Thoughts ricocheted around the inside of my skull, and I inspected them with mild interest, still remaining staunchly silent.
There wasn’t even the most miniscule thread of doubt in my mind that what Austin had professed was exactly what Ben had said it was—pure, high-grade fertilizer. There could be absolutely no truth to it whatsoever, and that was simple fact. On top of that, it was fresh ordure. It simply stank too much not to be. But, unfortunately, I also knew that right now, Austin firmly believed every word of the steaming pile he had just shoveled.
Given the conversations I’d had with Shamus in the past twenty-four hours, it really didn’t come as a shock that he would fabricate something to help prop up his plan to have Felicity deprogrammed. The simple fact that he claimed to have contacted an “exit counselor” was enough to tell me that much.
When it came right down to it, even though Felicity had said she was certain her mother would shut him down, in the back of my mind I had been just as certain that she couldn’t. Not this time. I’d hoped that maybe I would be wrong, but the evidence at hand said otherwise.
Still, all I had truly expected from my father-in-law were a couple of fictional diatribes. A few easily discountable rants spewed forth by a man who wasn’t willing to accept anything other than the narrow vision he stubbornly saw as truth. I hadn’t begun to imagine that he would go as far as trying to produce some form of bogus documentation to lend credence to his accusations. Obviously, even with my belief that he wouldn’t back down from his threat, I had still underestimated his conviction. It seemed that every time the man stepped over a line, he would just go find a new one to cross. This line, however, was final. There were none beyond it, not where I was concerned anyway.
The sad thing was, in reality, we were both heading toward the same end—that being the safety and sanctity of Felicity. He was just approaching from a diametrically opposed direction. Unfortunately, one of the important points on his roadmap called for sacrificing me in order to arrive at that final destination.
In a sense I suppose I couldn’t blame him. I had to admit I was more than willing to fall upon my own sword if I believed it would help my wife in the least. But, it wouldn’t and I knew that, especially not the way Shamus was trying to make it happen. In fact, if he kept this up, which was plainly his intention, I wasn’t going to be his only victim. He was going to end up helping put away his daughter as well.
“Hey, Row?” Ben prodded. “You okay?”
The ringing in my ears had died away. When, I didn’t know, but it had been replaced by the ambient noise of the room. I just still wasn’t paying attention to that noise. Words being directed toward me, however, seemed to break that barrier.
Ben’s query served to alert me to the fact that I must have been staring in silence for longer than I’d realized. It took a moment for his voice to register, but when it did I set aside the random thoughts which had been occupying my conscious brain and tried to focus on the world around me. I became suddenly aware that the side of my thigh was wet and cold where the makeshift icepack in my hand was resting against it. But, instead of moving the dripping object, I simply clung to it, trying to use the physical sensation to draw me out of the bizarre catatonia.
I felt a bit like a voyeur, as if I was standing before a window watching something transpire in front of me, all the while hidden from the players in the act. At the same time I felt like I was at the center of it all and that nothing could continue without me.
I began to wonder if what I was experiencing truly was calm, or if it was nothing more than confusion. Of course, blithering insanity was always an option as well, and I can’t say that it was all that unattractive at the moment because this particular reality had been doing its best to kill me.
I briefly considered trying to find my voice; but after a half-hearted search, I decided it was hidden too well. My head didn’t seem overly interested in moving either, so I was unable to even look toward my friend to acknowledge hearing his question. Of course, none of these things really mattered to me. Be it calm, confusion, or flat out insanity that had come over me, I was comfortable for the first time in two weeks, and right now I saw no compelling reason to disturb that feeling. Taking the easy way out, I simply remained focused on Austin.
With no response coming from me for several beats, my brother-in-law drew his own hasty conclusion and cast his eyes toward Ben as he proceeded to gloat. “Aye, the bastard’s got nothing he can say to that.”
It was obvious from the tone of his voice that he was clearly delighted with himself over what he saw as a victory. Since he was still cuffed, he glanced back in my direction and thrust his chin out sharply, directing his next comment to me personally. “Do you, then, Rowan?”
His belligerence had no effect. My tongue continued to lie dormant, and waited. But, it didn’t matter because for some reason I didn’t feel the need to respond. Not to him, anyway.
“Rowan?” Constance made her own attempt to return my attention to the room. Her words fell into the same scrap bucket as everyone else’s, instantly disregarded even as they were heard. It wasn’t until she reached out and laid her hand on my arm that my two worlds once again fully merged.
I suddenly found myself looking down at her hand, regarding the appendage with mild curiosity. As the seconds ticked by, I eventually brought my gaze back up to her face.
“Yeah,” I finally said, finding my voice once again, though I’m certain it would have preferred to remain hidden.
“Don’t listen to him,” she offered.
“I’m not,” I told her.
“You go Twilight Zone, white man?” Ben called out.
“I honestly don’t know,” I said.
Constance continued, “Rowan, I’m sure Felicity didn’t write any such letters.”
“She did!” Austin insisted.
“No, she didn’t,” I announced calmly, rotating my head to bring my unblinking eyes back to bear on him.
