Miranda: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  She was quiet for a moment before answering softly. “What if she does? What do you think you could do if you were here?”

  “Keep you safe.”

  “Could you?” she appealed.

  “Yes.”

  “Aye, you would try… I know that… But at what cost?”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.” She fell silent for a moment then all but whispered the reason behind her objection, “I almost killed you once already.”

  “No, you didn’t. That wasn’t you. It was Miranda.”

  “Yes, but she was using my body,” she replied, laying heavy emphasis on the my. Just from the sound of her voice, I could imagine the pained expression she was most likely wearing.

  “Which is precisely why…” I began.

  Once again she cut me off. “Which is precisely why you should stay there and find a way to stop her for good.”

  “You just aren’t going to let me win this argument, are you?” I asked after a short pause.

  “No.” There was a brighter note in her voice this time. It was faint but there nonetheless. “When do I ever let you win?”

  Even with my current mood, I had to smile at her rhetorical question. “You know if they won’t let me see her, then there’s not much I can do about it.”

  “You’ll find a way. You always do.”

  I puffed out my cheeks and let go with a long exhale as I continued rubbing my forehead. “Promise me you’ll call right away if the urges get stronger.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m serious, Felicity.”

  “So am I.”

  I paused and shook my head in disbelief at what I had just agreed to do. After a moment I said, “You know I’ll be checking back in with you later, right?”

  The humor in her voice increased again as she murmured, “Aye, you’d damn well better then, Rowan Linden Gant… I don’t take well to being stood up.”

  For the second time today, we ended our long-distance connection on a concerned note. We’d muddled through this waltz many times before, and as usual both of us wanted to lead. Most of the time we could make that work, but this go around the tempo was completely wrong and we were faltering through the steps. Unfortunately, as long as Miranda was playing the music, we had no choice but to dance.

  * * * * *

  “After some discussion, we’ve decided we would like for you to go ahead and meet with Annalise again tomorrow, Mister Gant,” Doctor Jante said to me. “Just as she suggested.”

  My momentary descent into violence went unmentioned. In fact, up until now, only the standard pleasantries and a cursory introduction between Doctor Clayton and myself had been exchanged, but not much else. Now, apparently break time was over.

  I was in the middle of ripping the ends from two square paper packets of generic analgesic tablets when the verbal bomb was dropped on ground zero, which was, without a doubt, me. There was no ceremony whatsoever behind the statement, and I had to wonder if the heavy-handed delivery was calculated or truly as clumsy as it appeared on the surface.

  Either way, the tone in her voice was unmistakable. She was telling me, not asking me.

  I looked up at her for a moment then back down at my hands. Without a word I continued about my task of pouring the quartet of pills into my palm then wadding the empty packets and stuffing them into my pocket.

  We were still in the same office where I’d been sequestered ever since returning from the ungodly mess that was posing as my interview with Miranda. Jante and the chief psychologist had followed Constance into the room when she returned with the coffee and painkillers, which was very shortly after I had finished my call with Felicity. Given their timing, I suspect they had been on the other side of the door listening for a cue to come in. Of course, they could have been watching me on a screen down the hall for all I knew. It seemed there were cameras everywhere you looked in this place. I hadn’t noticed one in here just yet, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lens spying from above.

  Still mute, I reached out and lifted a Styrofoam cup from the corner of the desk. I took a tentative sip of the coffee and found that it was far closer to lukewarm than hot. Since it had been given more than ample time to cool down, that suggested I was probably correct in my theory that they had been waiting outside the door for me to finish my call. I popped the handful of aspirin into my mouth, gave them a quick chew, and then washed the gritty results down with a healthy swig of the brew. Fortunately, the universal constant of bad cop coffee didn’t seem to apply here. While it definitely wasn’t the best I’d ever had, it also didn’t bear the same taste profile as an industrial solvent—like the cup of sludge I was used to swilling whenever I visited the metropolitan homicide division at police headquarters back in Saint Louis. Under the circumstances, however, I think I might have preferred the sludge, so long as I could have it there instead of here.

  Finally, after a second slug to wash the taste of the pills from my mouth, I set the cup aside and grunted, “Actually, I talked to Miranda. I haven’t met with Annalise yet.”

  “A matter of semantics,” Jante replied.

  “Yeah, you just go right on believing that,” I said with a nod. “It seems to have worked out well for you.”

  “I’ll have a driver meet us out front,” she offered, ignoring my sardonic gibe as she snatched up the handset from the telephone on the desk. “It’s after noon so I’m sure you are hungry by now. We can discuss this over a late lunch and then take you to your hotel.”

  “Actually, I’d prefer you just change my airline reservation,” I said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Something that would get me home this afternoon or early evening would be perfect,” I replied.

