The Crystal Circle: A Paranormal Romance Novel (2 page)

He looked at her for a moment, appraising her body and imagining the feel of her curls in his hands, and then sighed and left.

First, she had to sit down somewhere, get some coffee, and figure out her next steps. She crossed the road and went to the nearest café. Thirty seconds later, the young, curly-haired man who’d been sitting near her on the bus crossed the road as well. She looked at him briefly, but he bowed his head and continued on up the street.

Lynn sat and thought with a cup of coffee and a croissant before her. She realized she had to find a place to stay. Eilat was a lovely resort city built around an ocean bay with many hotels around, but she figured she wouldn’t be able to afford a hotel for more than a night or two. The amount of cash she had was small and she couldn’t remember her account number, or what bank she belonged to.

No!
She suddenly became frightened.
That’s how they’ll track me down. Track me down... well, who’ll come looking for me? Lucky I left the credit card in Tel Aviv! That way, there’s no temptation to spend what I don’t have. It’s actually very simple; I have to find a job.

“Should I bring your check?” asked the smiling waiter, nipping her inner dialogue in the bud.

“Yes,” she nodded, but then stopped him. “Wait a minute - are you hiring right now?”

The guy sized her up for a second and then moved his hands apologetically. “Sorry, not right now.”

She was too old, she knew immediately. They’d be looking for eighteen or twenty- year-old girls. She sighed, paid, and counted her remaining cash.

“Say, you know where I could find a one-or two-star hotel around here?”

The waiter raised his head and nodded to a building behind the shopping center where she sat. “There, the Flamingo. I think it’s nice and inexpensive.”

Lynn stood up and stretched her dress on her body. The sun blazed in the sky. She crossed the road and hurried to the recommended hotel. The lobby was dim and the musty smell mixed with tobacco stuck to the brown leather armchairs that had been worn-out since the swinging seventies. The receptionist welcomed Lynn as she entered. He was, apparently, also the owner, a sweaty little man wearing a blue shirt, a cap on his head, and a toothpick stuck between his teeth. His gaze was thorny. He said the price was 30 dollars per night and that she had to pay up front. She paid.

“Do you have a passport or ID?”

Lynn checked her purse, frowned and shrugged. “Oh... I’m sorry, it’s deep in the suitcase. I’ll unpack it and bring it over.”

“Okay,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Ly... mmm... Michal. Michal Rosner.” It was the only name that came to her mind. It would be foolish to give out Lynn as her name.
Remember, a clean slate... clean.

In her little room, she opened the window. The arid Edom Mountains could be seen through the streets, and a very small, uninviting pool shimmered below. When the air in the room started heating up, she closed the window. She scattered the contents of the small suitcase on the bed: hairbrush, some flashy summer dresses, and an elegant summer suit that didn’t seem to belong in this resort town. She picked up her purse and looked around the room. She couldn’t see an appropriate place to hide her valuables. She checked the bathroom. Behind the old, slightly cracked mirror was a small space, a little less than a third of an inch deep. She tucked her wallet in deep behind the mirror.

“I need to find a job quickly,” she sighed, looking at the cream-colored suit with leopard print lapels (that leopard print!). It was very tight in the waist and in the back.
It’s tight, but still looks good!
she thought. She washed her curly hair, put on a light lipstick and left the room. She waited for the man at the reception desk to be busy with other guests and slipped out of the hotel.

I have the confidence and the ability to talk to people, I speak three languages - Hebrew, English, and my French isn’t so bad – isn’t that enough?

She turned toward a tall imposing hotel overlooking the bay, just around the corner. A tall young woman, she stepped into the luxurious, five-star, Italian-style hotel with great confidence, her brown curls down to her shoulders and her emerald eyes shielded by dark lashes. Her fleshy lips slightly parted in a small smile as she turned to the receptionist.

“Hello, Rafael,” she said with a broad smile, as if they were old acquaintances, after briefly reading his name badge.

“Hello,” Rafael said hesitantly. He quickly scanned her striking figure and took in the broad belt cinched around her slender waist. He looked up at her smiling face and asked, “Do we... know each other?”

“No. Not yet. Perhaps later we will. I’m looking for a job in your hotel. It seems to me that I’d be perfectly suited to be a shift manager, maybe, or a receptionist. I can also work night shifts.”

“Uh... look, Ma’am...”

“Michal. Michal Rosner.”

