Felicity recognized that I had talked myself into a corner and jumped in to divert the conversation. “So what do we do now?”
Jante looked over to her. “Unfortunately, we can’t simply assume that she is fabricating everything she says. The real sticking points are the mentions of Miranda in your arrest record, so we need to be clear on why exactly that is.”
“It sounds like you consider that some sort of damning evidence,” I observed.
“It is. It indicates a connection.”
“Then let me ask another question and hope like hell I don’t regret it later. Why does the federal government care whether or not my wife is implicated in this?”
“Contrary to what you might believe, Mister Gant, the government does actually care whether or not an innocent person is wrongly accused or convicted of a crime.”
“No offense, but you’ll have to forgive me if I take that with a shaker full of salt.”
“I’m merely answering your question. We aren’t here to change your opinions.”
I didn’t press any further. I felt certain there was something going on behind the scenes here, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. However, what I did know for a fact was that some unnamed benefactor within the FBI had pulled my fat out of the fire when I had been arrested in New Orleans while unofficially investigating this case on my own. Something told me that same mystery person was behind this as well. I suppose I should have been thankful, and in many ways I was, but in the back of my head I couldn’t help but wonder what price I was going to pay and exactly when the bill was going to come due.
“We are simply trying to find the truth,” Doctor Jante said. “We need to determine if anything Devereaux has said is both accurate and at the same time inaccessible without her first having direct contact with Miz O’Brien.” She shifted her gaze to Felicity and added, “If you had such contact with her, we need to know about it, and why.”
“And if there is something she knows that she shouldn’t?” my wife asked.
“Then we could potentially have a problem,” Hanley said.
“I think we have one then,” she replied.
“How so? Did you have direct contact with Devereaux?”
“No, not until the night at the zoo when she was captured. And when she called to threaten me. But you already know about all that.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“I’m sure Miranda knows quite a bit about me,” she sighed. “Much more than she reasonably should.”
“It would help if you could be a bit more specific about that,” Doctor Jante pressed.
“Believe me,” I spoke up. “That’s just about as specific as you want her to get.”
“And why is that, Mister Gant?” she asked.
I had already slipped twice and managed to duck and run. I didn’t know if I could get away with it a third time. But, since this conversation was rushing headlong toward parts unknown, I elected to give them my standard answer anyway. “Because if either of us tell you who Miranda really is, and how we came to know her, you won’t believe us.”
“How can you be so sure?” Hanley asked.
“Got the t-shirt,” I told him with a matter-of-fact shrug.
“May I ask if this has anything to do with your personal contention that Miranda is actually some sort of Voodoo spirit and that Devereaux, as well as your wife, have both been possessed by said entity?” Doctor Jante asked.
The question caught me cold, and I simply didn’t have an immediate response for it. In fact, I wasn’t entirely certain I had a response at all. The one thing that kept going through my mind, however, was Ben Storm’s voice saying, “Yeah, tell it to a judge.”
After a moment I let out a chuckle and shook my head. “You two are good. I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“We’re simply after the truth, Mister Gant.”
The question in my mind at this point was how they knew. Obviously they were in possession of the case files; they had said as much right at the outset. But, I wasn’t aware that any of the less tangible information had ended up in those official records. In fact, I was somewhat flabbergasted that it apparently had.
Both Ben and Constance were fanatically meticulous about premeditated omission of the paranormal details when it came to their reports. There were simply some events that had no logical explanation-certain happenings that, when committed to paper, came off as too bizarre for belief, especially to the uninitiated and devoutly skeptical. If either of them actually tried including some of the things they’d personally witnessed, they would most likely find their careers becoming stagnant or even non-existent.
Of course, how they found out really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. What it now boiled down to was the fact that I was correct. My third attempt at ducking the radar was a bust. So were the first and second apparently. I no longer had “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you” to hide behind, and that left me suddenly feeling very naked.
“Okay…” I finally said. “Since you are all about the truth, are you hiding anything else up your collective sleeves, or are we all really on the same page now?”
Special Agent Hanley spoke first. “This is nothing we were hiding. Obviously we’re familiar with both your backgrounds. I mean it’s really no secret to anyone, especially given the high profile cases on which you’ve consulted for the local police in the past.”
“The official reports don’t include the paranormal aspects of the investigations,” I countered. “You and I both know that.”
“Official reports, no. But neither of you are particularly shy about your beliefs, and trust me, what you do when consulting on a case makes its way through the grapevine even if it doesn’t go into a report.”
“Obviously… Well, I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised by that. Or by the fact that you did your homework. Actually, I suppose I should be shocked if you hadn’t, especially since you’ve been playing us from the word go. But, like you said, since we don’t hide our beliefs, that’s really a moot point.” I shifted in my seat then tossed my glance back and forth between them before adding, “I am a bit curious about where this is going, however. So, let’s continue our trend of honesty here. I’m guessing you’re both more than just a little skeptical about our take on Miranda, which is no surprise either.”
