The End Of Desire: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  “Am I missing something here?”

  “Apparently.”

  I waited for him to expand on his answer, but he simply continued driving in silence. After a moment I prompted, “Well? Would you like to enlighten me?”

  “Look, it’s simple, Row,” he explained. “If I can get suspended, I’ll be freed up ta’ spend my time makin’ sure you and Firehair are safe instead of dependin’ on someone else ta’ do it while I’m off chasin’ dead end leads.”

  “So you’re trying to tell me this is all just part of your grand plan?”

  “Somethin’ like that.”

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “Yeah, probably,” he grunted. “That’s why I’m hopin’ for at least thirty days. I could really use the vacation.”

  * * * * *

  The alarm system began to pulse out its countdown as we came through the front door. I stepped quickly across the room and stabbed in the disarm code on the keypad. It didn’t escape my notice that the display was reading that it had been enabled in the “away” mode, which meant the motion detectors scattered throughout the house were live. This certainly wasn’t the way it should be set if someone were home, which was supposed to be the case.

  “Felicity?” I called out then waited for an answer.

  We had been gone for almost two hours, and the crime scene van had no longer been parked in front of the house when we arrived. I had glanced around after climbing out of Ben’s vehicle but hadn’t seen any local police in the vicinity either, which bothered me quite a bit, given that Ben had arranged for them to be there keeping watch.

  Getting no reply, I called out again as I headed down the hallway to our bedroom. I was afraid to admit it to myself, but I knew she wouldn’t answer the second time either. The house simply felt empty except for the cats and dogs. I reached the end of the hall and poked my head in through the door. My wife’s overnight bag was sitting on the end of the bed, but judging from its misshapen profile it was obvious that she had yet to put much, if anything, into it.

  “Yo, Firehair!” Ben bellowed as I started back toward the living room.

  I could feel my heart rate beginning to rise. I opened the door to the basement and called down the stairs, “Honey, are you down there?”

  Again, there was no response.

  I shut the door then stepped into the living room where Ben was still standing. “She’s not here,” I said, my voice a twisted mix of anxiety and confusion.

  “Don’t panic, Row,” Ben said. “She set the alarm, so maybe she had to run out for somethin’.”

  “Maybe so,” I replied, trying to believe what he was telling me, but my heart rate continued to ramp upward as I felt the thumping in my chest. “But, she hasn’t even really started to pack, and we were gone for quite awhile. It doesn’t make sense.”

  I’m sure he could sense my growing agitation, and his words reflected as much. “I’m serious, Row. Don’t panic.”

  “Aren’t there supposed to be police watching the house?” I asked.

  “Maybe she’s with ‘em,” Ben suggested as he stepped around me and started toward the kitchen. “Give ‘er a try on ‘er cell phone, and I’ll check ta’ see if ‘er Jeep is here.”

  I nodded reply then advanced across the living room and snatched up the phone from the bookshelf. With a quick stab at the keypad, I quickly dialed her number. While I waited for the connection to be made, I heard the sound of the back door open as Ben headed out to the garage. After a soft click, the handset began to trill with the audible tone of the ringer. A heartbeat later, as the second ring issued into my ear, a syncopated tune began to play from the vicinity of the dining room. I stepped forward and to my left then looked through the archway. There, on the buffet, was my wife’s cell phone.

  Ben was just coming back around the corner as I was hanging up.

  “Jeep’s gone,” he said.

  “And, she left her cell phone here,” I told him, though I was certain he’d heard it.

  My heart now advanced beyond a fast jog and directly into a sprint as panic wrapped its icy grip around my gut. Apparently it was obvious in my face as well because Ben looked at me and held up his hands.

  “Stay calm, Row. Like I said, she probably just went to the store or something.”

  “Dammit, Ben, someone was supposed to stay with her!” I spat.

  “I’m sure they are, hold on a sec.”

  He pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open then thumbed in a number. Placing it up to his ear, he waited a moment then began to speak.

  “Yeah, this is Detective Storm with the Major Case Squad. Can you do me a favor and radio the unit you had watching the Gant household and check somethin’ for me?”

  He waited a moment, turning to face me and nodding reassurance. “It’s fine, Row,” he said. “She probably just needed some girl stuff or somethin’.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

  “Twilight Zone?”

  “It just doesn’t feel right,” I repeated.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” he said, turning his attention back to the phone. “What do you mean you hadn’t dispatched a unit yet? I called it in over two hours ago!”

  He listened for a few seconds then spat, “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “They didn’t send anyone to watch the house?” I asked, distress rising in my voice.

  I knew he wasn’t ignoring me, but he didn’t respond because his cell phone was pressed up against his ear once again, and he was already talking to someone else.

  “Yeah, this is Storm,” he barked. “I need ta’ get a BOLO out on Felicity O’Brien right now…”

  CHAPTER 32:

  “Yeah, ya’ got that? Yeah, Victor, X-Ray, November… That’s right, black Jeep,” Ben said into his phone.

  My friend had made a circuit through the house while calling in the “Be On The Lookout” but hadn’t come up with anything he felt necessary to share. He was now standing back in the living room with his cell still firmly planted against his ear.

