“Really? I rather saw myself more as a drifting Shao-Lin monk.” She allowed herself a small chuckle as she made the reference to the old television show.
I continued with the theme. “So, should I pluck the pebble from your hand now?”
She returned a brief smile then in almost the same instant fixed me with a hardcore seriousness in her eyes as she gazed at my face.
“Levity aside, Rowan, you should heed what I am telling you, for I cannot give you the full answer. With only a very few exceptions, I can merely guide you. In this case, guiding has become a bit of a shove, yes, but I dare not do anything more lest you lose sight of that which you need to see.”
“So, what you are saying is that I still have to learn the lesson the hard way.”
“If you are to learn it and not simply hear it, yes.”
“Okay,” I replied. “I’ll buy that. But what if I’ve already learned the lesson, and you just think I haven’t?”
“All right, then.” She looked back at me with an even gaze. “Enlighten me, Rowan.”
I blurted out my conclusion, “You think I’m afraid that I might be capable of killing Eldon Porter.”
“Do I?”
I halfway expected her non-committal response. “Yes.”
“Then I believe you have missed my point entirely.”
My overblown confidence in the statement was immediately deflated. “Excuse me?”
She shook her head. “Like I have told you before, Rowan, it is not about what I think. It is what YOU think that is important.”
“Okay.” I played along, couching the comment differently in an attempt to regain my position. “Then, I’m afraid that, given the opportunity, I might kill Porter.”
“Are you?”
I tilted my head and endeavored to take a puff on my cigar, only to find that it had gone out. “You were supposed to say, ‘Correct, Rowan, now pass go and here is your two hundred dollars.’”
“That prize is not going to come from me, Rowan. It is an epiphany that will come from inside of you.”
“Helen, you’re making my head hurt.”
She smiled and chuckled once again. “I am sure that this is not the first time I have done so, Rowan, and I suspect that it will not be the last.”
“Thanks.” Sincerity permeated my voice.
Helen finished lighting a fresh cigarette and allowed herself a deep drag then exhaled before looking out across the yard and answering me. “For what, Rowan?”
“For putting up with my hard-headedness, I guess.”
“You are most welcome.”
I rummaged about in my pocket for a lighter and then knocked the dead ash from the end of my cigar. I turned my back to the wind and shielded the end of the smoke as I brought fire to it once again, twisting it carefully to keep the ember even. While I stuffed the lighter back into my pocket, I turned the stogie around and gazed at the glowing coal as I blew on it, inspecting for runs. Satisfied, I tucked it back in the corner of my mouth and puffed as I leaned forward on the deck railing.
“So, back to Felicity,” I finally said. “She’s seemed kind of edgy—even before she was kidnapped, I mean. You’re sure she feels safe?”
“I never said that your wife feels safe, Rowan,” she answered in a no-nonsense tone. “I said that she does not lack confidence in your ability to protect her.”
“Okay, call me dense, but I don’t see what the difference is.”
“She has her own fear, Rowan.”
“Has she been any better at recognizing hers than I am at mine?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she has.”
“Any chance you could share?”
“No, Rowan. That is something for her to express if she is to come to terms with it herself.”
“You do know that she’s a Taurus, right?”
“Then I suspect that when she decides to express her feelings, you will be hard pressed to miss her point.”
I nodded as I stared out into the falling snow. “Yeah, but will I end up impaled on it is the question.”
* * * * *
“I thought Albright took you off this case?” I asked Ben, keeping my voice low.
My friend had just finished telling me that he’d been in touch with the officers searching the area where the phone call from Porter had originated. Unfortunately, they were coming up empty; of course, I had expected that to be the case.
“Yes and no,” he answered, keeping his voice hushed as well. “I’m not involved in the investigation, but I just got officially assigned to you and Firehair.”
We were standing in the kitchen, both of us working on steaming mugs of coffee. It was probably the best cup I’d had in a month and most certainly the best I’d had today: a rich, flavorful brew derived from freshly ground Kona beans with just a hint of cinnamon and hazelnut in the background. We owed this small pleasure to the fact that Nancy had always been the connoisseur of the drink within our group; therefore, her pantry was always fully stocked with the finer makings of java.
“Bodyguard duty?” I asked before taking a sip of my drink.
He nodded. “Somethin’ like that, yeah.”
“So maybe she had a change of heart,” I offered. “She knows that we’re friends.”
“Dream on, white man.” He shook his head and frowned as he spoke. “She wants ta’ make sure she can find us. It’s her way of keepin’ me under her thumb.”
I nodded in understanding. “If you’re watching us then she knows where you are at all times.”
“Where we ALL are,” he added. “‘Zactly.”
I gave him a quick shrug. “Could be worse.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “At least this way I can keep my finger in without raisin’ too much suspicion.”
“You know, Ben,” I began. “If your connection with me is going to screw up your career…”
“Haven’t we talked about this before?” he interrupted.
“I’m just saying…”
He held up his hand and gave his head a quick shake. “Forget it. My career, my decision, end of story.”
