The Law Of Three: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  “How fortunate for me,” I quipped.

  “I’m thinkin’ maybe, yeah, it is,” he said with a grin.

  “So what do we do now?” I asked.

  “We relax and wait for this to all be over,” Constance advised. “Then you try your best to forget this day ever happened.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” I replied.

  “We can try,” Felicity pleaded.

  “Honey…” I reached for her, and she slipped past Ben to melt into me. Her own energy was a chaotic turmoil, and it blended easily with mine, leaving us both unbalanced and preternaturally askew.

  “It’s all but over, Rowan,” Ben offered. “They’re gonna take this asshole down. No two ways about it. He’ll go out in cuffs or a body bag. His choice.”

  “I understand that,” I told him. “But what about Star? What if SHE is the one who ends up in a body bag?”

  “That’s why HNT has the ball now,” Constance answered. “It is their job to keep that from happening.”

  “But, they have to understand that I am who he wants,” I returned in a matter-of-fact tone. “There’s no other bargaining for them to do.”

  “Believe me, Rowan, they know that,” she assured me. “But that is simply not how things are done.”

  Her phone chirped again. I had lost count of the number of phone calls coming in and out of this apartment throughout this evening, so this was just another to add on to the pile.

  “Mandalay,” she answered, speaking into the device almost as soon as she flipped it open.

  We all stood there, gathered in the kitchenette as if seeking some type of comfort within our small clutch. Safety in numbers, shared empathy, I don’t know. I couldn’t tell if it was actually working or just feeding the tension.

  The expectant silence grew, as our only access to even her side of the conversation came in the form of reflexive nods occasionally coupled with scattered “yes’s” and “uh-huh’s.” After a trio of minutes, during which our edgy anticipation swelled into a thick bubble around us, she finally uttered something more than a monosyllabic response.

  “Are you absolutely sure?” she asked whoever was at the other end of the line, her features creasing into a frown. “You want both of them? No, I’m sure he will be agreeable to it. Okay. Thanks, bye.”

  She closed the cover on the silver device and clipped it back to her belt before looking at all of us. Then she allowed her gaze to center on me.

  “That was the HNT,” she said. “The lead hostage negotiator wants us to bring you and Felicity to the scene.”

  CHAPTER 30:

  A gelid rush of foreboding injected itself directly into my heart and spread quickly through veins and arteries with each successive beat. My entire body took on a frightening chill. Hollowness filled my chest, and after a moment, my brain pointed out that I wasn’t bothering to breathe. I released my mental grip on the feeling of icy terror and allowed my autonomic reflexes to continue once again unimpeded.

  Even though I’m certain that my heart had never actually stopped beating, I would swear that I felt it stutter a bit as it seemed to restart.

  I looked at Agent Mandalay and then slowly shook my head. “Call him back and tell him I said no.”

  “Do what?” Ben asked with confusion in his voice.

  “But, Rowan, I thought you…” Constance began.

  “Me, yes,” I cut her off. “Felicity, no way. She’s not getting anywhere near that sick bastard.”

  “Rowan…” Felicity brought her head up as she spoke.

  “Listen, Row, the scene is secure,” Ben offered.

  “I don’t care,” I returned. “What do they want her there for anyway?”

  “To interview,” Mandalay said. “The same reason they want you.”

  “Interview about what?”

  “Porter,” she returned. “He called her today, so she’s had direct contact with him as well. You need to understand, Rowan, the HNT looks for every piece of information they can possibly use. No matter how insignificant you may think it seems, they want to know about it.”

  “Fine. Then she can tell them everything he said to her by phone if they want to know that badly,” I asserted.

  “Rowan,” Felicity interjected again. “You’ll not be going without me then.”

  “Honey, you know as well as I do what Porter has done. I’m not willing to take the chance.”

  “Aye, but I am.”

  I shook my head vigorously. “No, Felicity, I can’t accept that.”

  “Rowan,” Mandalay began, “I can understand your concern, but think about it. There are over two dozen police officers on the scene, and that isn’t even counting FBI and SWAT. Now, where else could Felicity be safer?”

  “Right here as far as I’m concerned.”

  “I’m going,” Felicity announced.

  “No,” I stated in the most adamant tone I could muster. “If they want me there, fine, but only me, not you. Those are my terms, and they’re non-negotiable.”

  Felicity had pulled back slightly and now fixed me with an unforgiving stare as she piped up again. “Aye, but they’re not yours to dictate, Rowan. If you are going then I am going. Those are MY terms.”

  “Felicity…”

  “No,” she insisted, her glare hardening. “Best you not argue with me on this because you won’t win.”

  “But…”

  “Aye, Caorthann, I said no.” The stern quality that filled her voice when she cut me off was as much magickal as it was earthbound, maybe even more so.

  This time, her use of the Gaelic version of my name was coupled with an undeniable energy. She meant to drive home a point, and she did so with earnest. She was correct. I couldn’t win, and continuing to argue was just a waste of time. My desire to protect her was being trumped by her desire to protect me. Any other cards I could play would only bring us to an impasse.

