Crone's Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (21 page)

“Yeah.” He nodded vigorously. “And that
freaked me out then too.”

While I had my arm extended, Constance
stepped past Ben and filled my hand with a fresh bottle of the
sports drink.

“Thanks,” I acknowledged, then turned back to
my friend and shrugged. “Sorry about that.” My apology was more out
of reflex than any kind of heartfelt remorse.

“Well, what I’m really talkin’ about is
the friggin’ la-la shit flyin’ around here.” He thrust the index
finger of his free hand at himself. “I mean
I
felt it. Me.”

“And your point?” Felicity asked, her voice a
tired mumble. She was resting her head on the table, using her
crossed arms as a makeshift pillow, with her face pointed toward
the back wall. She didn’t even bother to lift her head when she
spoke.

“Well excuse me, ‘Samantha’,” he retorted,
making a sarcastic reference to the old TV sitcom. “Maybe this is
old hat for you two, but I damn near got electrocuted by your happy
asses.”

“Do I look…” Felicity began to reply, but the
rest of the sentence was an unintelligible murmur.

“What?” Ben asked.

Felicity turned her head and pressed the
other cheek against her arms so that she was facing him even though
her eyes remained shut. Then, still with a tired mumble, she
repeated, “Samantha was blonde. Do I look blonde to you?”

“Dammit, Felicity!” he barked. “This is
serious!”

“I think everybody is aware of that,”
Constance interjected. “But just look at them, Ben. They’re both
exhausted. You aren’t going to get anywhere by arguing.”

My friend ignored her observation and pressed
on, aiming his query at Felicity. “So after all this shit, do you
at least remember somethin’?”

“Aye, I remember hurting,” she muttered. “I
remember that somebody hurt me.”

“That doesn’t get us anywhere now does it?”
he snapped.

“Give her a break, Ben,” I made a tired
appeal.

“Hey,” he replied in an annoyed tone. “You’re
the one that absolutely had to do this right now, so don’t come
down on me for askin’ a question.”

“I’m not coming down on you, Ben,” I replied.
“I’m just saying lighten up a bit.”

“I’m just doin’ my job.”

“Back off, Storm,” Constance told him. “Give
her some time.”

Ben shifted a hard glare quickly onto Agent
Mandalay and then snarled, “Yeah, well maybe I just haven’t got as
much patience as you.”

“Chill out, Storm,” she returned, shooting
him a puzzled expression. “This hasn’t been easy on any of us,
least of all Felicity and Rowan.”

Ben started to reply, a wave of anger
flooding his features as his lips parted but then caught himself
before any words escaped. He closed his mouth and stood staring at
her as he worked his jaw, then without saying anything simply
stalked through the kitchen and out the back door, giving it a
healthy slam in his wake.

“Damn,” Mandalay muttered as she looked after
him and then turned to me. “You say you know what’s eating
him?”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged. “But I can’t talk
about it, Constance.”

“Well he needs to get a handle on it,” she
said. “He’s not stable.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Just an FYI,” she continued. “Jurisdiction
for this case is technically still in the hands of the local
authorities, and once we prove that this is a murder, the lines are
going to get blurred even more. The Bureau will stay involved
because of the circumstances, but Albright is going to step up,
I’ll guarantee it. When she does, I’m not going to be able to cover
for him anymore.”

“Do you think she’ll kick him off the Major
Case Squad again?”

“Maybe not. It really depends on the need for
manpower, would be my guess. With the victim being the Mayor’s
daughter, you can bet everyone is going to be pulling duty. A lot
of it is going to depend on him.”

“Maybe he can redeem himself in her eyes
then. He’s a good cop, Constance.”

“I know he is, Rowan. That’s the problem.
That’s what I mean when I say it depends on him. If he keeps acting
like he did just now and doesn’t get some help, getting kicked off
the MCS will be the least of his worries because he’ll probably
lose his badge altogether.”

That was something I already suspected but
really didn’t want to hear.

