All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation

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All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 29

by M. R. Sellars


  “I can ask, but I doubt it will be a problem. I’ve seen a few visitors bringing stuff in.”

  “Good,” she replied then asked again, “Now, you’re certain there’s nothing else we can do?”

  I answered her in a tired voice. “I suppose that when you get here, you could convince your daughter that she doesn’t have a sister.”

  Why I said it was anybody’s guess. I suppose it was just an aberration born of fatigue, concern, the situation, and everything that I’d been told over the past few hours. Either way, the words tumbled out at a nonchalant cadence, and even after I’d spoken them, I didn’t pay the comment any serious regard.

  I sat for a moment and realized that Maggie had not responded at all.

  “Maggie? Are you still there?”

  “Why did you say that, Rowan?” she finally asked, a thin tremor in her voice.

  “What?”

  “Why does Felicity think she has a sister?” she pressed, her tone still off key.

  “It has something to do with the DNA tests the police did,” I replied, intrigued by the trepidation I was detecting. “The sample from the killer matched so closely with hers, the lab says she must have a sister.”

  The charged silence continued on the other end.

  I finally asked, “What’s wrong, Maggie? Is there something we should know? Does Felicity actually have a sister?”

  “I’ll be leaving Austin and Shamus here, then,” she replied slowly, the vocal tremor still in full force. “I should be there in thirty minutes or so. We need to talk.”

  CHAPTER 30:

  “Fourteen days?” I asked, the tone of my voice betraying both my confusion and surprise.

  “Yes, Rowan,” Helen replied. “A seven to fourteen day observation is fairly standard. I would rather err on the side of caution, hence fourteen.”

  My mind had been churning ever since getting off the phone with Maggie, and I had once again been checking my watch far too often in anticipation of her arrival. I actually welcomed the fistful of mundane paperwork as a distraction when Helen presented it—right up until I read this most recent paragraph.

  I shook my head and raised an eyebrow as I looked back at her. “So you’re telling me that if I sign this, my wife is stuck here for a minimum of two weeks with no way out?”

  “No,” she replied. “I am saying that you are admitting her for fourteen days of therapy and observation within the confines of the hospital.”

  “You see it’s that word ‘confine’ that’s giving me the problem.” I stroked my finger beneath a paragraph on the sheaf of papers. “And, then there’s this legalese about not being able to leave the hospital grounds? Not to mention…Wait a minute, what do you mean I’m admitting her?”

  “It is simply a legal formality for her own safety.”

  “Break it down for me,” I urged, placing the pen carefully on top of the pages and folding my hands. “Because now I’m definitely not sure I care for the way it sounds.”

  “It is very simple, Rowan,” she explained. “By admitting Felicity in this fashion, she will be unable to sign herself out of the hospital. That can only be done by you, or by me.”

  “Me alone or you alone. It doesn’t take both of us?”

  “No. Either one of us can sign her out individually; although I would prefer you speak to me before doing something rash.”

  “Uh-huh. So, she can be signed out at any time?”

  “Yes, Rowan, at any time.”

  “Like, if I want her out of here tomorrow, I can come get her and we’re done. Finished. No ambulance with men in white coats chasing after us?”

  “I would not recommend that you do so, but yes, that is how it works. If you or I sign her out, she is free to leave. Rowan, stop being paranoid, this is not a prison, you know that.”

  “Yeah, I heard that somewhere before.”

  I stared back at her for a moment, not saying another word. I knew that she, of all people, wouldn’t lie to me about something like this, but I felt like I was perched on a very unstable precipice right now. I didn’t want Felicity to do this to begin with, but there was no talking her out of it. And, now it was somehow becoming my personal responsibility. The thing that kept going through my mind was that I was standing here committing my wife to an asylum. Though I knew that to be a somewhat archaic take on the situation, I guess I needed all of the assurances I could get.

  With a heavy exhale, I finally picked up the pen and scrawled my name on the admitting form, effectively placing my wife in the hospital’s hands for the next two weeks. I had a definite feeling that my notebook computer was going to be logging some serious hours because I was going to have work to do, but I also didn’t plan on straying far from this place if I could help it.

  “By the way,” I offered as I slid the papers along the countertop toward her. “My mother-in-law should be here any minute.”

  “Do you feel like that is going to be a problem?” she asked.

  “No, not necessarily. The reason I mentioned it, though, is that I was on the phone with her a little while ago, and she started acting weird when I brought up the sister issue. In fact, she is purposely coming down without the rest of the family and ended the conversation with something like ‘we need to talk’.”

  “Really?” she asked, her tone thoughtful. “Do you think there might be some family history that Felicity has somehow repressed?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know,” I said with a shake of my head. “Or maybe some she never knew about at all. All I can say is Maggie is a fairly unflappable type unless she thinks something dire has happened, but she started getting seriously flaky the minute I told her about the DNA tests. In fact, the sister thing was obviously what prompted that last ominous comment about needing to talk, so there’s something that’s been hidden away in a closet somewhere. I’m sure of that.”