“Yes, Michal. I’m not in Human Resources. Just leave your details with me, and I’ll forward them to the director of the department, Malka.”

“No problem, Rafael I speak quite a few languages and -”

“Yes,” he interrupted her abruptly. “Write it all down here.” He gave her a sheet of paper and immediately went to attend to a couple of older tourists who seemed to have lost their room key.

She wrote down the name she had chosen, Michal Rosner, providing the name of the hotel where she was staying and her room number. This dialogue was repeated in every hotel she turned to, even the wretched little ones. After fifteen hotels, Lynn went to the beach. It was already evening and the Edom Mountains were lit up an amazing crimson red.

The situation wasn’t easy; it was more difficult than she had expected.
Maybe I should think outside the box.
She stood on the boardwalk. The sun was setting behind the mountains at her back, as it always had, painting not only the mountain peaks of the Gulf of Jordan, but also the blue water of Eilat’s sea, which became red and pink and purple, changing appearance by the minute. It was a sight to behold. Oh, of course, this was why it was called the ‘Red Sea.’

She didn’t dare sit on the rocks for fear of dirtying her only smart suit. Hordes of tourists lounged on the beach, their sunshades closing one after the other, all keeping relatively quiet, respectful of the glory and splendor of the magnificent sunset.

When she climbed up from the beach, it was getting dark, and the stalls along the boardwalk were in the throes of sales and business. Each stall had its own loud music and sold Chinese hats, shirts, glasses… an endless chain of cheap temptation illuminated with fluorescent lights. The selling and marketing was conducted by shouting, “Ma’am, you won’t find such merchandise anywhere, believe me, lady, not even in Tel Aviv!”

“Ma’am” An especially cocky salesman grabbed her arm. “You have to see this necklace. It’s perfect for you. Just perfect!” he bellowed in her ear.

She escaped his grip with one strong move, her face flushed, and hissed, “Leave me alone, loser! Imbecile!”

He looked at her in disbelief and began to roar with laughter. Lynn didn’t have the time to digest the violence in her voice, because now she was approached by a large man.

“What did you call my guy? You freak!” The big guy looked at her with a piercing gaze and she took off her shoes and started running. She was sweating, despite the dryness of the desert prevailing in Eilat. When she got close to her hotel, she calmed down, bought a bottle of juice, bread and some cheese at the convenience store in the gas station, and went up to her room. A new clerk was standing at the counter. It must be the night shift. She ate the poor meal in her room, and then stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She looked at her hair, at the tiny wrinkles that had sprung up around her eyes, and her exhausted smile.

She began speaking loudly to her reflection. “Listen carefully, Lynn. You’re good with languages. You look good and speak nicely. You have a lot of self-confidence, courage, and a sense of adventure. Where has this taken you so far?” She looked at her reflection, but it didn’t answer. “You don’t have any special connections in Tel Aviv, right? You had a job you didn’t like, an apartment you didn’t like, and a life you had to escape from, damn it!”

She lowered her eyes and began to whisper. “And... you have a desperate urge to succeed here, in this remote place at the end of the state. You came here to start a new life, and maybe... there aren’t any coincidences. There’s something in store for you here. So now you’re Michal - or Lynn - what does it matter?” She gazed at the jacket with the leopard print lapels lying on the bed, and then looked at the white sandals. They seemed very foreign and strange. She lifted her gaze again to the mirror. “What, haven’t you noticed that your memory’s random, fragmented and unrelated to your feelings? You remember the guy you went out with a few months ago, but your heart doesn’t ache. It’s like he was a person you heard about on the news. You left work and you can’t even remember the names of the girls who worked the shifts with you. Do you even remember your parents, Lynn?” She tried hard to think, but all that came to her mind were a couple of vague pictures as she passed the dining room on her way out of her apartment. “Even if you are Lynn, and even if... you... maybe are not Lynn, and you’re just developing Alzheimer’s at a young age, it doesn’t matter! Intuitions work. Go with your heart, because you can’t count on your brain. It plays tricks on you. It’ll be good. I feel it and I’m telling you! You’re not alone.”

She rolled over on the bed and clenched her fists. Eilat was an ideal city for her plan. Detached from Israel and crowded with tourists, maybe someone would take her to another world, overseas. She thought she might even start to like the heat, to like the landscape that combined the sea and the desert, too.

