ShadowChancer
Chapter 4
by MistThing, published on February 7, 2001
It was about eight in the morning in New Orleans. Gabriel was back in the States for almost two months now, staying in old beloved St George's. Though Gerde suggested it more then a couple of times, Gabriel still couldn't bring himself to get rid of the rare books store. The place held too many precious memories, and whenever he tossed his black leather jacket on the frayed coat hanger, it always felt like coming home. Business never *really* peaked up in here - so it wasn't the 'profit thing' that mattered, anyway ... Gabriel came to regard the place more as a refuge from his everyday troubles - which now mainly encompassed his Schattenjäger duties at Schloss Ritter, Gerde, and dead-end writing blocks.
On the verge of forty, Gabriel Knight could still effortlessly draw the yearning looks of teenage girls as he rode his Harley around town; or make their hearts pound beneath their small breasts each time his inquisitive gaze met theirs and wandered down their bodies, momentarily lingering ... "You must have made a deal with the devil, Herr knight" - Gerde used to taunt him on her rare, odd joking moods.
The last three years were more or less productive, literary speaking - he published four more books, and the latest one - "Haunted Passion" - actually did quite well in the stores. He got accustomed to being a Schattenjäger, gradually internalizing this darker aspect of his reality; and the title grew to fit him comfortably enough ... Relying mainly on intuition, he left the research to Gerde and she gladly assisted, regarding it as an honorary role. No woman managed to conquer his life, yet ... Gabriel still preferred doing the conquering by himself, and quite frequently, to Gerde's silent disapproval. Nonetheless, she was aware of the fact that something went terribly wrong in Gabriel's life three years ago ... that section of his mind and soul, Gabriel kept a seal on; and Gerde knew better then to ever mention anything remotely connected to Grace Nakimura around Gabriel Knight.
This particular N'Orleans morning found Gabriel sprawled awake in a chair, a non-focused faraway gaze on his face and a cup of coffee in his hand. At about four a.m. an intense feeling of fear - terror, even - woke him up ... He couldn't locate its origin, but the lasting impression it made kept him from going back to sleep. Thinking backwards, the last couple of months were stranger then Gabriel's usual definition of 'strange' ... He felt an unexplained urge to go back to Louisiana, despite the fact that things were going well at Rittersberg and he was in no immediate need of escape. These last few weeks he was often sensing bits and shreds of feelings that he had no clue where they came from. Sometimes it felt like a foreign hand had planted these feelings, like ... randomly turning a radio receiver on and off inside him. However, none of those feelings was as powerful as the one that startled him from his sleep tonight ... Something nasty is definitely comin' my way ... dammit.
Gabriel stared blankly at his empty coffee cup and wondered if it was worth the effort of getting up and getting some more. Still holding the cup, he pushed his other hand into his wild mop of blond hair, futilely trying to put it into some shape. Oh, to hell with the damn coffee and to hell with the damn hair ...
The bookstore's door opened and a young black-haired girl walked in. - "Hi, Cassandra" - snarled Gabriel - "Aren't you late again? Nice miniskirt, by the way."
- "Since when do *you* care which time I'm here?" - Cassandra blinked her painted eyelashes at him - "It took me time stuffin' myself into this mini for ya, y'know."
- "Talkin' about stuffin'" - Gabriel smiled alluringly - "How 'bout ... me pickin' ya up tonight?"
Gabriel hired Cassandra more then a month ago to temporarily run the Rare Books store while he was away. She was one in a line of the constantly changing sales-girls of St. George's. "The St. George's girls", Mosely used to call them when he was still around; of course, he was *supposedly* in Washington DC now, working for - who knows? CIA? NSA? He sure went out of his way to put on a BIG show and make a BIG secret out of it, Gabriel thought with more then a bit of resentment.
Cassandra took her place at the cash register, crossed her legs provocatively and immediately took out of her purse a mirror and a cherry lipstick. Closely observing her mirrored image, she made small, accurate refinements, fully aware of Gabriel's look on her.
Gabriel sighed, amused.
Cassandra now took out her face powder and examined her face again, obviously preparing for an elaborate operation.
- "If you’re puttin' on just a bit more of those, you won't be able to carry the weight" - Gabriel smiled maliciously.
- "Shut up." Cassandra didn't look like she cared.
- "Cassy ... There's somethin' ELSE you should be doin' right now."
- "Yeah? Like what?"
- "Uh ... Like answering the damn phone, Sweety. It's been ringin' for the past fifteen minutes!!!"
- "I'm busy." Again, Cassy didn't look like she cared.
Gabriel made a desperate gesture and dragged himself up to the phone. "Yeah ... Gabriel Knight here."
Silence ... and then ... "Gabriel?" - Said an achingly familiar voice.
Gabriel stood stiffly, holding the receiver, finding it hard to believe. Damn ...
- "Gabriel? Are you there?" - Her tone was anxious and embarrassed.
- "Grace..." - Gabriel didn't say her name for a long time, and now it felt strange and new in his mouth.
- "Gabriel ... Thank God. I thought ... I was afraid you weren't going to speak to me."
- " As far as I can remember, I wasn't the one cuttin' you off, Grace."
Grace clutched her bag and held it close to her, clinging to the pay phone at the bus station. She glanced nervously around. "I ... still can't believe I found you at St. George's. I called you there on a hunch. Gabriel, I ... I need your help."
She waited tensely for his answer, relieved to hear a soft sigh coming from the other side of the line. "Gracie ... You can always come to me for help." Gabriel's voice was somewhat weary.
All the tension, the fear, and the insult at being used like that by a guy who had at least three aliases, found their way to Grace's throat. Pressure built itself behind her eyes and tightened around her nasal bridge, turning into tangible pain. Despite her struggle, tears forced themselves out. "G - Gabriel..." - She held the receiver tightly - "I just had - - - nobody else I could - - - trust - - -"
- "Are ya cryin', Gracie?" - Gabriel closed his eyes concentrating on her voice, on every bit of information he could draw from it. "Where can I find you? Give me your address."
Grace stared around again, looking for imaginary shadows. "I'm not sure it's safe in my apartment - - - I'm even calling you from a pay-phone instead of from my own home."
- "Then, just tell me where."
Grace was thinking. "I'm NOT going back to my place alone. Let's meet at ... Seattle, Lake View Cemetery. Bruce and Brandon Lee's graves. Famous enough, yet secluded..."
Gabriel released a low, long whistle. "Seattle ... damn. Cemetery ... It's a little morbid, Grace."
- "Well, I used it a couple of times with my ... sources."
- "Sources? Are ya ... a reporter or something' ?"
- "Right." - Grace felt uneasy lingering at the same spot too long. "Look, I've got to run. Meet me?"
- "Done." Gabriel heard a soft click and put down the receiver. He couldn't make anything out of what Grace had told him. He just picked up an incredible amount of fear and suspense from her tone. He hoped he would make it on time.
Last update: October 25, 2007
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