  “Yeah… She’s about five-two, around a hundred and five pounds,” he continued. “Long red hair. Really long, like waist length. Yeah. Green eyes. Uh-hmmm… No… Right now we aren’t sure. We have reason to believe she’s being stalked by a woman fitting the same physical description. Yeah, no kiddin’. No, there’s no evidence of it being an actual abduction, but we might wanna treat it as a possible. She was last seen at the house in Briarwood, and that was about an hour ago. Maybe an hour and a half… Yeah, by a coupl’a crime scene techs who were goin’ over the yard… Yeah, had ta’ do with the possible stalker… Yeah. Thanks. Call me at this number if ya’ get anything.”

  My friend folded the device and shoved it into his pocket then simply stared across the room at me. I was sitting on the edge of the sofa, making a concerted effort at remaining calm. So far I had been keeping myself on an even keel, but I wasn’t sure how much longer that would last.

  “What did they say?” I asked after a long pause.

  “In about two minutes, every cop on duty in the metro area is gonna be keepin’ an eye out for ‘er and the Jeep. It’s all good. They’re gonna find ‘er and she’s gonna be just fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Look, Row,” he said. “I know you’re worried, but it’s gonna be fine. I’m tellin’ ya’ we’re pro’bly overreacting as it is.”

  “I’m all about overreacting when it comes to my wife’s safety.”

  “Believe me, I know that. Hell, ta’ be honest I’m impressed your head hasn’t spun all the way around yet.”

  “Give me a minute,” I replied. “It could still happen.”

  “Did ya’ check her schedule? Maybe she had an appointment or somethin’.”

  I shook my head. “There was nothing on the calendar. But, I will admit that she sometimes forgets to write them down where I can find them.”

  “Well, ‘er purse is gone. Could y
a’ tell if she took any equipment?”

  “No,” I replied. “I looked, but I couldn’t begin to tell you what all she has down there, so she could walk out with a case full of stuff and I’d never be able to tell. Besides, she usually keeps a case in the Jeep as it is.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be fine,” he offered again.

  I simply nodded then got up from my seat and walked over to the open door. I wiped my hand across the opaque condensation that had formed on the glass of the storm door and silently watched the world continuing on about its business outside.

  “You’re thinkin’ about it, aren’t ya’?” Ben asked after a long silence.

  I knew all too well the “it” to which he was referring. It was something that haunted me every December, especially on the anniversary, which was only a bit over a week away on Christmas Eve. “It” was the night I had returned home from working an investigation with Ben only to find Felicity missing because she had been abducted by a serial rapist. Given the situation, it was hard not to draw a few disturbing parallels.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. “Yeah, I am.”

  “This ain’t the same, Row,” he told me.

  “Of course it isn’t,” I replied. “He wanted to rape her. Annalise wants to kill her.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he huffed. “There’s no real reason to believe Annalise has anything to do with this. For one, Felicity’s vehicle is gone. For two, like I said, so is her purse. For three, there’s no sign of a struggle. And finally, the dogs weren’t locked up. Firehair had to have left here willingly, you know that.”

  In reality, I knew he was correct. There was absolutely nothing to indicate that Felicity hadn’t simply climbed in her Jeep and left of her own accord. But, even if that was fact, something still didn’t feel right about it.

  “Shouldn’t we be out looking for her?” I asked, surprising myself at how even my voice was remaining.

  “We can if ya’ want,” he replied. “You got an idea where ta’ start?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not really.”

  “Okay,” he replied then waited a measured beat before continuing. “Lemme ask ya’ somethin’… You absolutely sure the hocus-pocus with the doll worked?”

  I turned to face him. “Yeah, why?”

  “Just askin’.”

  I thought about what he’d asked, and my muddied brain managed to match up the pieces. With an obvious accusatory tone infecting my voice, I spat, “You think she might be heading for that bondage club again, don’t you?”

  “Calm down, White Man. I was just askin’,” he replied.

  “I broke that connection,” I continued, intent on making sure he understood. “Miranda isn’t able to use her as a horse any longer.”

  “Okay, so what if Annalise did somethin’? Maybe that thing with the candle. Didn’t ya’ say you thought that’s why Miranda brought ‘er back here?”

  “I don’t even want to entertain that thought.”

  “But, didn’ t you…”

  “No,” I spat. “Don’t even go there.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. I was just askin’.”

  I’m not sure if I was being so insistent for his benefit or my own because whether I wanted to admit it or not, the very same thought had already crossed my mind. My friend had simply been the first to vocalize it.

  “Actually, there’s something else that worries me,” I finally said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Shamus.”

  “Firehair’s dad? What about ‘im?”

  “When Felicity first got arrested, he blamed me. During one of his calls to berate me, he said he had made arrangements to have her deprogrammed once she was out of jail.”

  “Yeah, I remember you sayin’ that. But, I thought I remembered somethin’ about your mother-in-law sayin’ she’d put the kibosh on that?”

  “That’s what she said, but I still try not to underestimate Shamus.”