  “So, is that all she said?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid it was.”

  “Well, even if there is some sort of revelation regarding a female sibling, I do not believe it will be a panacea for Felicity’s mental state. She has been through far too much.”

  “It might help, though, right?”

  “It might,” she said with a nod. “But, then again, depending on what is divulged, it could be harmful instead.”

  “Not what I wanted to hear, Helen.”

  “You would prefer that I lie?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then stop complaining.”

  “Yeah, right, and you believe that miracle will happen when?”

  She offered a thin smile. “Never.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, at any rate if we’re talking about a living, adult sibling, then I’m sure the police would be interested too.”

  “Undoubtedly, given what you have told me.”

  “Either way, I thought maybe I would see if she’d be willing to talk to both of us when she arrives.”

  “That certainly would not hurt.”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure if she will, but I’m going to try to talk her into it. Just do me a favor?”

  “What is that?”

  “If she agrees, try not to mention anything about the Lwa possession or anything else that went on last night, okay? It probably wouldn’t be a real good thing to lay on her.”

  She gave me a knowing nod. I knew that from my own sessions with her, at the very least, she was fully aware of the score when it came to my in-laws.

  “I believe that information would be covered under doctor-patient confidentiality anyway, Rowan,” she said. “You need not worry.”

  * * * * *

  “I honestly hadn’t ever expected to be having this conversation,” Maggie said, shifting in her chair. She had calmed considerably since the phone call, but I could tell there was still a nervous streak underscoring her tone.

  Looking at my mother-in-law, it was easy to see from which parent Felicity had inherited her looks. Maggie was slight, just like my wife, and sported a shou
lder-length coif of chestnut hair, although it was rapidly giving itself over to grey. Still, it softly framed her smooth, delicate features and bright eyes to form a pleasing and deceptively youthful visage. In fact, discerning her true age simply by looking at her would be no easy task. A box of hair dye from the corner store would instantly shave off a dozen years. And, though she was still extremely pretty, she had been an absolutely stunning sight in her youth. In fact, I had seen hard evidence of it from old family photos.

  “It’s okay, Maggie,” I replied. “I think that pretty much goes for both of us.”

  “Yes, I suppose that would be true, then,” she agreed. “Although for different reasons, I’m sure.”

  “If it would make you more comfortable, I will be happy to leave you two alone to talk,” Helen offered.

  “No,” Maggie replied hesitantly. “I think it may be important that you hear this.”

  “Yes, I will admit that any insight you can provide is most welcome, however, Rowan can fill me in later if you wish.”

  “No. You should hear it from me.” My mother-in-law paused, and her tenuous composure faltered for a moment as she suddenly blurted, “Is my daughter going to be all right?”

  “Yes,” Helen replied. “She is going to be just fine. She has simply dealt with far too much strife in a very short period of time.”

  It was the truth. It was just missing all of the gory details.

  “Maggie,” I started. “I hate to sound impatient, but I’m really looking for answers here, and I got the feeling when we were on the phone that you just might have one or two.”

  “It’s understandable, Rowan. You’ve dealt with more than your share of this, and we’ve given you little support where that is concerned.”

  “That’s not important right now. I’m hanging in there.”

  She grew quiet and looked down at her hands where they were resting in her lap. Her right was absently fiddling with her wedding set, twisting the rings in a circle. Every now and then she would pull them up the length of her finger, almost to the tip, then slide them back on and begin twirling the interlocking gold bands yet again.

  “I suppose I should give you a bit of background if this is to make any sense,” she said as she looked up, casting her glance between Helen and me, though her fingers continued to toy with the jewelry of their own volition. “To begin with, and this you may already know, Rowan, I am an identical twin.”

  I nodded. “Felicity mentioned it, and I think I’ve seen a picture or two in the photo albums.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “She may also have told you that, Caitlin, my twin, passed away many years ago. In fact, Felicity was very young.”

  I simply nodded.

  “Actually, the story the children were told was that their aunt was killed in an accidental car crash, but, that is only partially true.”

  She stopped and stared off into space for a long moment then shot us both an embarrassed glance before lowering her eyes to her lap once again.

  She continued. “That was nineteen seventy-two. One would think I could have come to terms with it by now.”

  “If you have been hiding painful details for all this time,” Helen offered, “then it is unlikely you could actually come to terms with the event, as you have not allowed yourself to do so.”

  “Yes,” Maggie replied without looking up. “I suppose you are correct. But it was necessary. We simply didn’t feel a need to burden the children with the embarrassing truth.”

  “You said Felicity was very young. Austin isn’t that much older,” I observed. “Would they have even understood?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “But they both adored Caitlin. Especially, Felicity. I believed then that our decision in sheltering them was correct, as I would now were it not for this turn of events.”

  I nodded then offered, “But, they aren’t children any more, Maggie. They grew up.”

  She looked up at me with a soft smile that held a small hint of pity. “Yes, Rowan, they are still children. I know it sounds cliché, but they always will be, no matter what their ages. But, one must be a parent to truly understand that.”

