Felicity was snuggled against me, one arm slipped beneath the folds of my coat to wrap around my back and the other bent upward to hold my hand where I had my own arm draped around her shoulders. I could feel her warm breath against my neck whenever she would exhale. A sharp chill would fall in behind it whenever she would turn her own face upward to stare with me.
“And the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood…” I whispered.
“Revelations?” Felicity whispered the question.
“Chapter six, verse twelve,” I replied. “And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake… And the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood…”
“I suppose it’s ironic, isn’t it then?”
“That’s one word for it,” I replied. “Not the one I had in mind though.”
“They’re just stories, Rowan,” she said. “You of all people know that. You can even quote them better than most Christians. The Bible is a book of allegorical prose. It’s filled with misunderstood and misinterpreted metaphors and similes from a different age.”
“I know,” I sighed. “But everything has an element of truth to it somewhere… And sometimes…with everything I’ve seen…I just… Well, I just have to wonder if some prophecies are universal… If perhaps we’re driving ourselves headlong into the darkened abyss of our own insanity. Why else would so many people do the horrible things they do?”
“Don’t overanalyze,” she offered. “Just try to forget about it. This is over. You’ve earned a rest.”
I gave my head a slow shake. “Something tells me it isn’t.”
“Why?”
I let out a heavy sigh and pulled her closer as I struggled to find the words to express what I was feeling. “This wasn’t right… I mean, the way it all happened. This killer escalated far too quickly. From a victim who disappeared several months ago, to a sudden spree.”
“I’m sure the serial killer experts have an explanation for that.”
“You’re right, they probably do. But something still feels very wrong about it to me… And, that isn’t the only thing. Ben made a valid point back at the rest area. I just handed him an address for the killer, and here we are. We all know that isn’t how it happens. Everything usually comes to me in cryptic messages I have to decipher. That’s how communication across the veil works. It’s like a language barrier.”
“Maybe you’re just learning the language then,” she replied.
“Maybe…” I said. “But that’s not how it feels. It’s almost as if someone was translating for me.”
“Who?”
I sighed again. “That’s the problem. I have no idea. I feel like I should, but I just don’t…”
“You two okay?” Ben’s voice came at us from behind. “You been standin’ here for damn near fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “We’re okay.”
“Good,” he harrumphed. “Listen, I thought ya’ might like ta’ know… I just got word that Judith Albright’s been found…”
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” I said in a soft voice, commenting more than questioning.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Afraid so…”
“And her body wasn’t found here either,” I continued my emotionless observation.
“No. Just a few miles further west of where they found ‘er car, actually. Looks like she was raped and then strangled. Might’ve been a carjackin’ or somethin’ of that sort that went south. That’s not confirmed yet, but it definitely looks like a separate crime. They’re already workin’ it on that basis. Gotta get an ID from next of kin too, but that’s just a formality. They’re ninety-nine percent sure it’s her.”
I let out a short, bemused snort. “It’s a black swan.”
“No,” he replied. “Like I just told ya’, it’s unrelated. Nothin’ ta’ do with this whole deal as far as they can tell.”
“I know,” I explained. “I don’t mean what you’re thinking. Black swan is a label given to a theory of improbability regarding unexpected, hard to predict, high impact events that are beyond the normal expectations or assumptions.
“We assumed Judith had fallen prey to this particular killer because she fit the victim profile and because of the time frame in which she went missing. It made sense. However, we couldn’t predict that she would in reality be the victim of a wholly different, but no less heinous crime… Her death is more or less a black swan.”
“Yeah, well, call it whatever ya’ want, it’s still a friggin’ homicide.”
“Has anyone told Barbara?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “A coupl’a minutes ago. She ain’t takin’ it too well, but then, who would…”
“Nobody with a heart.”
“Yeah… So about that whole swan thing… Ya’ think maybe the Twilight Zone was tryin’ ta’ tell ya’ about somethin’ else besides our Count Dracula wannabe in there? Maybe warn ya’ about Albright?”
“I wish I knew…” I mumbled. “All I can say is that this particular juxtaposition of reality and the ethereal definitely gives me something else to make my head hurt…”
“Yeah… Well… Sorry about that.”
“I’ll get over it… I hope.”
“Well, maybe this’ll help a bit,” he offered. “The crime scene guys cleared up one of Doc Sanders’ mysteries. Found a pair of slip joint pliers with fake vampire teeth epoxied to ‘em. Pretty much explains the postmortem bite marks with no DNA.”
“Yeah, I guess it does…” I muttered.
“Found a boom-box with a CD of weird-ass chanting in it too,” he added. “That’d prob’ly cover what ya’ thought ya’ heard back at the morgue.”
I sighed but didn’t verbally respond.
“You sure you’re okay, white man?” he asked again.
Eventually I breathed, “It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he replied then paused for a second. “So, what’re you two starin’ at?”
“The moon, Ben,” my wife told him.
“Yeah, what about it? It about ta’ crash into us or somethin’?”
“Take a good look at it,” she answered.
