The Law Of Three: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  Felicity was still in the process of making herself presentable before coming out—her words, not mine—and I swung the door shut to give her some privacy. I wasn’t paying all that much attention to what was going on up the hallway as I exited, but his voice was urgent and the instruction concise. The energy forming the sentence told me that I needed to pay heed.

  I looked up and saw immediately that he had positioned himself at the opening of the short corridor. His back was to me, and his left hand was extended behind, motioning me to stop. I caught a quick glimpse of his right hand and saw that it was filled with his sidearm.

  My heart fluttered and hardness filled my throat as my mouth went almost instantly dry. Unencumbered fear raced from my brain to my stomach and brought more life to the already churning bile. Each of my muscles tensed in unison as I froze, making my knees suddenly feel weak as they locked.

  An insistent series of thumps sounded from the front door.

  Beyond my friend, I could see Agent Mandalay—her hand wrapped securely about her forty-caliber Sig Sauer and her arm stiffly positioned to repel a close-quarter hostile entry.

  I caught my breath as I felt the tension thicken. Ben raised his Beretta and assumed a solid firing posture in a single fluid motion.

  “Tell Felicity to stay in the bedroom,” my friend called over his shoulder, keeping his voice low.

  My voice was caught in my throat, and I found myself unable to move. He glanced back at me quickly.

  “Just stay behind me, Rowan.”

  I watched on as Mandalay reached out with her free hand, gripped the doorknob, and then brought her eye toward the security peephole.

  Sharp pain arced through my body as my muscles executed the impossible task of tightening even more. I was holding my breath, and my chest was beginning to burn. I heard the latch disengage behind me as Felicity twisted the knob on the bedroom door and began to swing it open.

  My immediate thought was to turn and push her back into the room, but I remained frozen. I heard the whoosh of air as she pulled the barrier farther aside, and I shot the hot breath from my lungs as I forced myself to act. I felt my arm unlock—first at the elbow, then at the shoulder. My waist broke free and started to twist as I began to move. Fortunately, I was still looking forward when Mandalay’s shoulders fell to a relaxed position. I stopped myself and jerked as my muscles tensed again. Constance carefully holstered her weapon as she glanced away from the peephole and back to Ben, just as another knock sounded.

  “It’s your lieutenant,” she said with a note of relief.

  “Friggin’ wunnerful,” he muttered, but he still relaxed noticeably.

  “Row? What’s going on?” Felicity’s voice came from behind me, couched with a slight hint of fear.

  “Lieutenant Albright appears to be dropping in on us,” I replied as my heart eased back to a normal rhythm.

  Felicity screwed up her face in disgust. “Aye, that saigh? Do we have to let her in?”

  “That what?” Ben asked.

  “Saigh,” she replied as if the Gaelic word was common knowledge. “You know. Bitch.”

  “No kiddin’?”

  “Aye.”

  “Hmph, I gotta remember that one,” Ben muttered then called back to her. “Well, trust me, Felicity, I’m not real excited about her bein’ here myself.”

  Mandalay twisted the knob on the deadbolt and unlatched the swing bar security lock then swung the door open. Lieutenant Albright stood on the opposite side, a scowl on her face and her hand raised in preparation to knock once again.

  “Just exactly what is going on in here?” she demanded as she breezed in through the open door, instantly locking her eyes on Ben. Her frown deepened measurably the moment she noticed he was in the process of stowing his sidearm in his shoulder rig. She didn’t even bother to acknowledge Mandalay.

  “We were just being cautious,” the petite FBI agent announced to the back of the lieutenant’s head.

  Albright swung around to face her. Constance shot her a forced smile as she arched her eyebrows.

  “Do I know you?” Albright demanded. “Which department are you with?”

  Mandalay reached into her jacket and produced a folding leather case which she deftly flipped open with one finger. She thrust the badge and federal ID out at arm length and then made a great show of introducing herself. “Special Agent Constance Mandalay, Federal Bureau of Investigation.” She smiled sweetly once again then as she snapped the badge case closed and slipped it back into her pocket she adopted a mocking tone. “We met this morning, by the way. I guess you were just too busy to remember.”