  He shook his head. “But there’s nothing here to indicate she was abducted, Row.”

  “Maybe he set it up differently,” I speculated. “Maybe he called her and she went over to their house and he had them waiting for her.”

  “With their black helicopter?”

  “Dammit, Ben, don’t make jokes!” I snapped.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but you’re soundin’ like one of those conspiracy nuts. Besides, your father-in-law didn’t call ‘er.”

  “How do you know?”

  “‘Cause there’s nothin’ on your caller ID since well before we left the house, and the only incomin’ call on ‘er cell for the past two days is the one you just made a little while ago.”

  “You checked that?”

  “I’m a cop, Row. Remember? It’s what I do.”

  “What about…”

  He interrupted before I could get the question out of my mouth. “Yeah, I checked ‘er business line, and yours too. No calls from Dad. But, if it’ll make ya’ feel better, I can call and have a unit go by to check.”

  “No…” I said after a moment. “Probably not. Not yet, anyway. If I’m wrong then that will just stir up a big mess all over again.”

  “I agree… and yeah, you’re wrong.”

  “I just don’t get it, Ben. Why would she leave? After everything that’s happened. After what showed up here. She knows it isn’t safe.”

  “We’re talkin’ about Firehair here. You wanna ask that question again or think about it first?”

  “I guess you’re right,” I mumbled then looked back toward the storm door. The condensation had obscured the view once again. “I suppose we’re going to look like idiots when she rolls back into the driveway with groceries or something.”

  “Yes and no,” my friend replied with a sideways bob of his head. “When it turns out ta’ be nothin’, yeah, it might look like an overreaction on the surface; but, under the circumstances, this is all warranted. Besides, ain’t a copper I know of who wouldn’t rather have a call turn out ta’ be nothin’, rather than somethin’. Believe me, we live for that shit.”

  Ben’s cell began trilling in his pocket, so he dug it out and answered it.

  “Yeah, Storm… Uh-huh… Yeah… Where? North or south? Okay, any sign of ‘er? Okay. How’s it look? Yeah. That’s good. Okay. Thanks.”

  I was talking before he had even managed to switch the device off. “What? What is it?”

  “Firehair’s Jeep is sittin’ on the north lot at the Galleria. Call just came in.”

  “That’s less than a mile from here.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Is she…”

  “All they found is the Jeep, Row, but it’s parked and locked. No sign of any foul play. Like I said earlier, she’s probably inside shoppin’. They’re gonna page ‘er. C’mon, grab your coat and we’ll go over there.”

  The drive was short; still, with traffic it took us a handful of minutes before we pulled off the main drag into the entrance of the large indoor mall. Ben turned early and aimed his van across the less crowded portion of the front parking lot before cutting over toward the far side of the shopping center.

  As we rounded the corner and entered the north lot, I spotted Felicity’s Jeep parked at the far end of the first row. Angled in behind it were a Briarwood Police cruiser and a mall security vehicle. As we continued up the aisle, I could see two uniformed officers standing next to the Jeep chatting with a petite woman who was gesturing toward the side entrance.

  My heart skipped a beat before starting to race yet again because, other than her small stature, she looked nothing like my wife.

  * * * * *

  “Why did you do this?” I asked, confusion in my voice.

  “I already told you,” my wife replied.

  “Tell me again.”

  “Because, I don’t want to look like her.”

  I simply stared at her across the kitchen, unsure of what else to say. As it turned out, I had been mistaken. The wo
man talking with the two officers on the mall parking lot was, in fact, Felicity. In my defense, however, I had a valid reason for not recognizing her at a distance. The truth is, I even had a reasonable excuse for doing a double take when I got out of the van less that twenty feet away from her.

  “I still can’t believe you had the police looking for me,” she countered.

  “Why not?” I asked. “After what happened today? Not to mention that you told me you were going to lock the door and finish packing, but then I come home and you’re gone. What kind of reaction did you expect?”

  “Aye, you have a point. I suppose I should have left you a note.”

  “You shouldn’t have gone out to begin with.”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  “Maybe I am, but I think maybe you’re under reacting.”

  She simply shrugged and continued to look at me with her head cocked to the side, a mildly curious look in her eyes. I don’t suppose I could blame her. I was still staring at her, just as I had been for several minutes. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had blinked.

  “It will grow back, Rowan,” Felicity announced after a moment then leaned back against the counter and folded her arms across her chest. “Really, it will.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I replied. “But… I don’t know…”

  Her cascading tresses, which once reached down to her waist, now came to a blunt end just below her shoulders. While there was still a good bit of body to them in the form of a rippling wave, the loosely spiraling curls were all but gone as well. However, radical as those changes were, even they paled in comparison to the fact that her color had gone from fiery red to inky black.

  As she looked back at me now, her ivory complexion appeared ghostly white beneath the stark contrast of the straight-banged, retro hairstyle. I knew I didn’t have a say in the matter. It was her hair, not mine. But, I’d never seen her with short hair before, much less any color other than her natural red, so I was more than just a little taken aback.

  “But what?” she asked, prompting me for the rest of my aborted sentence.