  I frowned and brushed my hand across the lower half of my face then shifted my gaze back and forth between Ben and Mandalay as I spoke. “Okay, but I want her as far removed from this as possible.”

  “Both of you will be,” Mandalay replied. “The HNT is just going to be interviewing you, that’s all. So you definitely won’t be in any line of fire.”

  “I’ll get our coats,” Felicity announced, pulling away from me and skirting around Ben as he shuffled to the side.

  “It’s gonna be okay, white man,” my friend told me.

  “I hope so,” I replied. “I don’t have a very good feeling about this.”

  “Twilight Zone?” he asked.

  I centered on the anxious energy that was using my spine as a multi-lane thoroughfare and felt the ache rise inside my skull as my scalp tightened. “Yeah, definitely.”

  Constance tried to assuage my obvious fear. “It’s going to be okay.” She gave me a slight smile then looked over to Ben. “We can take my car. Where’s your coat, Storm?”

  “On the couch.” He gave a nod back toward the living room. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” she answered as she stepped around him. “Just don’t get used to it.”

  “Jeez, Mandalay, now you sound like my wife,” he jibed over his shoulder.

  Her voice filtered back to us. “I knew I really liked Allison for some reason.”

  Ben swiveled his head back and focused on me. He stared at me in silence for a moment then jutted his chin toward me in a quick gesture as he brought his hand up to gingerly smooth back his hair.

  “You seein’ somethin’?” he asked quietly. “One of those visions?”

  “No. Just feeling some stuff right now.”

  He gave me a questioning look. “So can’t you do some hocus-pocus or something?”

  “I wish I could.”

  “What about tossin’ some salt around?” he asked. “I’ve seen you two do that. Ain’t that some kind of protection thing?”

  “Yes it is,” I replied. “But trust me, this apartment has already been salted enough to give an elep
hant high blood pressure.”

  “So there’s nothing you can do?”

  “Stay grounded,” I replied. “That’s about it, I guess.”

  “Well do that then,” he instructed. “So does this have anything to do with all that floppin’ around you were doin’ earlier?”

  “I don’t know, Ben.” I reached up and began massaging my scalp again. “Maybe. I still have no idea what that is all about. All I can say is that something about this just feels wrong. It’s almost like it’s a big puzzle, but there’s a crucial piece missing that would bring it all together and let you see what the picture is. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Well, I don’t know about a puzzle, white man,” he echoed. “It seems pretty straightforward to me.”

  I shook my head. “No. There’s something hinky about all of this.”

  “Hinky how?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know.”

  “You ain’t helping me here, Row.”

  “That’s pretty much the theme of the day, isn’t it?” I retorted. “I’m sorry. This is all just going pretty fast, you know?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “I know.”

  I started to glance at my watch out of reflex and realized that I hadn’t put it back on after my shower since it had been shattered. I turned and looked over my shoulder at the automatic coffeemaker. The digital display shimmered a five into a six as I watched, displaying the time as 8:36.

  “Is it really that late?” I asked aloud.

  “Uh-huh,” Ben grunted. “Long day, huh? You get much sleep earlier?”

  “I got a few hours, I guess, but they weren’t exactly quality.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much. So, maybe all this is just the exhaustion and stress.” He offered the second half of his observation with a shrug.

  “Maybe,” I verbally agreed, although in my head, I doubted it. Then I gave him a serious stare. “Listen, I need to ask you a favor.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Felicity,” I said. “I need to know she’s going to be taken care of.”

  “You’ll both be safe, white man,” he reiterated. “We already told ya’ that.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” I replied. “I mean if something goes wrong.”

  “You ain’t talkin about what I think…” He let his voice trail off as he furrowed his brow.

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “If something happens to me, I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of Felicity.”

  “Nothing is gonna happen to you, Rowan.” He informed me with absolute conviction in his voice while thrusting his splayed hand at me for effect. “They’re just gonna interview you.”

  “But just in case.”

  “Don’t be sayin’ this shit, Row,” he demanded. “Because if you’re not gonna stick to the plan, you ain’t goin’. Hear me?”

  “Just promise me.”

  “Awww, Jeez, Rowan,” he said. “Tell me you’re going to play by the rules here.”

  “Please, Ben?” I appealed. “I need you to do this.”

  “Okay, yeah,” he returned. “You know we would anyway. You two are family to Allison and me. But, I’m tellin’ you that nothing is gonna happen, and if you try to do something stupid, I’ll cuff you to the bumper of a patrol car; AFTER I kick your ass. Got me?”

  “Yes, Ben, I understand.”

  “I’m not kidding, Row.”

  “Yeah. Me either.”

  * * * * *

  “Maybe I’m wrong here, but shouldn’t we have some lights flashing and sirens blaring?” I asked.

  We had just pulled out of the parking lot of the apartment complex and onto the main drag with Constance behind the wheel and Ben riding shotgun. Felicity and I were parked in the back seat of the sedan, with me positioned behind Mandalay since Ben’s seat was pushed back as far as it would go. My petite wife had even shifted more toward center in order to have any legroom at all.