He was quiet for a moment then said, “Okay, it’s a full moon. That’s like a big deal for you or somethin’, right?”
“You don’t notice anything else?”
He shrugged with the tone of his voice. “It looks kinda red and the one edge is kinda dark, so? Fuckin’ air pollution and clouds.”
“No,” I said. “It’s actually a partial lunar eclipse.”
“No shit?” he mumbled.
“No shit,” Felicity replied.
“That kinda rare or somethin’?”
“What rock have you been living under?” she asked. “It happens anywhere from two to five times each year.”
“Hey, the moon crap is your thing, not mine. But if it’s that common, what’s the big effin’ deal?”
Still staring upward I asked, “Would you like to know what else it’s called, Ben?”
“Lemme guess, the moon?” he replied with audible sarcasm.
“A blood moon,” I said.
He was quiet for several heartbeats before he muttered, “Fuck me…”
“Yeah. That’s closer to the words I had picked out,” I replied.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “So it’s weird and all, but coincidences happen. You’ve said so yourself.”
“Maybe…”
“You don’t think it is?”
“I really can’t say,” I told him. “But the alternative isn’t a pretty thought.”
“You’re soundin’ all doom and gloom there, white man.”
“Yeah… I know.”
“You absolutely certain he’s okay, Firehair?” he asked after a substantial pause.
“He’s just tired, Ben,” she answered. “Like he said, it’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, no shit. Speakin’ of which, are you two ready to get outta here? I can get ya’ a ride.”
“You’re staying?” Felicity asked.
“Kinda hafta,” he told her. “But you two are free and clear. And if ya’ wanna just head straight home, I can make a call, and I’m sure your Jeep will be fine till tomorrow mornin’.”
“Aye, I think maybe that would be a good idea.”
“Well c’mon,” he said. “I’ll get ya’ hooked up.”
I found it hard to tear my eyes away from the blushing disk in the sky, but after Felicity tugged at my arm for a second time, I dropped my gaze and followed her. As we crossed the yard, skirting past the county medical examiner on his way in to retrieve the bodies, our path intersected with Sergeant Madden’s.
“Were you watching the eclipse?” she asked.
“Yes,” Felicity answered for the both of us, glancing up at it then back to the officer.
Madden glanced upward quickly as well and then back to us. “My kid is doing a paper on it for school,” she offered before clucking her tongue and regarding us with a quizzical look dressing her features. “You know, maybe it’s none of my business, you being with Major Case and all, but mind if I ask exactly what kind of consultants you two are?”
“Independent,” I said, giving her the first mundane word that came to mind. “I’m afraid what we do is a little hard to explain.”
She cocked her head to the side and gave me a hard look. Then, like the state trooper had done back at the rest area, she stared at the ground for a second as she twice repeated my name, as much to herself as us. Looking back up at my face with recognition flashing in her eyes, she slowly shook a finger at me.
“Wait… Rowan Gant. I knew I’d heard that name before. You’re the…”
Psychic… Witch… Neither of the labels really mattered to me right now. So I cut her off before either word could pass her lips, and with a lifetime’s worth of weariness creeping into my voice I said, “Yeah. Whether I like it or not, apparently I am.”
Friday, April 21
7:49 P.M.
Flipdoodles Restaurant
Delmar Loop
University City, Missouri
CHAPTER 34:
“What the hell kinda name is Flipdoodles?” Ben asked.
“Ben!” Constance quietly admonished, reaching to the side and slapping him on the shoulder.
“What?” my friend replied, raising his eyebrows and splaying out his hands in surrender. “I’m just askin’ a question.”
This was the first time we had been out with the petite FBI agent since the shooting in December that had left her in critical condition for a time. She was healed for the most part and back to work now. The Bureau had her on desk duty for the time being, but considering how amazingly well she seemed to be doing I seriously doubted the assignment would be permanent.
“You’re really looking good, Constance,” I said, picking up my drink and raising it toward her. “Here’s to your continued health.”
“ Slainte,” Felicity said, picking up her drink as well.
“Thank you,” Mandalay said with a smile after joining us in the toast, then brushed a shock of brunette hair back from her eyes as she settled her tumbler back to the table. “I’m feeling good. I still tire a bit quicker than I used to, but I’m getting stronger. I really think getting back to work has helped.”
“I was actually surprised you went back so soon,” I commented.
“I had to,” she replied. “I was going stir crazy.”
“I heard. You know, we were pretty worried about you there for a while.”
“Aye,” Felicity agreed. “And I don’t know how I can ever repay you for what you did for me.”
Constance blushed slightly and shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything, Felicity. It’s my job. I’m just happy you weren’t injured. And, it’s good to see you back to your normal self.”
“Here-here,” Ben announced, lifting his glass and taking a swig. As he set it back on the table, he looked at us quizzically. “So… you gonna answer my question or just fawn over the Feeb?”
“You don’t think she deserves it?” I asked.
“Dunno. She’s startin’ ta’ get a bit demanding. Don’t wanna feed the attitude, or she might start actin’ too much like Firehair.”