“Helen is still out there, isn’t she?” I
asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” she replied, craning her neck to peer
out through the atrium. “I think she’s been through about half a
pack by now.”

“Let him talk with her. I think she knows
what’s going on with him. She’ll get him back on track.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“I hope you’re right, Rowan.”

“Me too.”

* * * * *

“Listen, Row…” Ben began and then paused.

The forlorn chirp of a single cricket sounded
in the wake of his abandoned sentence and then fell silent as well.
We were standing at the railing of the deck, looking out into the
darkened backyard. The dogs were snuffling about on the lawn,
disappearing into the shadows and then reappearing as they wandered
into the dim furthest reaches of the outdoor lights.

We had spent many a night out here throughout
the course of our friendship. Some of them good and some of them
we’d both rather forget. Some simply passing time with a cigar and
a drink. Others, pondering horrors I had channeled and trying to
get a handle on a case.

Once again, here we were, and I think we both
knew that this particular night would be one of those we’d rather
forget but simply wouldn’t be able to help but remember in
painfully graphic detail.

It was pushing three in the morning. I had
put Felicity to bed, and after Helen checked in on her, both she
and Constance left. There didn’t seem to be much else we could do
for the time being, and everyone desperately needed some rest.

The carbs in the sports drink had
kicked in, giving me not exactly a second wind, but enough energy
to at least get up and move. I had pulled down a pair of tumblers
and filled them each with ice and a healthy measure of
Royal Salute
before heading out the
back door to check on my brooding friend.

He had simply shot a quick glance at me when
I sat the drink on the railing next to him but remained silent. It
had taken all of five minutes before he finally spoke.

“It’s okay,” I told him.

“No it isn’t,” he replied, shaking his head.
“I acted like a fuckin’ asshole in there.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You did.”

“You don’t have to agree with me so fast,
Kemosabe,” he offered with a slight grin.

“It’s okay,” I replied. “You definitely acted
like an ass. But, I think I’ve probably done the same to you.”

“Yeah, you have.” His grin spread a little
wider. “So, how’s Firehair?”

“She’s okay,” I replied, and then took a sip
of my drink. “She crashed awhile ago.”

“I guess I’ll apologize to her later.”

“It’s all good. She’s got pretty thick
skin.”

“Yeah, she’s a tough one,” he agreed. “That’s
a fact.”

My friend looked down at the drink I had
poured for him then picked it up and twisted the tumbler back and
forth in front of his face. After a moment, he set it back down,
this time a full arms length away.

“Thanks, but that’s prob’ly the last thing I
need right now.”

“No problem. I understand,” I returned,
paused, then asked, “So what now?”

He huffed out a heavy breath. “We keep our
mouths shut and hope for a break.”

“Not much of a plan,” I observed.

“Tell me about it,” he replied. “But there’s
no way we can confirm she’s dead, so runnin’ off at the mouth’ll
just cause problems.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

We grew quiet again, listening to the ambient
sounds of the night. Tires squealed in the distance, and the sound
of a roaring engine droned along behind it, eventually fading to
nothingness.

“So, where are you staying?” I finally
asked.

“Whaddaya mean?” he asked, feigning
ignorance.

“We didn’t get a chance to talk earlier,
Ben,” I explained. “I know about you and Allison.”

He rubbed his hand across the lower half of
his face and sighed heavily through his nose. “How’d ya find out?”
he asked. “I run off at the mouth while I was trashed?”

“Not exactly,” I replied. “When you passed
out, I called your house. I didn’t want Allison to worry when you
didn’t come home.”

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Guess I shoulda
told ya’. Felicity know?”

“Not yet.”

“Mandalay?”

“I didn’t figure it was my place to tell
her.”

“Thanks.”

I shrugged. “No problem. You’d do the same
for me.” I paused for a moment, searching for the right words, then
said, “You’re going to want to talk to her, though. She’s returning
a favor…” I let my voice trail off.

“Yeah, I know.” He gave a short nod. “And I
owe her an apology too.”

