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my being. Not only had Nanja redeemed me, but I had redeemed her. We had redeemed each other - mind, body and soul. Now I was truly free; a completely reborn and beautiful creation. As I drove away down the driveway toward the main road, I realized that Nanja was a divinity. Or at least, she had been sent by the divinity to restore me. And by restoring me, she ascended to a higher plain of existence herself. Though I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I would never see her again, I also knew that I would never forget my beautiful young Nanja. She had saved my life in a way no one else ever could have.
I drove back to Seattle and walked into my apartment just as the sun was dropping below the Olympic Mountains across Puget Sound. As I unpacked my bag, I suddenly heard a very peculiar sound: I was singing. I finished unpacking, then picked up the phone and ordered a pizza for dinner. No sooner had I hung from ordering my dinner, the phone rang. I figured that the pizza place had forgotten something about the order, but the caller ID flashed Geralds name and number. I smiled and snapped up the cordless phone.
"Well, Happy New Year, my dear!" I chirped exuberantly.
"Diane, its Gerald." He said very sullenly.
"Yes, I know that." I replied. "How are you?"
"Are you sitting down?" He asked. Something was wrong.
The smile fled from my face and my exuberance quickly faded into something else. Im not sure what, but it wasnt good.
"No." I said cautiously. "Why?"
"You better sit." He said.
My heart began to pound and I slowly sank on to my couch. Somehow I got the feeling that whatever he was about to tell me, it was definitely not Happy New Year
"Sherry and Michelle are dead." Gerald said after a deep exhale.
As the words registered, my heart skipped several beats, my stomach leapt into my throat and I was suddenly gasping for air. At the onset, my hand slapped over my mouth, and my eyes, perhaps only out of natural reflex, immediately welled with tears. After all I been through because of those two, crying over the news of their passing was the last thing I ever expected to do.
"Oh my God. Oh my God!" I gasped into the phone. "What happened?"
Gerald went on to tell me that Sherry and Michelles bodies had been found in Sherrys office at the health club three days after Christmas. I suddenly felt violently ill as the tears were streaming down my cheeks. For an instant, I couldnt believe how emotional and undone I was feeling about this. Gerald went on with even more shocking details: Sherry was found completely naked, lying over her desk on her stomach. There appeared to be no signs of blunt or forced trauma anywhere; but there where several fresh bite marks, hickeys and deep fingernail scratches all over her back, neck and abdomen. Michelle was
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found completely clothed, lying on the floor beside the desk with her skull cracked open and blood all over the floor.
"Oh dear God!" I gasped. "It was a crime of passion, wasnt it?"
"Pretty much." Gerald replied.
He went on to say that as the police searched the scene, they discovered the surveillance camera monitoring the office; the same surveillance camera that had recorded my wild night with Michelle and Reagan last March. Anyway, they soon discovered that the whole incident had been recorded. So when the police viewed the tape, they observed Sherry bent over her desk, being penetrated in the vagina with a strap-on worn by what appeared to be a young Latino woman in her late teens to early twenties.
"Reagan!" I shouted.
"Yeah." Gerald said solemnly.
And besides fucking her with a strap-on, Reagan had also wrapped a belt around Sherrys neck, holding and pulling it tightly backward like the reigns on a horse. Apparently certain people had a fetish for wanting to be strangled during sex; the theory being that cutting off oxygen to the brain greatly intensified their orgasm. Now I was really feeling nauseas! I got up off the couch, opened the balcony door and stepped out into the crisp evening air. The breeze off Puget Sound was refreshing and the sky beyond the Olympic Mountains was purple and soft from what was left of the sunset. The lights of downtown Seattle twinkled like stars, the sky above was clear and the moon was bright. I took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths as I watched the elevators going up and down the Space Needle; all the while listening to Gerald as he continued the bone chilling tale. Apparently, from what the video showed; once Sherry collapsed and Reagan realized she was dead, she frantically made a telephone call from the phone on the desk as she hurriedly got dressed. Then about fifteen minutes later, a young Caucasian woman; also in her late teens or early twenties, with strawberry blonde hair arrived.
"Michelle." I said.
"Uh-huh." Gerald replied.
Reagan and Michelle began to argue, shouting at each other initially, but it quickly escalated into a physical altercation. They struggled with each other roughly all over the room, then suddenly they tripped; and as they fell, Michelles head violently struck a corner of Sherrys desk. My mind quickly flashed back to that wild night in March and I clearly remembered how thick, hard and unforgiving Sherrys desktop was. The coroner determined, Gerald went on, that most likely Michelle was killed instantly. After which, Reagan immediately jumped up and frantically fled the scene. I flopped down on my back on one of the reclining sun chairs on the balcony, laying my arm over my eyes. By now my mind was seizing with overload as it tried to process this horrible chain of events. But unfortunately, the chain hadnt run out of links yet.
"Whats happened to Reagan? I asked. "Has she been arrested?"
Gerald was silent for what seemed like an eternity.
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