Mandalay gave him another slap and he jokingly smirked.
“It’s really just a nonsense name, Ben,” Felicity told him as she shrugged. “It’s what Ailleagan wanted to call the place. I like it. It’s fun.”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “Fun. And that just begs the follow-up question-what the hell kinda name is Ale-again? Sounds like someone orderin’ another round at a old timey bar.”
“For your information, it’s Gaelic,” my wife replied. “It means gem or jewel.”
“Then why doesn’t she just call ‘erself Jewel?”
“Because her name is Ailleagan,” Felicity said. “Not Jewel.”
“Yeah… So I take it she’s a foreigner like you?” he quipped.
“I’ll have you know I was born in the United States, and I maintain dual citizenship.”
“Can’t make up your mind, eh?”
“Don’t make me kick you.”
“Ya’ already did as I recall. Still got a bruise.”
“ Cac capaill. You do not. But I’ll be delighted to give you one. Maybe two or three if you keep it up.”
“Yeah, whatever. So, anyway, when ya’ get right down to it, you’re all just a bunch of foreigners, ain’t ya’?” He grinned and thrust his thumbs back at himself. “I’m the only one that really belongs here.”
“For someone who denies his heritage on a regular basis, you sure like to play that Native American card when it suits you,” I chuckled.
“Whatever works, white man,” he said with a wider grin then looked around the restaurant and gestured. “So are we ever gonna get some menus or what?”
“No,” Felicity replied.
“Whaddaya mean no?”
My wife simply smiled and left him twisting in the wind, so I explained. “They don’t do menus here, Ben. They plan a meal for the evening and that’s what you get.”
He regarded me with a confused expression. “Bullshit. Very funny.”
“No, I’m serious.”
“Aye, he is,” Felicity added. “Look around. Doesn’t it look to you like everyone is eating the same thing?”
He gave the dining room another glance then faced us again and cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, well seems ta’ be a whole lotta big groups here tonight. They prob’ly got some kinda deal or somethin’.”
“Actually, they probably aren’t big groups,” my wife explained waving her finger around. “Normally you just sit wherever there’s space and eat with everyone else. The only reason we have this smaller table is because I know how you are, and I asked Ailleagan for a favor.” She sat back and regarded him with a faux smug expression. “So, the way I see it, you owe me.”
“Uh-huh. Right. We coulda’ just gone someplace else, ya’know,” he replied.
“It wouldn’t be as good.”
“Yeah, back ta’ that. So you’re really tellin’ me I don’t get ta’ order what I want?”
“Correct,” I replied. “But, you get the pleasure of eating what they serve you.”
“That’s just great,” he snorted. “So what if it’s somethin’ I don’t wanna eat?”
“Then I guess you go hungry,” Constance interjected.
“I’ve never been disappointed by a meal here, Ben,” I replied. “Seriously. Ailleagan is an amazing chef.”
“Don’t worry,” Felicity spoke up. “When I called this afternoon I asked what she was making. They’re serving Spring Chicken Wellington tonight. It’s her signature dish, and it’s absolutely wonderful.”
“Yeah, says you, but is it gonna have somethin’ in it I don’t like?”
Constance shook her head. “Who knows when it comes to you.”
“I ain’t that bad,” he objected. “There’s just some stuff I don’t wanna eat.”
“Unless it’s a donut?” I asked.
“Yeah, right. Very funny.”
“Or anything that isn’t a hamburger or a pizza?” Mandalay quipped.
“Not true. Now you’re makin’ me sound finicky.”
“You are.”
“Yeah, so what about you, Little Miss Sprouts-and-Tofu?”
I chuckled again. “I see the two of you are getting along just as well as usual.”
“Yeah, well I’m cuttin’ ‘er some slack, ya’know,” Ben replied.
“I think I’m the one cutting someone slack here,” she countered. “I suppose I should be grateful you haven’t asked them if they want to see my scars.” She waited a beat then added, “Yet.”
Felicity looked at her with a mildly stunned expression. “He did that?”
“Just once, so far,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “And he was talking to my SAC no less.”
“Ben!” my wife scolded. “That’s just insensitive.”
“Feebs got no sense of humor,” he returned.
“I didn’t shoot you, did I?” Constance asked.
“Yeah, whatever,” Ben chuckled.
“So, Constance,” Felicity said, leaning across the table toward her. “If you don’t happen to have any duct tape handy, in a pinch a washcloth and a nylon scarf make an excellent gag.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she giggled.
“Yeah, you would know somethin’ like that, wouldn’t ya’?” my friend said.
“I can’t imagine you’re surprised,” my wife told him.
“I’m not, but you both know I ain’t inta’ that kinky shit,” he huffed.
“Are we embarrassing you?” Constance asked.
“Yes.” He emphasized the terse answer.
“Good,” she replied with a wicked grin. “If we keep it up maybe I’ll be even with you by next year.”
“Uh-huh,” he grumbled. “So can we talk about somethin’ else?”
“Okay, what would you like to talk about?” she asked.
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