“Well, we certainly don’t subscribe to a belief that the immortal soul of a dead woman is taking possession of living bodies in order to commit crimes,” Doctor Jante replied. “Quite honestly, Mister Gant, that’s ludicrous.”
“Okay, so obviously ‘skeptical’ wasn’t a strong enough word,” I remarked as I shrugged. “You pretty much think we’re nuts. Fine. Once again, no big surprise there. I’ve got a few of those t-shirts too.”
“Neither of us said we think you’re insane,” she countered.
“No, but you didn’t have to,” I replied. “I’ve seen the look before. So, let’s quit dancing around and get to the real issue here. The way I figure it, either you’re actually afraid that Devereaux’s attorney is going to use this to somehow discredit the prosecution, or you have a different agenda.”
“No agenda, as you put it, Mister Gant,” she replied. “We’re simply doing a criminal investigative analysis to support the federal prosecutor, like we just explained. All of our cards are on the table at this point.”
“Yeah…until the next one appears,” I huffed. “So, unless I missed my guess, you have a different theory about who Miranda is?”
Doctor Jante shook her head and tossed her gaze back and forth between Felicity and me. “Actually, I wish I could say that you’re correct, but right now we’re just working on the basis that there must be something latent that is shared between Devereaux and you, Miz O’Brien. Something we’ve missed that could explain her intimate knowledge of you.”
“The only thing we share is some DNA, and I’m none too excited about that,” my wife spat. “Like I already told you, I didn’t even know Annalise
existed until a few months ago when this all started.”
“Devereaux says the same thing. In fact, it would appear her base personality is even more in the dark than you. She isn’t aware of your familial ties at all.”
“Good. I’d like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.”
“I have no intention of telling her, but I’m certain her attorney knows. And, you must understand that it will come out at some point during the trial, if not before. That much is a given.”
“ Fek…” my wife muttered.
“The concern, however, is the alleged personality called Miranda. She knows far too much about you, as you already heard. Any way you slice it, Miranda or Annalise, she is creating a tangible connection that can be used to implicate you in the crimes.”
“That connection is exactly why Annalise wanted to kill me,” Felicity returned, exasperation in her voice. “Just like Miranda said. Believe me, none of it was my choice.”
“None of what?”
“None of what you refuse to believe.”
“Miz O’Brien, even if we chose to believe such a thing could happen, there’s no possible way to prove it in a court of law,” Agent Hanley insisted.
“Which is just another reason I wasn’t saying anything about it in the first place,” my wife spat as she looked over at him then returned her gaze to Doctor Jante. “So, do I pass your test now?”
“At this point we aren’t doubting that you sincerely believe what you are saying,” she replied.
“Do you believe in God, Doctor Jante?” I asked, attempting to shunt the conversation toward our favor.
Hanley interjected. “I know where you are going with that Mister Gant, and it won’t work. I can assure you the court will gladly agree that you are free to believe anything you want, but belief in something does not make it a tangible fact.”
“Okay, different avenue then. If I’ve been following you correctly, Miranda is the problem. Annalise is simply oblivious. So if all you are dealing with is Annalise, no problem.”
“Yes, that’s correct, more or less.”
“Then I guess that’s our option,” I replied.
“What do you mean?” Jante asked.
I took a deep breath then let the sentence fly before I could talk myself out of it. “I need to make Miranda go away for good.”
Hanley shot a skewed look at Jante then back to me. When he spoke again there was a note of warning in his voice. “Mister Gant, you should know that…”
“Please don’t misunderstand…” I said, cutting him off. “I’m not implying anything sinister or illegal. Like I said, Miranda, not Annalise.”
“All right, I’ll play along. Let’s assume for a moment Miranda really is what you say she is. How do you propose to make her go away?”
“I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” I said. “But I know it has to start with me talking directly to Annalise myself.”
CHAPTER 18:
“Row, would you mind if we postponed this afternoon’s plans,” Felicity asked as we exited the lobby of the FBI field office on Market Street, downtown.
“Not in the mood anymore?” I returned.
“Yes and no,” she said. “I mean, I am in some ways, but all that talk about Miranda has me a bit squeamish. It kind of put a damper on the idea if you know what I mean. It’s just that… Well we could… But, you know I’m afraid I might…”
I slipped my arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze then kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t need to explain, hon, I know exactly what you mean. Don’t worry about it. Why don’t we just grab some lunch and maybe catch a matinee or something instead.”
I could tell the whole encounter still had her rattled just by the way her voice was slipping into a heavier brogue. Just like exhaustion, intense emotions had a way of doing that to her. Her anxiety definitely wasn’t uncalled for. She had every right to it, and even more.
“Aye, sounds like a plan,” she agreed.
“How about the Metro Diner?”
“What? Not Charlie’s? I mean, anywhere is fine with me, but we’re already downtown after all, and Metro is back toward the suburbs.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, I know. But Chuck doesn’t serve liver and onions. Metro does.”
