“Maybe, but I don’t really think so. It seems more like a pay no attention to the man behind the curtain sort of thing. You know, like the whole episode with the cops in NOLA suddenly dropping the charges against me because someone at the FBI requested it.”
“Okay, yeah. I get it. See why I hate the Feebs? You can’t trust ‘em.”
“Yeah, so what about Constance?”
“She’s the exception, not the rule. Speakin’ of Constance, you want me ta’ have ‘er make some calls and check some shit out?”
“Well, I’ll admit I’d sure like to know who it is I’m indebted to before he or she suddenly decides to collect,” I replied. “So, if you think she’d be willing I’d really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well you know how she is. All I gotta do is mention it and she’ll start snoopin’. She may still be on medical leave but that sorta shit’s never stopped ‘er before. B’sides, it’ll give her somethin’ to do. She’s climbin’ the walls right now, and she’s still got two weeks left before they’ll even think about lettin’ ‘er back on the job.”
“I know, but please tell her not to get herself into any trouble over this. It’s mine and Felicity’s problem, not hers.”
“Yeah, like she’s gonna listen ta’ me. Get real.”
“I know, I know… It’s just that we owe her so much as it is. I don’t want her screwing up her career any more.”
“You ain’t gonna be able ta’ stop ‘er, Row. She’s kinda attached ta’ you two in case you ain’t figured that out yet.”
“Well, the feeling is mutual.”
“Yeah…okay… So let’s change the subject before this turns all fuckin’ sappy and shit,” he urged. “Listen, you doin’ all right today?”
I shrugged out of reflex. “As well as can be expected under the circumstances, I guess. I mean, I’m annoyed, but…”
He cut me off. “No, Kemosabe, I mean with the Twilight Zone and all.”
“Yeah, pretty much I suppose, why?”
“So, no bleedin’ or anything?”
“No, Ben, just a bit of a headache.”
“Aspirin kinda headache or…”
This time I interrupted him instead. “Yeah, Ben, it’s a la-la land headache, but it’s not a bad one. Just your average, everyday ‘Rowan’s talking to dead people again’ headache. Is that what you’re wanting to know?”
“Well yeah, actually…”
“Okay, so what’s up?”
“You still downtown?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Both of ya’, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I grunted. We had arrived at the Jeep several minutes ago, and Felicity was already belted in behind the wheel. Out of habit I was still standing next to the passenger side with the door hanging open. “In fact, I’m looking at Felicity right now. She says hi.”
“Yeah, whatever. So where are ya’ exactly?”
“On the FBI’s parking lot, why?”
“Good, then you ain’t far away,” he said.
“Ben, are you going to tell me what you are going on about, or do I have to guess?”
He huffed out a sigh. “R’member that freak job with the metal band Wendy was tellin’ us about the other day?”
“Yeah… What was her name… Desiree or something like that, right? Don’t tell me she was murdered.”
“No, she’s not dead. Turns out ‘er real name is Margaret Lucas, but that ain’t the point. What is the point, however, is that she reported ‘er girlfriend missin’ last night.”
“Missing as in…”
“We don’t know. But, it looks suspicious, and she’s apparently been missin’ better’n forty-eight hours.”
“Are you certain?”
“No,” he replied, oozing sarcasm. “We’re runnin’ around with our thumbs up our asses and throwin’ darts at a board. Any more stupid questions?”
“Sorry…” I said. “I’m still in that suspicious mindset.”
“Yeah, me too,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that. It’s just been a long day already.”
“I can imagine. So how did homicide get involved?”
“Goddamn computer did somethin’ right for a change. Listed under identifyin’ marks is a tattoo of a black swan just over ‘er heart. When they were enterin’ the info, it raised a flag and got kicked over to Major Case.”
“Dammit,” I muttered.
“Yeah, that’s kinda what I said,” he agreed. “Looks like our bad guy got ‘imself a fresh victim.”