  “I’ll give you that,” I replied.

  Any other time I would have taken the comment as a diaphanously veiled reference to the fact that so far, neither Austin nor Felicity had produced a grandchild. Of course, I had a valid reason for the assessment because we had all heard the contentious remark several times in the past, though I’m certain they would prefer a set of genes in their pool that didn’t belong to me. However, I could easily tell by her tone that this time she was sincere in what she had just said, and no goading or malice was intended.

  After a pause I asked, “So, your sister wasn’t killed in a car crash?”

  She took in a deep breath and visibly gathered herself before continuing. “Yes, actually, she was. However, it wasn’t an accident. She deliberately drove her car onto a railroad crossing, and waited.”

  “How can you know she did it on purpose?”

  “Trust me, Rowan, she did.”

  “Was your sister being treated for depression?” Helen asked, obviously picking up on something in my mother-in-law’s tone that I had missed.

  Maggie nodded affirmation then added, “Not that it was doing any good, obviously. Her prescriptions more or less kept her from functioning normally. She couldn’t think clearly, and all she ever wanted to do was sleep. She hated it. Caitlin just reached a point where she simply refused to take them.”

  “Given that it was nineteen seventy-two, they were most likely tranquilizers,” Helen said as she jotted a note and then looked up. “Was she ever hospitalized?”

  “Briefly. That made for its own embarrassment in the family.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Helen hummed with a nod.

  “Why would that be embarrassing?” I asked.

  “The culture,” she answered with a shrug. “Our generation, the way we were raised. Our parents were not particularly supportive of her for a number of reasons. They felt she had brought the depression on herself, and that she had disgraced the family.”

  “Because she suffered from depression?” I asked, unable to fathom such insensitivity from family.

  “There were other reasons, Rowan.”

  Though I was still managing to keep my growing impatience at bay, I couldn’t help but express my confusion. “Maggie, I’m very sorry to hear this, but I have to be honest, I’m a bit lost. I don’t mean to sound callous myself, but I’m not sure what your sister committing suicide has to do with Felicity having a sister.”

  “Caitlin was dealing with a very specific type of depression, Rowan,” she replied.

  “Severe postpartum,” Helen offered, already doing math that was escaping me.

  “Yes,” Maggie answered.

  “And, your sister was unmarried,” she added.

  “Correct.”

  “Okay,” I replied with a nod. “Maybe I’m just slow because I’m tired, but the way I remember the branches on a family tree, wouldn’t her daughter be Felicity’s cousin?”

  She remained quiet and continued to fiddle with her rings. I watched as she repeatedly pulled the bands from her finger, silently inspected them, and then slowly slid them back on.

  “Maggie?” I prodded.

  She looked up at me and instantly apologized. “I’m sorry, what did you ask?”

  “I said Caitlin’s daughter would have been Felicity’s cousin, not her sister.”

  “Yes, of course, you would be correct were it not for the fact that Shamus was the father.”

  CHAPTER 31:

  “So, lemme get this straight,” Ben replied. “Felicity’s old man took a tumble with his sister-in-law and forgot to glove up, so nine months later, oops?”

  “Yeah, trust me, Ben, I’m as floored as anyone,” I said into my cell phone. “He’s the last person I would have expected to do something like that.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s always the holier ‘n thou loudmouths t
hat got somethin’ ta’ hide, Row.”

  “I suppose so.”

  I had already filled my friend in on where I was calling from and the highlights of the previous evening that had brought us here. He was already up to speed to some extent, as Helen had contacted him to cancel their plans for Thanksgiving dinner but had, of course, left it up to me to fill in some of the blanks as I saw fit. As it was, I had already managed to put a damper on the holiday for the both of them by calling Helen, and I was feeling a little guilty about it. Not so much so, however, that I was going to even think about hesitating to call Ben. At this point he was one of the few people I trusted, even though he wasn’t actually assigned to the investigation. We would both just have to get over the intrusion.

  After quietly mulling over the conversation thus far, he asked, “An’ so you’re sayin’ the sis-in-law was your mother-in-law’s identical twin?”

  “It’s not just me saying it, Ben. It’s a fact.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that.”

  “The lab guys are gonna love this ‘cause identical twins got identical DNA.”

  “I figured they’d be close, but they’re identical?”

  “Yeah, definitely. Fraternal twins, no. Identical, oh yeah. Can’t fuckin’ tell ‘em apart with a DNA test. You didn’t know that?”

  “No. Like I said the other night, genetics really isn’t my forte.”

  “Damn, I know somethin’ you don’t. Gotta love that.”

  “Go ahead and write it on the calendar, Ben.”

  “I keep tellin’ ya’ I ain’t stupid, white man. Besides, they teach us this crap so we can do cop type work. You know, catch bad guys and shit like that.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much.”

  “So,” he continued his speculation. “With the identical DNA making it more or less the same mother from a genetics standpoint, and with exactly the same father, the match is gonna be close. Just like siblings.”

  “That was my thought.”

 

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