“Liver and onions… Having a craving are we then?”
“Yeah, actually… I think maybe I am.”
“I’ll pass on that,” she added. “I think maybe I’d be happy with a BLT or something of that sort myself.”
“I’m pretty sure Metro has them on the menu.”
We stopped at the curb and waited for a car to cross in front of us. The sun was shining between a light scattering of clouds, and there was a soft breeze blowing. We were at the tail end of the unusual warm spell, so the temperature had only crept up near fifty and probably wasn’t going to climb much farther. Closer to typical for a Midwestern March, but then, this was Saint Louis. Weather always seemed to be a roll of the dice here, no matter how hard the meteorologists tried to nail it down. Even so, to me it seemed almost springlike.
As we waited for a second vehicle to roll by, I shrugged out of my jacket and slung it over my shoulder then slipped my arm back around Felicity. Once the lane was clear, we stepped off the curb and aimed ourselves toward her Jeep.
After a moment she spoke up again. “Do you think they’ll actually go for it?”
“Who go for what?”
“Letting you speak to Annalise.”
“Oh, that,” I replied. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see. They definitely didn’t seem sold on the idea, did they?”
She shook her head and pursed her lips as she frowned. “Even if they change their minds and will arrange it, I can’t imagine her attorney would be too happy about letting you then.”
“True story,” I agreed. “But, if she decides she’s willing to talk to me, and it’s her choice, then maybe there’s a chance. If the people with the badges will go for it.”
She fell quiet until we split apart, and I ushered her in front of me between a pair of parked vehicles.
“And what you need to talk to her about is the necklace,” she said over her shoulder, offering the words as a statement rather than a question.
“Yes.”
She slowed then stopped and turned to face me. “So do you maybe want to explain that to me now, or is it still a big secret?”
“Want, yes,” I replied, shaking my head. “But like I said, I can’t…not just yet.”
“Why not?”
“I made someone a promise.”
“Who?”
“Honey, I can’t really say…”
She studied my face for a moment then let out what sounded to be an abbreviated version of an exasperated sigh. “It’s a good damn thing I trust you, Rowan Linden Gant.”
“Yeah, believe me, I know.”
I felt a tickle on my side, somewhere even with my beltline. The soft vibration was quickly followed by a short chirp and a muffled feminine voice. I reached down and pulled my cell phone from its holder then glanced at the display. As I suspected it was notifying me that I had several new voicemails. I flipped the device open and scrolled through the missed calls. Every single one came from the same familiar number.
“Ben,” I said aloud, turning the display toward Felicity and holding it up for her to see.
“Aye, no surprise that.” She nodded, glancing at the LCD. “Better call him back before he works himself into a snit.”
I half chuckled. “This is Ben you’re talking about. I’m sure he already has…”
She turned and continued walking the dozen or so steps to her Jeep. As I followed along, I thumbed the button so the cell would dial the most recently missed call then placed it against my ear.
“It’s about time,” Ben’s voice issued from the speaker following the first half of the third ring. “I been tryin’ ta’ call ya’ back for two hours, but all I got was your friggin’ voicemail.”
“Whatever ha
ppened to just plain hello?” I asked.
“Simple. Our fast-paced lives and caller ID made it obsolete.”
“Listen to you…” I jibed. “Mister high tech social commentator.”
“Not a chance… I just heard some asshole say that on the news the other day. I think he was talkin’ about manners or somethin’, but it sounded like it would fit.”
“Yeah, I should have figured as much,” I grunted. “Well, I’m sorry for the delay in calling, but apparently I wasn’t getting a signal for the past couple of hours, so I just now got the voicemail notifications.”
In that moment anything resembling lightheartedness fled from his voice. “So listen, Row, did I understand your message right? You’n Firehair actually had a meetin’ with the Feebs this mornin’?”
“Unfortunately, yeah. We just got out of it as a matter of fact.”
“Unfortunately? That doesn’t sound good… So what’s the deal?”
“Long story short, Miranda is still trying to get to Felicity.”
“Yeah, you’ve been sayin’ that’d happen. But what’ve the Feebs got ta’ do with it?”
“Well, it seems that at the moment her plan of attack is to implicate Felicity in the murders.”
“Fuck me… We’ve already been down this road…”
“Tell me about it.”
“So they ain’t buyin’ into ‘er story, are they?”
“I don’t think so. At least, they say they aren’t, but I really don’t know for sure. We were talking to a pair from the BAU, and they weren’t exactly forthcoming with the whole story in the beginning. It took a bit to drag it out of them, and I’m still not convinced they aren’t leaving something out.”
“Not surprisin’. So, that just a hunch or did ya’ get a hinky feelin’?”
“A little of both, I think. Something weird is definitely going on. I just don’t know what it is. I’m not freaking out just yet, but I’m definitely just this side of worried.”
“Great… So, weird how?”
“Weird like maybe someone behind the scenes is calling the shots.”
“Could it just be chain of command?”
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