  I couldn’t see the look on the lieutenant’s face, but I made a mental note to ask Constance about it when this was all over because I am certain that it was priceless. I heard Ben stifle a snort and couldn’t help but turn one corner of my mouth up in a partial grin. Even with everything that was going on, I still appreciated the underlying humor in the moment.

  Albright snapped her head around at the noise and landed her frosty stare on Ben then moved it to Felicity and me.

  “This is a secure building,” she finally announced, moving farther into the room as she spoke. “Don’t you think you were going a little overboard?”

  “Not in my assessment, Lieutenant,” Ben returned, his voice strained. “Porter got the phone number here somehow, so I’m not puttin’ anything past ‘im.”

  “I am well aware that he has the telephone number,” she said. “However, that is a far cry from him actually showing up here.”

  Ben shrugged. “Judgment call.”

  “Which is exactly why I removed you from this case to begin with,” she snorted. “Your lack of judgment.”

  She let out an angry breath and then looked him up and down as if inspecting a soldier in formation.

  “You shouldn’t even be here, Storm,” she chided as she waved her hand at him in a dismissive gesture. “Look at you.”

  “I can still do my job, Lieutenant,” he answered evenly.

  “How long have you been on duty today, Detective?” she pressed.

  “That’s irrelevant.”

  “I am not authorizing any overtime for this you know.”

  “I don’t remember askin’ for any.”

  She wasn’t getting the reaction she obviously wanted, so her anger grew with each sentence.

  She glared at my friend and said, “I just want to be absolutely certain that you understand that. Am I clear?”

  Ben spat his reply, “Crystal.”

  “Feel the love,” Mandalay muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Albright ignored her, but Felicity snickered, and my grin spread wide enough that I found it necessary to lower my head and turn it to the side in order to hide from the lieutenant’s scrutiny. At this point, the stress had been so cloying, for so long, that the momentary release combined with our exhaustion had made us somewhat giddy. There was still a nervous overtone to the transpiring events, no doubt about that, but it was impossible not to be amused by Mandalay’s sardonic observation. Of course, the lieutenant immediately put an end to it.

  “Mister Gant,” Albright snarled. “I do not think you are in any position to find this amusing. Nor you Miz O’Brien.”

  “Don’t lecture me, Lieutenant,” I answered. “I’ve had more than enough for one day, and I’m in no mood for it right now.”

  She unsheathed the sharp edge of her voice as she glared at me. “Gant, if I were you I would take a different tone. As it stands now, you will be very lucky if you are not charged with accessory to murder.”

  “Do what?” Ben barked.

  I shook my head, and my eyes involuntarily squinted as obfuscation took control of my face. “Excuse me?”

  “Your telephone exchange with Porter was utterly irresponsible,” she detailed, pointing at me with a stiff index finger. “The comments you made regarding Miss Sullivan and the lengths to which you endeavored to antagonize Porter may very well cost that you
ng woman her life.”

  “Awww, Jeez…” Ben muttered.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded. “How do you even know what was said?”

  Albright folded her arms across her chest and continued glaring at me.

  “The phone’s tapped, white man,” Ben said aloud as he reached up to smooth back his hair. He caught himself once again, but this time he lifted his other hand and began tearing away the gauze wrappings just as I had earlier predicted. I was mildly surprised that it had taken him this long.

  “Sorry, Rowan,” Constance added. “We did it after he called the Harper residence. SOP. We didn’t really expect him to call here, but we couldn’t take the chance that he wouldn’t. I was going to tell you, but we got sidetracked.”

  “Okay,” I returned. “I guess I shouldn’t be overly surprised by that. So exactly what is your problem, Lieutenant?”

  “And I quote,” she said. “‘Then what exactly makes you think that I am going to give a damn about some insignificant woman’s life,’ end quote.”

  I stared back at her. “You’re just as bad as Porter when it comes to taking things out of context, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t you dare compare me to that sick individual, Gant,” she ordered.