“I’ve seen them,” he countered.
“Them,” I repeated. “As in more than one?”
“Aye. I saw them with my own eyes.”
“Yes, I’m sure you did,” I replied with a nod, still keeping my voice even. “But, let me ask you a question. Are you just drunk, or did you suddenly get stupid too?”
“Fek tú,” he snipped bitterly.
“I’m serious, Austin,” I said, ignoring his insult entirely. “You know your sister well enough to realize she isn’t going to be forced into anything against her will.”
“Aye, but if…”
“No,” I cut him off. “There is no but if. They don’t come any more stubborn than Felicity and you know it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he objected. “You found a way to coerce her.”
“Row…” Ben interjected hesitantly. “Just drop it. You’re just wastin’ your breath on ‘im.”
“No,” I replied. “He needs to understand that he’s the only one being coerced here and that it’s not being done by me.”
“Talk all you want, Rowan,” Austin huffed. “I won’t be believin’ your lies anymore.”
I thought about that for a moment. Both of the men were probably correct. Everything I’d been saying was for all intents and purposes being wasted on someone who had already made up his mind that whatever came out of my mouth was one hundred-eighty degrees opposite of the truth.
Of course, I also knew that most of Austin’s attitude, if not all of it, had to be the alcohol talking. He really was a level headed and logical man; right up until a bottle of whisky took hold of his senses. I could only surmise that Shamus had been firmly behind his state of inebriation, effectively putting him into the necessary frame of mind to sway him with the bogus letters. Whether or not it was my father-in-law’s intention for him to come over here and attack me, well that was a matter for debate. While in one sense it wouldn’t surprise me, in another I’m not so certain he would want his hand tipped in my direction just yet.
I fin
ally shook my head and shrugged.
“Yeah, probably not,” I agreed, then looked down and regarded the wet, blood stained towel in my hand. Tossing it onto an end table, I continued to look at my hand for a moment before looking back to my brother-in-law and continuing. “But, do me a favor, Austin. When you dry out, I’ve got a couple of things for you to think over. First, your parents are twenty minutes away. If Felicity really wanted to get away from me, why didn’t she just call them? Or better yet, go over there? Why bother sending letters?”
“If she…”
“Shut up,” I ordered, though my voice remained unruffled. “I’m not finished. You’ve said plenty. It’s my turn.” I paused, and when he didn’t object again I continued. “Now, second, and believe me this is the big one. In fact, this right here is the huge fucking enigma that’s been making my brain hurt ever since you said it. You’re telling me that Felicity sent several letters. Correct?”
“Aye.”
“And I’m guessing since there were several, Shamus got these over a period of time? Weeks? Months? I don’t know, years?”
“Over some time, aye.”
“Why did he wait until now to show them to you?”
He started to reply but didn’t. I could see in his eyes that I’d already set his brain into motion, and what I’d just offered was only a minor point.
“Yeah. Makes you go ‘huh’, doesn’t it?” I said. “In all the times you’ve stood up for me whenever he’s started putting me down or berating me, don’t you think maybe he would have pulled out those letters and proven to you what an evil bastard I am?”
He remained silent, but the look on his face told me I was getting through.
“But, you know, that’s not even the real kicker. Give this one some serious thought and come up with an answer for me, because my evil, coercive brain just can’t wrap itself around the concept. Why is it Shamus didn’t haul his ass over here to rescue his daughter from me the minute he got that very first letter? Hell, from what you’re saying, apparently she asked him to do just that. What was he waiting for?
“I know if I had a daughter, and I had proof that she was in danger, I really don’t think there’s all that much that could stop me from going to her. And, before you say anything, even if he didn’t feel that he wanted a confrontation with me, why didn’t he take the letters to the police? I mean, according to you ‘sacrifices’ were mentioned. Sounds like evidence of illegal activities to me.”
“Yeah, me too,” Ben agreed.
Austin opened his mouth as if to object but once again stuttered to a stop, never fully forming a single word. Now he was really starting to sober up, and while the passage of time and physical exertion had gone a good way toward that end, I knew my questions had played a large part in yanking him back into reality.
The peal of the telephone suddenly issued from across the room, filling the empty wake that had been left behind my words. While the ringer didn’t physically sound any different than any other time, there somehow seemed to be a particular urgency about it that I just couldn’t explain. Even so, I didn’t bother to turn; I simply continued to stare at my brother-in-law. The second ring echoed through the room and still I didn’t move.
“Do you want me to answer that, Rowan?” Constance asked.
My first inclination was to tell her to let the machine get it. After all, it could very well be Shamus, or even the mystery caller who liked hanging up as opposed to talking. However, that odd feeling of urgency tickled the back of my brain and set me wondering just who might be at the other end of the line.
“Yeah,” I replied, never breaking my gaze.
She stepped around me, picking her way through the still trashed house as she headed for the bookshelves. At my back I heard her pick up the handset, cutting off the ringer in the middle of its clamor for attention.
Her voice replaced the bothersome noise a second later, “Gant-O’Brien residence.”