Looking past my friend for a moment, I watched as Felicity re-filled her own cup. She was standing in the pass-thru alcove between the kitchen and the dining room.
Just by looking at her, you couldn’t tell that she was worn out, but I knew better. We were all running on adrenalin, caffeine, and extended second winds; at least she looked good doing it, which was more than I could say for myself.
The comforting sounds of a fire crackling in the fireplace on the other side of the alcove provided the ambient backdrop to the quiet conversations scattered throughout the dining area. The earthy scent of the burning wood filled the air. Outside, snow was continuing to fall in steady curtains of white. Were it not for the circumstances, this just might have been a perfect, laid-back day to sit and visit with friends.
“Helen seems to be fitting right in then.” My wife voiced the observation as she sidled up next to me and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Yeah, that’s my sis for ya’,” Ben returned as he cast a glance back over his shoulder.
As my friend turned back to us, his cell phone began warbling. He plucked it from his belt and inspected the face. “Fuck me, it’s Bible Barb,” he muttered aloud as he glanced around then cocked his head in the direction of the hallway. “I don’t wanna disturb anyone, so I’ll be up front.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He was already answering the phone with a curt, one word admission of his last name as he exited.
“It’s a good thing,” I offered to my wife as I watched Ben leave.
“What is?” she asked.
“Helen fitting in so well. She can lessen the burden on you.”
“Aye, that she can, but I’m their Priestess. It is MY job to be there for them.”
I frowned with concern. “You don’t resent her being here do you?”
“Not at all.” She dismissed my question. “It is just that I ha
ve a responsibility to them. It is something that comes with the title High Priestess, you know.”
“Yes, I know, hon, and you HAVE been there for them,” I soothed. “But you need a break too, and Goddess knows I’m not much help in this department.”
“Aye, you aren’t,” she sighed the matter-of-fact statement. “On top of that, you’re just another worry for me, in and of yourself then.”
Her voice held a slight hint of animosity at the end, leading me to believe the second half of her statement was what bothered her most. I was only slightly taken aback by her brutal honesty. I’d grown used to it over the years.
Back up the hallway, I heard the faint treble of Ben’s cell phone ringing yet again.
“Sorry,” I said.
“No need to apologize,” she told me. “I’m not angry with you. Not about that anyway. I know you’ve as much to deal with as I.”
“But you’re mad at me about something else?”
“Aye, but this is neither the time nor place to discuss it then.”
“Felicity, I know how you are,” I said. “If you don’t let it out, you’ll just build up resentments.”
“Don’t you worry then,” she instructed. “I’ll get over it.”
“You say that now, but I have a feeling I’ll pay for it at some point.”
She agreed with a purposeful nod. “Aye, that you probably will.”
“Well, don’t sugarcoat it.” I offered the comment with its own thin lacquer of sarcasm.
“Aye, I won’t.”
“Uhmm-Hmmm!” The sound of Ben clearing his throat intervened before our conversation could dip any closer to the danger zone. “You two want me to get you some gloves and ring the bell?”
“No,” I said in a quiet tone, chagrined that our verbal discontent had been witnessed.
Felicity simply shook her head.
“That was quick,” I said.
“Yeah. No reason to drag it out. So listen,” my friend began as he reached up and massaged his neck. “There’s been a bit of a change in plans here.”
“She didn’t pull you off this completely, did she?” I asked, shunting my un-quelled annoyance off to another target.
“No,” he returned. “No, she didn’t. Believe it or not, she actually wants you and me to go look at somethin’.”
Felicity immediately pushed away from the countertop next to me and started from the room. As I reached out for her, she shrugged away from my hand and turned. She raised a finger and stared back at me, cold fire in her green eyes. A single tear was advancing across her cheek, and she held her rigid position for a weighty measure of time before she finally spoke. “Aye, go. You go, but you’d best come back.”
With the unmistakable instruction given, she turned on her heel and strode through the pass-thru into the dining room.
“I didn’t say I was going to…” My words trailed off almost immediately as I realized they were falling short of reaching her; not that she would have been paying attention if they had.
“Dammit,” I muttered as the lightning bolt of realization struck me square between my eyes. “I’m not sure, but I think I might have just figured out what your sister was trying to tell me.”
“She’s good for doin’ that kinda shit to people,” Ben affirmed.
“Yes, she is.”
“So, is Felicity gonna be okay?” he finally asked.
“Yeah, eventually,” I told him.
“Should you maybe go talk to her?”
“Not now.” I shook my head. “I’ve been married to her for a long time, Ben. Trust me, this is something that will play out later when we’re alone.”
“You sure?”
“Oh yeah,” I guaranteed him. “I’m sure.”
“How ‘bout you? You gonna be all right?”
“Yeah.” I was still staring after my wife. “Yeah, I think so. I’m just not sure how I feel about being a matador.”
“Do what?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” I reached up and rubbed my temple for a moment. “So what’s the deal? What’s so important that Albright needs us to look at it right now?”