  “Listen to me, Lieutenant,” I took on my own hard edge. “When this SOB starts calling you and threatening your life, and more importantly the life of your spouse…” I paused to suck in a breath and try to temper my composure somewhat. “…Eviscerates and kills one of your friends, then kidnaps someone else you know and threatens to do the same to them, THEN you can say whatever you want to him. Until that happens, what you can do is get off my ass.”

  “You are pushing it, Mister,” she threatened.

  “Lady, the only one pushing it here is you,” I barked. “Now get out.”

  Ben cleared his throat in a loud burst and then mumbled, “Calm down, Row.”

  Albright raised her voice. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Get out of here before I throw you out.”

  Ben cleared his throat again and shot me a warning glance. “Shut. Up. Rowan.” He quietly voiced the instruction in a purposeful cadence, but it was too late. I was already well on my way over the line.

  Albright cocked one eyebrow into a shallow arch, and from where I stood it appeared as though a thin smile passed briefly across her lips.

  She held her voice even as she spoke. “Did you just threaten me, Mister Gant?”

  “Threat, promise, whatever,” I responded. “Take it how ever you want. What I can tell you for a fact is that if you were a man I’d be escorting you out, if you get my meaning.”

  Albright reached inside the open front of her trench coat and slipped her hand toward her back. When she withdrew it, there was a bright clink of metal against metal, and a pair of handcuffs rested in her tight grip.

  “Lieutenant,” Ben spoke up. “Don’t do this.”

  She glanced at him with a look of contempt but didn’t respond to the plea. Instead, she snarled, “Get out of the way, Storm.”

  With that, she fixed her stare on me and started across the room. She didn’t have much distance to cover, and before I could blink, she was standing in front of me. In a quick motion, she took hold of my wrist and twisted. A searing lance of pain drove inward through my left shoulder as she wrenched my arm behind my back in a rough motion. I grunted at the discomfort as she continued to lever my forearm up until my wrist rested between my shoulder blades. I quickly turned my head in defense of my nose as she shoved me forward, and my face slammed against the wall.

  Felicity had been elbowed out of the way, and my gaze met hers as my head turned. I could see that another bout of fear and anger was welling behind her tired eyes.

  My wife quickly darted her head away and yelped, “Ben, do something!”

  I could hear my friend behind me trying to soothe her. “Calm down, Felicity. We’re gonna fix this.”

  She turned back to me, her eyes wild and then panned her glare on to the lieutenant as she launched into a violent-sounding string of Gaelic. “Fek tú Saigh! Loscadh is dó ort! Damnú ort! Tú tuaireapach! An-duine! Tú strìopach! Go n-ithe an cat thú, is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat! Tú féad póg mo thóin saigh!”

  I only picked up a few of the words; considering what I actually did understand, it was for the best that she had chosen Gaelic for the diatribe.

  “Felicity! Honey! It will be okay.” I tried to reassure her as she spat the curses. “Call Jackie and tell her…”

  Before I could get the instructions for our attorney out of my mouth, Albright barked, “Shut up, Gant!”

  Felicity drew closer and launched another expletive-ridden sentence at her, “An cac capaill, saigh! Go hifreann leat!”

  Thankfully, Ben took hold of my wife’s arm and pulled her away, interposing himself between her Irish temper and the lieutenant before this could escalate to a physical level. I wasn’t so certain that I would trade places with him at the moment.

  That was, of course, until the real pain started.

  Agony shunted into the center of my brain as my ears began to fill with the sound of rushing blood. My teeth clenched hard, and the horrid metallic tang from earlier in the day returned in force. I bucked against my body’s sudden desire to posture and fall to the floor.

  Sharp pain bit into my wrist as Albright slapped the edge of the handcuff against it. I focused on that sensation, using it to divert the inexplicable seizure I felt approaching. The sound of the metal teeth ratcheting grated in my ears as she snapped the circlet shut and continued to tighten the restraint until it pinched my flesh. Still holding me pinned against the wall, she grasped my free arm and yanked it behind my back as well.