“A change of place, a change of luck,” she decided. The mere fact that she got to play the part of someone she’d invented and live an unknown future excited her very much. She poured herself some orange juice, raised the glass in front of the mirror

and said, “Lynn - cheers!”

She turned on the TV. An old James Bond movie was playing. Bond hung from a rope out the window, always elegant in his suit, and as he descended from the fortress, two snipers took their positions on the roof and dear James appeared between their sights. Lynn tensed up and watched intently. One of the snipers fired, but missed 007. Lynn shook her head.
He should have closed his other eye, she thought, and the distance isn’t suitable for that type of gun. I can’t believe it! How come other viewers don’t realize it? Lucky for Bond that he has such amateur enemies.

Her throat tightened.
I know about firearms... do I work as a killer? A hit woman between one shift at work and the next? God forbid!
She smiled, closed her eyes, and sighed. “I may have holes in my memory... but is a murderer hiding within me?” She began to giggle, she was a woman bored with her life fantasizing about suspense movies. In bed, one last thought flashed through her mind just before falling asleep:
David. I have to find David.

The Crystal Circle Laws

1. Length of the meeting: It could take a few minutes or a few days. In the external reality, no more than 1.2 seconds will pass.
   
2. Permitted behavior: Participants at the meeting will call upon their purest essence and express unconditional love and understanding for the soul’s plan of each participant.
   
3. Challenges: Any participant undergoing a challenging experience, who needs assistance or advice from others, will be welcomed. The goal: The objective is to experience as many shades of human existence as possible. The challenge will be received with love on the part of the challenger as well.
   

06/16/2013 – First day of disappearance

The sun peeked through the curtain and warmed his face. He silenced the alarm and got out of bed quickly to wake the girls for school and kindergarten. He smiled. The 10th anniversary party for the bank’s Migdal Haemek branch, held the day before in Tel Aviv, had been so glamorous it was practically ‘High-Society’. Michal, the client department manager, had worked hard on it. She’d taken on the party project and had succeeded beyond all expectations. Preparations for the event had caused a lot of friction between them, at the expense of their relationship at home. When he’d had to go abroad for work, there had been also frequent complaints over the phone: His parents didn’t help with the children, and her parents... but the result was amazing. Michal, his domesticated tigress, had become a woman of the world - sophisticated, cunning, and appealing with a beauty and a mystery that radiated out to her surroundings.

The day of the event had begun with a banking conference in the convention center on the beach in Tel Aviv. Afterward, they had eaten lunch, and when the family members arrived from Migdal Haemek, they’d sat down to watch a presentation created by Michal. Later, dozens of the bank’s employees and their families were all invited for a sumptuous dinner on the roof of the Carlton Hotel, overlooking a magnificent sunset. At the cocktail reception held at the end of the speeches, Michal had been surrounded by many men, and the branch manager had complimented her on her efforts. It was very difficult for Joe to accept the branch manager’s invitation to let Michal and the rest of the staff spend the night in the hotel and enjoy a cruise the following day off the coast of Tel Aviv – an invitation he had heard about only three days before and that wasn’t extended to family members.

“They deserve a night at the hotel,” said the manager to the family members. “After weeks of intensive effort, and without neglecting any of the branch’s activities, they outdid themselves. We’ll celebrate with some friends in the banking world of Tel Aviv. And you, our dear families, shall appreciate us from afar. Let our dedicated employees enjoy one night of adequate compensation.” For Joe, the entire idea of Tel Avivian fame seemed farfetched and did not justify the absence of his wife, even for a single night. However, he returned with the other family members of the bank’s employees to Migdal Haemek while the bankers remained in Tel Aviv.

While quickly preparing peanut butter sandwiches for school and gently brushing the sleep from his daughters’ eyes, Joe came to a decision: they would go on a vacation, just he and Michal. For several years now, ever since Eden was born, there’d been no time reserved just for them. Barcelona? Crete? A beautiful spot on the beach... Joe helped Eden dress while Gaya grumbled, “You don’t know how to comb my hair like Mom does… these aren’t the clothes Mom would’ve chosen... When’s Mom coming?” Joe calmed Gaya and promised her that her mother should be home by the afternoon.