“Well, so anyway,” he stumbled over the words a bit, “so what happened is the phone company managed to peg the number Porter used. It was a cell just like we thought.”
“Well, that’s good, right?” I asked.
“Not for the guy it used to belong to,” he replied.
“You mean he killed someone else already?”
“Not exactly.” He shook his head. “More like before.”
“Before?”
“Yeah.” He visibly grimaced as he spoke, both looking and sounding as if he really didn’t want to tell me. “We’ve actually known about this guy for a few days.”
“A few days?” I almost couldn’t believe what he was saying. “What do you mean you’ve known about him for a few days? Why haven’t you said anything?”
“Look, Rowan,” Ben huffed. “The Major Case Squad doesn’t report to you, you know. There was no reason to get you involved.”
I was more than just slightly angered by what I had just been told, and my voice came out as a thin hiss. “But if this happened a few days ago, maybe if I had gotten involved THEN, Randy would still be alive!”
He glanced through the passage into the dining room then back at me with his eyes wide. “Keep your voice down, Rowan,” he ordered in a strained whisper through clenched teeth. “There were reasons you weren’t called.”
“They’d damn well better be good ones,” I hissed back. “Because I lost a friend today and if I could have prevented it…”
“You couldn’t have, so drop it,” he interrupted with the stern instruction.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I glared back at him. I knew I had to trust that what he was telling me was true, but the reality was a hard lump in my throat, and I was finding it hard to swallow.
“Look, Row,” he sighed. “We need to move on this. Carl Deckert from county homicide is waiting for us at the scene right now.”
“Why now?” I demanded, barely managing to keep my voice even and low.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Bee-bee has a bug up her ass about this all of a sudden, and she’s already got Deckert waitin’ for us.”
“I couldn’t care any less about what she wants right now, Ben,” I told him.
“Yo, Kemosabe,” he appealed. “I’m on your side here, but let’s go have a look-see. This is a damn sight better than being banned from the investigation. Maybe you can do some hocus-pocus or somethin’, and we can nail this fuck before anyone else gets killed.”
“So you’re going to let me go at this my way?” I was demanding as much as asking.
“I didn’t say that,” he returned. “I’m not lettin’ you put yourself in danger over this.”
“What about Felicity?” I asked. “I’m not so sure I want to leave her right now.”
“Because of that little deal a minute ago?”
“No, because Porter obviously knows where I am, so I’m sure he knows she’s here too.”
He shook his head and waved me off. “I know what you’re sayin’, but it’s covered. There’s a copper out front and one in the alley.”
I started to object, but he held his hand up to stifle me before continuing. “Let me finish. If that ain’t enough for ya’, Mandalay is on her way over with another Feeb, and they’ll probably be here any minute.”
There were very few people besides him whom I would trust with Felicity’s safety, and FBI Special Agent Constance Mandalay was one of them. I’m certain he was playing that fact as his trump card to my impending objection.
“You’re sure?” I pressed.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he told me. “I talked to her right after I got off the phone with Albright. They’ll probably be pullin’ up about the time we head out the door.”
Back up the hallway, the doorbell chimed as if cued by some ethereal director.
“We
ll?” My friend looked at me expectantly and gave a quick nod as if to say, “told you so.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Okay, I’ll go. Just one thing: How are you going to stop me?”
“Stop you what?”
I didn’t explain. I just closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead as my ever-present migraine sidestepped any attempts to keep it at bay. Even worse, it began inching up the scale. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
CHAPTER 14:
“Kass-perzik-somethin-oww-ski, according to his driver’s license. First name, Joseph.” Ben looked at me and shrugged. “I dunno how the hell to pronounce it. Starts with a K and it’s got some Z’s and W’s in it.”
The ambient temperature inside the house wasn’t much different than it was outside. In fact, it was probably exactly the same. The only thing that made it feel warmer was the shelter itself and thus a reprieve from the wind chill factor.
“So how is it spelled?” I asked as I buried my hands in my coat pockets and worked my fingers to jump-start the circulation.
“Why?”
I shrugged.
He pulled out his notebook and flipped through it for a second. “Shit. Can’t read my own handwriting. Hey Deck,” he called across the room. “You got a spelling on the victim’s name?”
Saint Louis County Homicide Detective Carl Deckert was best described as everyone’s grandfather. He was a thick, round man, aged somewhere in his mid to late fifties. A trimmed crop of fine, grey hair covered his head, and that was often sheltered beneath a fedora with the brim neatly snapped over his brow.
His attitude, forged in a different time, was one filled with manners and kindness. His eyes never lacked the mischievous twinkle of a youngster nor his ruddy face a friendly smile. He usually had something good to say—even under less than perfect circumstances.
His overall appearance and demeanor had to be advantageous in his line of work, because to be honest, if I didn’t already know him, I would never suspect he was a cop. Even if I did, he still came across as someone to whom you could bare your soul.
The Law Of Three: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 12