Alex fell silent.