“Probably,” I agreed. “So you never answered
my question. Where are you staying?”

“‘
Nother copper in homicide has some
rental property down on Tennessee,” he told me. “It was vacant, so
he’s lettin’ me have it on a week-to-week.”

“You know, you could have come here. We have
a guest room.”

“Naahh.” He shook his head as he uttered the
negative. “I think I need some space right now.”

“As long as you don’t withdraw too much.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“So how is Ben junior handling it?”

“About as well as can be expected I
guess.”

“What about you? You doing okay?”

He gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Apparently
not as okay as I thought I was.”

“I’m sure it’s a big adjustment,” I
offered.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“So, I know you’ve got Helen, but if you need
another ear…” I let my voice trail off.

“Yeah, I know. I appreciate it, white
man.”

“No problem. So… At the risk of prying, is
this something you two are going to be able to work out?”

He was just about to answer me when
Felicity’s terrified scream shattered the newfound calmness of the
night.

J
ust as I had witnessed
less than two days before, the audible signal of distress served as
a trigger, sending my friend’s hand immediately to his sidearm. His
now alert gaze swung instantly in the direction of the scream. I’m
not sure which one of us began moving first, but I just barely made
it to the back door in front of him. In either case, the dogs had
overtaken us, and we were both stumbling over them as they yapped
wildly at the door. I pushed through to the interior of the house,
immediately on the heels of the boisterous canines, and my friend
was at my back, physically urging me ahead at a quickening
pace.

The dogs had left us in their wake, and I
could now hear them whining; the high-pitched noise was
interspersed with low growls, and that punctuated the now random
barks. Advancing through the kitchen, I caught fleeting glimpses of
our cats, fur puffed out in panic, as they darted in opposing
directions, two of them literally bouncing from one another before
continuing to individual hiding places.

I hooked through the kitchen doorway, into
the dining room, and then continued through, my arc leading me down
the hallway to our bedroom. I hit the door at as close to a dead
run as I could manage in the short distance. The dogs were already
scratching at the barrier, yelping and growling as they sought to
protect their mistress from the unseen intruder.

Felicity was already splitting the darkness
with a third scream. Of all the noises and exclamations I had ever
heard coming from her, this had never been among them. This was
something entirely new and beyond horrifying. At this moment, it
frightened me more than anything in recent memory. It was a sound
that made me painfully aware that blood could in fact run cold.

I could feel Ben at my back as I burst
through the door and stepped into the darkened room. My gaze fell
immediately to the bed but found only rumpled sheets partially
illuminated by the swath of light that was projecting inward from
the hallway. I reached to my side and slapped the light switch on
the wall just above the headboard. Brightness leapt onto the
tableau, and I brought my eyes up as my ears centered in on the
terror-stricken shriek, which was only now beginning to trail
off.

Felicity was cowering in the opposite corner,
back pressed into the wall next to the bathroom door, hands holding
either side of her head as she rocked in a frantic rhythm. Crimson
trails were trickling down her arm from her bloody left hand, and
an obvious smear blemished her cheek. I launched myself forward,
swiveling around the end of the bed and dropping to my knees in
front of my wife.

“Felicity?!” I called as I reached out and
placed my hands on her trembling shoulders.

My touch proved only to elicit a new round of
screams as she began flailing her arms and slapping at me blindly.
Her eyes were fixed directly ahead, unblinking and dilated. Upon
catching a glimpse of the glassy stare, I was convinced that she
wasn’t even walking in this world.

“FELICITY!” I called again, grabbing at her
wrists as I attempted to defend myself against her unconscious
attack. “FELICITY! It’s me! Rowan!”

Her head snapped back, and she centered her
unfocused stare on my face. Her arms stopped flailing, but she
continued to tremble and rock. She sat wordlessly— looking through
me more than at me.

I reached out and slowly started to brush
back her hair. She flinched and I hesitated.

“It’s okay, Felicity,” I cooed softly. “It’s
me. It’s Rowan.”