  Her hand pressed deep into my back, and her touch felt cold. I involuntarily seized on the sensation and immediately felt intense alarm. I gasped a startled breath and closed my eyes.

  Distorted, three-dimensional shapes ricocheted through my brain, layering atop one another in jerky, freeze-frame motions. As they joined, I could begin to make out a defined image. In a sudden burst of light, I found myself staring at a contrasty countenance, inverted though it was. Hanging before me in the void was a woman seated upon an ornate throne. A crown rested atop her head, and her vestments were regal, those of royalty. Even though the image is inverted, her dark eyes seem to be looking down upon me imperiously. In her right hand, she is holding forth a shining sword.

  I knew immediately that I had seen this image before. It was the face of a tarot card—specifically, the Queen of Swords.

  My eyes snapped open and locked on the wall. Still, the afterimage floated in the empty space before me, in crisp focus, as clear as a framed photograph. All sound around me began to echo languidly in my ears as the light in the room flared then dimmed.

  “You are under arrest, Mister Gant,” Lieutenant Albright announced. Everything became surreal as I struggled to keep myself in this reality. Voices began to slur, and all sound took on the quality of mud. When she continued, her voice came thick and slow—the words blending into one another as they thudded against my eardrums. “Yooouuu haaaaavvve ttthheee rrriiiigggghhhtttt tttoooo rrrreeemmmaaaiiinnn ssiiilleennntt. Ifff yooouuu gggiiivvvee uuuupp…”

  CHAPTER 26:

  I wasn’t willing to let this happen again.

  Not now. And, definitely not with Albright here.

  I sucked a deep breath in through my nose and struggled to ignore the pains that seemed to be checking in from every inch of my body. I held the breath for a few seconds and then began allowing the air to flow out between my lips in a slow stream. Inside my head, I began my bid for control.

  My snap decision was to counter whatever was happening to me with the simplest defense I could imagine. Mutely, but with great concentration I began to recite the alphabet, backwards.

  I closed my eyes and focused a small part of myself on maintaining a steady cadence with my breathing. In through my nose, out through
my mouth, repeat. Z, Y, X, W… In nose, out mouth, repeat… V, U, T, S… Breathe in, breathe out, repeat… R, Q, P, O…

  What I was doing was simple. It was textbook, obvious. It was also something that in my off-kilter state, I had been forgetting to do. I was grounding and centering—this was Psychic Self-Defense 101.

  The rush in my ears began to fade, and the Doppler distortion of sound accordioned in upon itself, collapsing everyone’s words into tonal reality. For what had to be the first time today, I felt almost relaxed. Pains were still assaulting me from every corner of my being, but they were tangible pains and real aches—discomforts born of the physical realm instead of the ethereal. In a bizarre sense, I welcomed them.

  “I believe you might want to re-think this action, Lieutenant.” Mandalay’s voice worked its way into my ears through the various commotions. As close as I could figure, she was somewhere behind me and to the right.

  I opened my eyes and could see that Ben was still restraining Felicity with as much care as he could, considering her angered state. I could barely hear him talking to her—or trying to talk to her at least—as she continued to vent poignant comments in Gaelic, occasionally intermixed with colloquial Irish profanity.

  “Stay out of this,” Albright barked at Agent Mandalay, then pressed the other cuff against my still free wrist.

  “I am very serious about this, Lieutenant,” Mandalay continued, undaunted, raising her voice to be heard. “I think that you may be on some fairly shaky legal ground here.”

  “I don’t think that…” Albright started to reply but suddenly shifted her attention to the side. “Storm! Can’t you get her to shut up!”

  “FEK TÙ SAIGH!” Felicity’s voice rose sharply as she twisted around Ben and struggled to break free.

  “Good Lord,” Albright spat. “Cuff her, Storm.”

  “Leave her out of this!” I demanded as I tried to twist my head farther around, only succeeding in giving myself a cramp in my neck.

  Ben answered harshly, “No way, Lieutenant. Not happenin’.”