“They had to stay in Tel Aviv, the entire group. Don’t worry.” Little Eden just gazed at him with her big worried eyes and said nothing. Joe threw all the clothes he could find into the washing machine and sat down in front of the computer. He didn’t expect Michal home before three in the afternoon, but tried calling her cell phone several times. Her number wasn’t available. He left her a note on the kitchen counter:
“I’ve gone to some meetings in the city. I’ll be back by the evening. You were wonderful last night! You simply amazed everybody! Do laundry. Prepare cutlets for tomorrow. I’d like a salad and spaghetti for dinner. Gaya had a little headache this morning.”

At ten past four, his cell phone rang. He was so engrossed in his report that was due the next day for the European operator of his agents, that he’d lost track of time.

The call came from his younger daughter’s kindergarten. “Hello, Joe? Look, Michal’s not answering her phone, and we need to close up. Eden’s here alone. Can you pick her up?”

Joe’s eyes opened wide. “I’ll get one of my parents to come for her right away,” he said quickly. Fortunately, his father was home at that time.

“Dad, can you do me a favor? Eden needs picking up from kindergarten, she’s crying… I know you’re not used to doing it, but you’re the only ones living close to the kindergarten and Michal’s away. Take her to your place and I’ll come and fetch her later on.”

Packing his briefcase quickly, he called Michal again, but, once again, there was no answer. It seemed strange; maybe the device was stolen or lost. Michal was meticulous and never lost anything. If anything, she always made fun of him for being the scatterbrained one, always forgetting and losing things. Joseph the Dreamer, she called him. As he got in the car, Gaya called him.

“Dad, Mom didn’t leave any cutlets in the fridge and I’m hungry!”

“I’ll be right there,” he said and hung up. His brain immediately activated Plan B, the plan for emergencies. What had happened to Michal? It wasn’t like her... this was a challenging situation. True, they were out of cutlets. Michal’s cutlets were a known delicacy, as well as all of the dishes she cooked for the members of the household. You’d be fortunate to happen by the house at lunchtime. But over the past week, in fact the past two weeks, she’d been very busy preparing for the 10th anniversary celebration, and she’d had no time left to take care of the house.

“Something’s not right. This isn’t like Michal, and to be perfectly honest, this isn’t going to work for me. With all due respect she has to remember that the house and the family always, but always, come first!” he muttered.

Back at home, he prepared a sandwich for Gaya. She wrinkled her snub nose and hurried to mention that it wasn’t what Mommy would make. Then he hurried to pick up little Eden from his father’s, explaining that there was some problem at the bank and that Michal would be back shortly.

He called the bank’s credit department manager. “Hello, Tommy, Joe here - Michal’s husband. Is everyone back from Tel Aviv yet? Michal’s not answering her phone.”

Tommy laughed. “Why are you worried, Joe? Some of them came back in my car and some returned independently. There wasn’t any organized transportation.”

“I’m not worried, it’s just that it’s not like her to be late and not let me know about it.”

“Maybe some of them went shopping in the big city. Don’t worry… Michal probably just went to buy a couple of grands worth of fur coats!” Joe said nothing as Tommy roared with laughter. “You have a topnotch woman, Joe. Topnotch! She’s bound to be back within the hour. It’ll be okay. Bye.”

Joe called Raul, the branch manager, at his house. His wife, Orna, answered. “No, Raul hasn’t returned from Tel Aviv yet. What? Neither has Michal? Well, they probably set off with another group and they’ll be back any minute. Goodbye.”

Orna was not as complacent as she had sounded to Joe. After slamming down the phone, she reddened and sat down on the couch, panting. Was this a new affair? It had taken her a long time to recover from the episode with the little clerk in the bank. Joe didn’t know, but if his wife, this Michal, had managed to entice Raul, Orna would never forgive her. Not this time. Michal’s life would become hard and bitter. Orna would see to it personally, and Raul would pay for it as well - dearly!

Evening fell on Migdal Haemek. Eden cried that she wanted her mommy, and Joe calmed her with the story of the lion and strawberry until she fell asleep. He had more trouble with Gaya. How could he explain to a twelve-year-old girl something he couldn’t figure out for himself?

“She must have gone shopping in the Azrieli Mall,” he tried.

“So why didn’t she take me with her? We agreed to go there on the summer break together!” Gaya slammed her bedroom door with force, and he let her be.

For about an hour, he systematically called each employee of the bank, and heard that they’d all got home. Everyone, except Raul and Michal. The night before, they had gone to a corner pub in Florentine, the most fashionable neighborhood in South Tel Aviv, where they had gotten drunk and sang songs. No one remembered exactly when Michal parted from the group, but, in the end, they had all returned to the hotel. Some had just gone on the cruise and then returned home. Raul and Michal? Impossible!