“The question is, how long before this one turns up in a dumpster somewhere…”
“E’zactly,” he replied. “So listen, had our own meetin’ with the Feebs about forty-five minutes ago and things are startin’ ta’ get busy if ya’ know what I mean. On top of that I got my brass buggin’ me about you. I told ‘em you were on board, so now they’re kinda wantin’ ya’ to weigh in on this. If ya’ could put in a little face time down here it’d be a good thing.”
“You know, I still don’t get that. When the hell did I become their golden boy?” I asked. “It hasn’t been too long since I was a pariah. And before that I had Albright on my ass at every turn.”
He hesitated for a moment then replied with what seemed to be a cautious note in his voice. “Yeah… You got me, Row… I know what you’re sayin’… But like I said last night, they know you get results…”
“Is something wrong?” I pressed.
“No, why?”
“You sound a bit strange all of a sudden.”
“Sorry… Just a bit preoccupied with some shit… So anyway, if it’s any consolation, the word from on high is that they definitely don’t want ya’ talkin’ ta’ anybody but me about this…‘specially not the media clowns.”
“Keeping it compartmentalized, eh? More or less a help us, but don’t embarrass us scenario…”
“Yeah, that’s about it.”
“You sure there’s nothing wrong?” I pressed again.
“Yeah. It’s all good. Just a lot of shit goin’ down right now, and I’m swimmin’ in it.”
I didn’t have to see him to know he was probably sitting at his desk, massaging his neck with his free hand as he ruminated over that very fact himself. I couldn’t help but wonder if the invisible puppeteer that seemed to be controlling my destiny where the FBI was concerned also had a few strings attached to local law enforcement as well. Of course, the more I thought about it the more I wondered if I was finally losing my ability to entertain rational thoughts in favor of conspiracy theories. I hoped I hadn’t, but I figured if I started seeing black helicopters from the corner of my eye, it would be time to check myself into a padded cell under Helen Storm’s care.
“Hold on a sec…” I told Ben.
I covered the mouthpiece on the phone and looked in through the open door of the Jeep at Felicity. I started to speak, but before I could form the first word she nodded and said, “Aye, I’ll take a rain check on the movie, but let him know he’s buying lunch and fast food doesn’t qualify.”
CHAPTER 19:
When we arrived at City Police Headquarters, we were lucky enough to grab one of the parking spaces directly in front on Clark Avenue. Felicity nosed her Jeep in at an angle to the curb then set the parking brake and switched off the engine before looking over at me. We hadn’t really talked much on the way other than me giving her a quick rundown of the conversation with Ben; of course even with traffic, the drive had taken less than five minutes, so there hadn’t been much time for anything more in-depth.
“What now?” she asked.
“He said if we don’t see him to just stay where we are and give him a call on his cell,” I replied.
I glanced around but didn’t see the towering Native American anywhere. In fact, pedestrian traffic was so light that I noticed only a single pair of uniformed officers walking across the street. Judging from their direction, they appeared to be heading for a cop hangout diner called 40 that was located diagonally acro
ss from where we were now parked. I twisted in my seat to scan the area but saw no one else.
Turning my eyes back front, I followed Ben’s instructions, dug out my cell phone and gave him a call. I wasn’t sure if this was all some clandestine part of keeping me away from the press or what. I certainly hadn’t noticed any news vans nearby when I was looking around, but at this point I was just speculating anyway.
When my friend picked up, he seemed rushed, and therefore, our conversation was clipped. In fact, it really didn’t qualify as a conversation as much as a quick interrogation.
“Where are you?” Ben asked immediately, again bypassing any form of salutation.
“We’re parked right out front,” I replied.
“Stay put, I’ll be right down.”
Then, as quickly as he had answered, he was gone without even a goodbye.
“Well, what did he say?” Felicity asked as I folded the phone and tucked it away.
“He said he’s coming down. I don’t know why,” I replied.