  We were belted in, and I had been fully expecting a mad dash through the city as soon as we began moving. Instead, Mandalay accelerated smoothly into traffic and joined the ebb and flow with less urgency than would be attributed to a trip to the local shopping mall.

  “No big hurry,” she said over her shoulder. “We’ll be there in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  “What do you mean no big hurry?” I repeated the comment back to her, certain that I had misunderstood. “Did I miss something here?”

  “It’s all part of the ‘game’, Rowan,” she explained. “The longer they drag this out, the better position they will be in to negotiate.”

  “Porter isn’t playing by their rule book,” I insisted, trying to keep my emotions from assuming control and forcing me to escalate as they had done before. “I think they might want to consider a different strategy.”

  “They know what they’re doin’, white man,” Ben offered with a diagonal glance back at me. “It’s their job.”

  I sat back in the seat and grumbled. “I’m telling you that they are wrong. This isn’t the same.”

  “I know it’s hard,” Constance spoke again. “But you really need to relax, Rowan. Hostage scenarios don’t typically resolve in a matter of minutes. You are usually looking at several hours. Sometimes even days.”

  “Not this one.”

  “If the situation changes, someone will contact us,” Ben told me. “Unless that happens, there’s no reason for a Code Three response. So just sit back and enjoy the ride. You’re gonna be wishin’ for a little solitude once they start grilling you. Trust me.”

  I crossed my arms and shut my mouth. I appeared to be locked into a no-win situation with everyone this evening, so I decided not to press any harder. It would only serve to get me riled up.

  I hadn’t heard a peep out of Felicity, so I looked over at her and saw that she was fidgeting with the memory card on a professional-series digital camera. She never went anywhere without at least some type of photographic device at her disposal even if it was just the high-end point-and-shoot she always kept in her purse.

  I continued to watch as she stared intently at the display on the back of the piece of equipment while expertly stabbing at the controls with her thumbs.

  She had once told me that looking at the world from behind a lens made her feel safe. She could remain detached while still seeing everything. Sometimes, by becoming one with that intensity of focus, she would transition beyond the frame. The camera would become a microscope for her third eye, bringing into view things unseen in the physical realm.

  As she switched the camera off and stuffed it back into her equipment bag, I made a mental note to stay out of the way if I noticed her looking through it anytime in the near future.

  * * * * *

  Fifteen minutes into the trip, we were moving along in what passed for the center lane of the highway. We had actually been making good time considering the icy condition of the roads and obscured dividing lines. Fortunately, traffic had been light due to the weather and time of night.

  That bit of luck seemed to be expended, however. Up ahead of us, brake lights were suddenly beginning to announce themselves in dusky pairs, and the congestion was rapidly increasing.

  I was pressed back into the seat, my face tilted upward and my eyes inspecting the dark headliner for lack of anything better to do. I felt the vehicle beginning to slow and canted my head forward.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Sshhh,” Mandalay admonished as she reached over and turned up the volume on the radio.

  “…And we have a report of a multi-vehicle accident with injuries on eastbound Interstate Forty-Four at Jefferson,” an announcer’s voice issued from the speakers. “All lanes are shut down, so you might want to avoid that area for the time being. Also, there are reports of black ice on…”

  “Friggin’ wonderful,” Ben proclaimed. “Guess we better go ahead and exit pretty quick, or we’ll get caught up in that mess.”

  “That would probably be best,” Constance agreed. �
��If we take the next exit, we could cut over and take Market down to Memorial.”

  “Yeah, sounds like a plan,” he replied.

  Mandalay’s cell phone had begun to sing its tune as Ben was answering her. She reached for it as she glanced over her shoulder to make a quick visual check before changing lanes. She canted the wheel and eased the sedan over to the right and then flipped the device open and put it against her ear.

  “This is Mandalay,” she said.

  The swath of bright headlights that suddenly illuminated the cabin of the vehicle seemed horribly out of place to me. I squinted to block them out. I was still trying to wrap my brain around why such intense light was coming at me from the driver’s side of the car when the world as we knew it fell apart.

  CHAPTER 31:

  The mournful shriek of metal against metal filled my ears directly behind the explosive crunch of the other car slamming into ours. I was tossed hard to the side, my arms flailing in front of me as I reached for something to hold on to but found only handfuls of air.

  I heard Felicity screaming on my right as the inertia was transferred to the rear end of our vehicle, causing it to whip wildly around on an off-centered axis. The safety belt bit into my shoulder and constricted around my waist as I strained against it.

  “Holy shit!” Ben’s voice boomed from the front seat.

  I caught a quick glimpse of Mandalay expertly throwing hand over hand to veer the sedan into the direction of the skid in an attempt to bring it back under control.

  I threw my right arm up and across the seatback, stretching it behind Felicity as we continued to pitch to the right. Out of reflex, I hugged her tight and pulled my forearm up around her head just as the other vehicle made a three-quarter spin to clip us once again with its rear end.

  The additional force of the second hit propelled us again to the right, threading me straight out of my safety harness as my wife and I hammered into the passenger side door. My reflex had come just in time as my forearm took the brunt of the strike instead of Felicity’s head.