Joe was furious just thinking about it. It didn’t seem likely. Michal always said she was disgusted with Raul’s flirtatious attitude toward the clerks in the office, the excessive amounts of aftershave he wore, and the dandified outfits he wore to work every day. She said he had an incredible number of matching sets - jackets and shirts - most of them imported.

Raul was fifty-nine, a tall, thickset man, not at all attractive to Joe’s taste. “But you never know with women,” he muttered bitterly. They may be easily impressed by superficial, external characteristics like bulky muscles popping from beneath undersized shirts. Although Raul looked a little younger than his age, Joe didn’t believe Michal could be attracted to such a person. He began delving into his dialogues with Michal in recent months, their hugs, their sexual relations, but couldn’t think of anything that could justify such a drastic move. But... the fact was that they were both absent - Raul... and his Michal.

At nine o’clock he decided to call the hotel. The room reserved under the name of Mrs. Michal Rafael was booked until that morning, but she hadn’t spent the night there. In fact, she’d never even checked into the hotel. Joe slammed down the phone, almost tearing it off the wall, but didn’t dare call Raul’s wife again.

How dare Michal leave her two poor girls, who missed her and loved her dearly? Joe slammed his fist into the pillow as hard as he could. To his astonishment, he began to weep. In all the weeks and months of spending his nights alone in foreign hotel rooms around the world, he’d never felt as alone and abandoned as he did tonight. At ten o’clock, he called the police. He explained that the last time Michal had been seen was at three in the morning in Tel Aviv, and, since then, her whereabouts were unknown.

“Sir,” said the on-duty dispatcher, “at least twenty-four hours must pass before we launch an investigation to clarify the circumstances of the disappearance. It’s only been nineteen hours. Come in to the station house tomorrow morning, and we’ll take care of you,” the dispatcher promised.

06/17/2013 – Second day of disappearance

At eight-thirty in the morning, after Joe had made sandwiches, taken the girls to school and kindergarten, reassured his parents and Michal’s parents, and canceled his appointments for the day, he went to the police station in Migdal Haemek. He rubbed his red eyes. Coffee would certainly help. His sleepless night, together with the unbelievable amount of chores around the house, had left him broken and shattered. He walked into the police station with long, heavy steps. The station house had the feel of a shadowy Irish pub from the seventies and smelled accordingly. The dark wood counters, the national flag, and the picture of the president didn’t evoke in him the reverence intended by government and law institutions. Joe placed his ID card on the dispatcher’s desk and looked at him, clenching his face. He tried to penetrate the dispatcher’s indifferent gaze, hidden behind his thick glasses.

“I want to report a missing person.”

“Yes. Who’s missing?” the dispatcher asked, lifting his gaze from his notes for a moment.

“My wife.”

“How long has she been missing?”

“She was last seen in Tel Aviv at two o’clock in the morning, in the Florentine pub,” he said quickly, “yesterday. I mean, on the morning of the sixteenth...”

“That’s where you last saw her, and then you suddenly lost her?”

“Not me... I wasn’t there. She was with her friends.” The dispatcher took off his glasses and looked at him, a hint of a smile drawing up the hairs of his mustache.

“Her friends. I understand. And where were you?”

“I was at home with our girls.”

“Uh-huh.” The dispatcher leaned back and rubbed his hands together. His smile widened slightly. The stone lying in Joe’s stomach climbed up to his chest. He took a deep breath and felt closer than ever to bursting. He looked around and saw two men approaching the counter.

“It’s urgent. She’s missing. Where can we talk?”

“An investigating officer will be right with you. It’ll be about forty minutes. He’s in the middle of an important investigation. Meanwhile, sit back here and see if you can call any of her friends from Tel Aviv or elsewhere in the country. Perhaps you had a fight and forgot about it?”

Joe slammed his fist on the counter. It hurt. “I’m an agent of the security forces. I demand to see an investigator immediately!” The on-duty dispatcher was unmoved. He was accustomed to citizens slamming their fists in despair. In fact, the stain on the wooden counter had come about precisely from those occasions.

“No problem. Sit down, relax, and have a glass of water.” He pointed at the cooler at the corner of the room. “They’ll be right with you.”