Twisting slightly in my seat, I gazed past her at the diner on the other side of the street. I wasn’t overly hungry, but for some odd reason I was feeling inexplicably drawn to food at the moment.
I had eaten at 40 with Ben on a few occasions. It had actually started out as a coffee shop and had enjoyed a steady, if not exactly brisk, business for what seemed like ages. But in the past few years, it had flourished under new management after adding actual food to the menu.
After a quick mental inventory of what I remembered about their selections, I sighed then mused aloud, “Hmmm… I’m pretty sure Forty just does sandwiches… I don’t think they serve collard greens, so that won’t work either.”
“Collard greens? Where did that come from?” Felicity asked, shooting me a confused look. “What happened to liver and onions?”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t serve that either,” I muttered absently.
“So now you want both?”
“Yeah, actually… I do.”
My wife shook her head. “If you were a woman, I’d wonder if you were pregnant.”
“If that was the case wouldn’t I be craving pickles and ice cream?”
“That’s a…”
“I was kidding,” I said, cutting her off as I half chuckled. “Just kidding.”
“All right then, I’ll let it go this time,” she replied, then chewed at her lower lip for a moment before musing, “Well, obviously this must be because of the stress-just look at everything you’ve been through. But I wonder if it’s connected to the bleeding somehow…”
“What, you mean the cravings?” I asked.
She nodded. “Aye. You seem to be obsessing over foods rich in iron. Liver, collard greens… How would you feel about broccoli then?”
“Actually, it sounds pretty good at the moment,” I said, nodding agreement. “I’ll take all three.”
“That must be it then because you do seem a bit preoccupied with food and that’s not like you.”
“Makes sense to me. Like you said, stress, bleeding, iron… But yeah, the funny thing is I’m not even all that hungry at the moment.”
During the conversation, I had been keeping an eye on the front entrance of police headquarters, waiting for Ben to show. I gave my watch a quick glance then huffed out a sigh.
“I say we give him another five minutes,” I grumbled. “Then if he hasn’t shown I call again.”
“Irritability is a sign of an iron deficiency too,” my wife announced.
“Should I start calling you Doctor O’Brien?” I asked, humor in my tone.
“Not right now,” she replied, cocking her eyebrow. “But maybe we could still play doctor later.”
“Hmph… What happened to the damper on your mood?”
“I guess it went away.”
I shook my head and snorted. “Aren’t we a pair? I’m obsessing about food, you’re obsessing about sex, and neither of them is what we need to be worrying about at the moment. ”
She chuckled lightly. “Aye. You’re right. I think maybe we both need a break.”
“Tell me about it.”
“All right then, what do you think about taking a vacation?” she asked.
“I think it sounds good in theory…” I returned.
“Well? Why don’t we?” she pressed, peering back at me with brows raised and the question swimming in her green eyes. “We haven’t been on a real vacation in years.”
“Yeah, okay, sounds like a hell of an idea,” I replied with a mocking note. “Where are we going and when do we leave?”
“I’m serious, Rowan.” She sounded a bit hurt.
I quickly backpedaled. “I’m sorry, honey. That came out wrong. Actually, I’m serious too, sort of. Unfortunately, we need to wait until this is over.”
“And until Miranda is gone for good too, I suppose?” she said with an almost accusatory note in her voice.
“Yeah… That’s pretty much a given.”
“So, what you’re really saying is don’t make any plans.”
I had obviously misinterpreted how serious she was about this, and her sudden change in demeanor was a wake-up call. Reaching over, I carefully began to massage her shoulder through the leather of her jacket. “No, that isn’t what I’m saying. We just can’t leave right this minute. You know that as well as I do.”
“Aye, I do. But when?”
“I don’t know,” I replied and gave her a half-hearted shrug. “Think about it. I tried backing away from all this, and we saw where that got me. I mean, even you wanted me to stop fighting it. So, now… Well, I’m kind of stuck until this is over.”