There was expectant pause after her words, but it didn’t last long at all. In fact, only a handful of heartbeats passed before her voice spilled into the room again.
“My God… Are you okay?” she said. “Where are you?”
I was still watching Austin, but I couldn’t help noticing Ben perk up at the words. Turning his attention to look toward her, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
I could only see his half of the silent exchange that went on between them, and what I was privy to turned out to be indecipherable. Finally, Ben furrowed his brow and gave his head a slight shake as if he didn’t fully understand.
“Rowan…” Constance called my name.
Even in my disconnected state, I couldn’t help but notice the strange reverberation woven through her tone. Still, even though I could easily sense it was there, I was unable to tell if the underlying emotion was excitement or fear.
“Yeah?” I answered.
It was then she shattered my newfound calm with the words, “Rowan…it’s Felicity.”
I turned to face her, a full-blown mask of confusion pinned to my features. “Felicity?”
“Felicity?!” Austin yelped.
“You shut up,” Ben ordered him.
Mandalay nodded and held the handset out toward me. I didn’t waste time repeating the question. Stepping around the mess and knocking over a pile of books in the process, I traversed the space between us and took the phone from her.
Placing it to my ear I spoke, “Felicity? What’s wrong?”
“Aye,” her exhausted voice flowed out of the handset. “Could you come pick me up?”
“Pick you up?”
“Aye.”
“What do you…” I started the question then instantly stuttered to a stop as my overactive imagination began putting outlandish scenarios into motion. “Felicity, you didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?” she asked.
“You didn’t break out of jail or something, did you?”
“No,” she replied, her fatigue suddenly even more apparent. I imagined I could see her shaking her head as she made the matter of fact statement. Then, her voice quavered as repressed emotion started to encroach. “They turned me out, Rowan. They…they just let me go.”
I didn’t ask why. There would be time for that later.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the lobby of the Justice Center.”
“Don’t move. I’m on my way.”
I was through the door before the sound of the handset clattering into the base had even begun to fade.
* * * * *
I was only mildly aware that my name was being called. I heard the voices but wasn’t interested in them. When I shot out the door, I took the stairs in twos, hitting the flagstone walk at a fast jog. It was right about that moment I began to notice that even this, the best thing to happen in the past two days, came fully equipped with obstacles.
The first hurdle that came to light was my congested driveway. The car Austin had driven to the house was angled haphazardly across the end of it, effectively blocking my exit.
It took less than a second for me to decide that something so minor wasn’t going to stop me. The only thing that mattered at that moment was getting to Felicity and bringing her home before someone pinched me because I knew as soon as they did, I would wake up and be back in the nightmare. I also knew that such a fear was irrational, but right now I seemed to be living in a world where irrational was the norm, so I didn’t discount anything. I simply wasn’t going to hesitate and give anyone the chance to take this away. I was fully prepared to drive across the front lawn to get out if need be. It’s not like it would have been the first time. I’d done that very thing once before.
Problem solved, or so I thought.
Roadblock number two turned out to be my keys because when I reached into my pocket, they weren’t there. In my single-minded haste, I had run from the house without them. This one wasn’t going to be quite as easy to make disappear. The only way I was going to overcome it was to go back
inside; something I really didn’t want to do because in my mind that constituted a chance for someone to burst this bubble. Unfortunately, there was no way around it.
Of course, this was when I slammed face first into number three, which happened to be Ben and Constance, both of whom had been less than two steps behind me the entire time. And, when I say I slammed into it face first, I mean literally, for when I suddenly turned to go back into the house, the three of us collided.
Now, I had no choice but to pay attention to them.
I don’t know if there was a physical manifestation, but on the inside I know I cringed, fully expecting a horrific reality to descend upon me once again. Fortunately, it didn’t, and the bubble held.
It didn’t take long to become apparent that my plan didn’t fit with the one the two of them had devised between themselves. Since it was two against one, I didn’t have much hope for winning. Besides, I was lucid enough to realize that standing here arguing would just waste even more time, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. So, rather than perpetuate the disagreement in tactics, I quickly gave in, surrendering to their scenario.
Ben volunteered to stay behind and handle the situation with my brother-in-law. Constance drew the duty of taking me to pick up Felicity. Since they had come in her vehicle, and it was currently parked on the street in front of the house, we were unencumbered by both obstacles number one and two. Since they, themselves, were number three, all barriers were now rendered moot.
Before we left, both of them offered to give statements to the local police if I wanted to press charges against Austin. I pondered the idea then decided against it. I suppose in the end I made the choice for Felicity’s sake. Given all that she’d been through, having her husband swearing out a complaint against her brother probably wasn’t something she needed thrown on the pyre right now. I will admit, though, I seriously considered it, even if only for a moment.
What I did tell Ben was that I wanted the man out of my house before I returned. He may well have been on his way to coming around since my posing the questions to him, but I wasn’t interested in taking chances right now. As I was climbing into the passenger side of Constance’s sedan, my friend guaranteed me that he would see to my wish, admitting that it was likely to mean a call to the local police for a patrol car, a Breathalyzer, and a tow truck.
All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 20