“I know,” she murmured. “But remember? We promised ourselves…”
Her point was valid. We were more than due for a break, and we really had promised ourselves we would get away from things for a while once Annalise was in custody. Unfortunately, life got in the way, as usual, and now the dead were once again taking their turn playing roadblock.
It wasn’t as if we couldn’t afford a vacation financially. Money was the least of our problems. All we really needed to do was clear our schedules, get someone to housesit, and just go. It was the whole schedule-clearing thing that had become our ubiquitous sticking point.
I drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “Tell you what,” I said after a thoughtful moment. “I’ll make you a deal. As soon as this case is over we’re outta here.”
“And what about Miranda then?”
“If she’s taken care of, fine. If not, well, I’ll just carry the jar around in my suitcase, I guess.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yeah… We need the time away.”
“I’m fairly sure that’s what I was just saying.”
“I know, and I was listening even if it didn’t seem like it. There’s just one caveat… We can go anywhere you want except New Orleans. I don’t want you that close to that bitch ever again. Besides, I don’t even know if I’m exactly welcome there anymore.”
“Actually, I was thinking more along the line of home.”
“Home, eh? Well, I guess that will save us the trouble of packing.”
“Rowan…”
“I know, I know… Just joking again… I get it… You want to go to Ireland.”
“Aye. It’s been too long.”
“Can’t I just blindfold you and take you to one of the local pubs and pretend?”
“Joking again?”
“Trying to.”
“Well stop. You aren’t funny.” She underscored the comment with a grin.
I laughed and nodded. “Ireland it is.”
A hard rap sounded on the windshield to my right, making me start at the noise. I turned to see Ben peering in at us from the passenger side of the Jeep. Apparently both of us had been so preoccupied with our conversation that we hadn’t noticed him standing there. I popped the latch on the door and pushed it open, so he reached out and took hold of the upper edge of the frame and swung it wider. B
ending down, he looked through the now open gap.
“Am I interruptin’ you two?” he asked.
“Well, yeah, sort of,” I returned.
“Too bad.”
“Wow, Ben, thanks for understanding,” I retorted.
“Yeah, well I been standin’ here forever.”
I glanced at my watch then back at him. “Maybe a minute or two at the most.”
“Uh-huh, like I said, forever.”
I climbed out of the Jeep, and he moved back as I swung the door shut. Felicity was already coming around the front of the vehicle and stepping up on the sidewalk.
Ben glanced over at her then waved a finger at the Jeep and said “Yo, Firehair… Make sure ya’ lock it up.”
“We’re in front of the police station,” she replied.
“Yeah, and your point?”
Felicity replied by cocking her head to the side and giving him a nonplussed stare as she slid her hand into her jacket pocket. Almost instantly the clunk of the locks sounded next to me.
“There. Better?” she asked.
“Hey, it’s your shit, not mine,” Ben returned then stepped back up onto the sidewalk. “By the way, you got any salt?”
Felicity gave him a puzzled look then quipped, “Not with me. Why, are you out or something?”
“Here,” he said as he reached into his jacket pocket. When he withdrew it, small, white paper packets were protruding from between his fingers. He held them out to her, and she instinctively cupped her hands beneath his as he let them fall into her palms.
“I didn’t bother sortin’ it, so there’s prob’ly some pepper in there too, sorry ‘bout that,” he told her. Then jerking his head to the side, he motioned up the street and grunted, “C’mon, let’s get movin’.”
“What’s all this for?” Felicity asked, stuffing the unsought bounty into her pockets.
He pointed at me as he started turning to head up the sidewalk. “Ta’ keep his sorry ass safe. Got a bottle’a aspirin too if ya’ need it.”
“We’re going straight to the morgue, aren’t we?” I asked, my voice coming out in a flat drone because I already knew his answer.
“Yeah,” he replied. “We’re goin’ straight to the morgue.”
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