  While I had promised Felicity I would take a shot at talking to Annalise, it was becoming more and more obvious to me that something else was going on here. I wasn’t about to walk into it blindly. I’d already done enough of that for one day.

  “Mister Grant…” Doctor Clayton began.

  “Gant,” I said, my voice terse as I cut him off. “G-A-N-T. What is it with you people around here? Do you have a surplus of R’s or something?”

  “My apologies,” he replied.

  I gave him a conciliatory wave of my hand as I shook my head. “No… No, I’m the one who should apologize. I realize it’s no excuse, but if you knew what my head felt like right now…” I let out a heavy sigh.

  “I understand,” he said with a nod.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Thanks, but no, you really don’t… Believe me, I wish you did though.”

  “I see,” he replied, however his expression said he didn’t. “What I was going to say is that we are faced with a unique opportunity here.”

  “That’s one word for it.”

  “So, Mister Gant,” Doctor Jante interjected. “Are you saying you don’t wish to meet with Annalise again?”

  “Actually, I’m not saying anything of the sort. But, just so we’re on the same page, I will say that I’m a bit confused by all this. Shouldn’t I be the one trying to convince you to let this meeting take place?” I answered.

  She nodded and stated the obvious reason. “Of course. Because of your unfortunate outburst.”

  “Well yeah, if that’s what you want to call it,” I said. “Where I come from it’s referred to as assault.” Even though I tried to keep it reined in, a hint of sarcasm crept out with the words anyway.

  “You needn’t worry about that.”

  “Why not? I mean think about it. I just attacked one of your inmates. Personal feelings aside and, as much as I hate to say it, she has rights, and I’m reasonably certain I violated them in spades.”

  “As far as we are concerned your actions were justified.”

  “Justified?” I threw my hands up into the air in front of me and added with a note of exasperation, “Hell, she hasn’t even been tried and convicted yet. Not to mention that she was chained to the table when I wen
t across it at her. My actions weren’t justified and you know it. Shouldn’t you be hauling me out of here and charging me with aggravated battery or something of that sort?”

  “Rowan…” Constance warned in a quiet voice. “Don’t push it.”

  “As I said,” Jante told me. “You needn’t worry. No criminal charges will be filed. The incident isn’t even being reported.”

  I spat, “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “You really should listen to S.A. Mandalay. We’re doing you a favor.”

  “You’re probably right, but I’m a little stubborn.”

  Jante crossed her arms and stared at me. “All right. Do you want to be arrested, Mister Gant?”

  “No, I never said that’s what I wanted.” I shook my head to punctuate the response but didn’t display any other reaction to the threat. “But I would like to know what’s really going on.”

  “As I said, because of your history with the Saint Louis office of the bureau, we’re doing you a favor,” she replied. “However, if you’d rather not accept it, I can go ahead and have Special Agent Mandalay take you into custody.”

  “Now you’re bluffing.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes,” I told her, not wavering. “If arresting me was really an option, today’s meeting never would have continued after my ‘outburst’ as you called it. Not to mention this whole favor thing would have never been put on the table.”

  “I have my reasons for allowing the interview to continue.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you do, and that’s what has me wondering. But it also doesn’t change the fact that you’re bluffing right now.”

  “Why would I bluff you, Mister Gant?”

  “Well, this is just a guess, but I’d say because there’s something you want from me.”

  She cocked her head. “And how did you arrive at this conclusion?”

  “No offense, Doctor Jante, but I’ve been played by people who are better at it than you.” I shrugged. “Let’s be honest. Other than arresting me, at the bare minimum, kicking my ass out of here is what would make the most sense in this situation. But instead, you’re sweeping things under the rug and even wanting me to have another meeting with the Ice Queen. Your mistake here was assuming I still wanted that meeting too.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Right now, I’m not so sure,” I said, giving my head a shake. “Miranda tore me apart in there, you know that. And that was just what you could see on the surface. There are things going on here that I don’t expect you to understand.”

  Doctor Clayton spoke up again, a recognizable aura of academic curiosity in his voice. “I assume you are referring to your contention that the personality calling itself Miranda is actually a Voodoo spirit inhabiting Annalise Devereaux’s body?”

  “They’re called Lwa,” I replied. “And yeah, that’s definitely part of it.”

  “And you truly believe this?” he pressed.

  “Yes, I do,” I huffed. “But go right ahead and feel free to think I’m a nutcase, Doc. Everyone else does, so join the club.”

  He gestured with his hands as he shook his head. “Well, even you must admit that such a belief defies conventional logic.”

  “Yeah, I do,” I grunted while giving him a nod. “Every friggin’ day of the week. So there you go. Welcome to my unconventional life.”

  “Let’s get back to the issue at hand,” Doctor Jante interrupted. “Are you or are you not willing to meet with Annalise Devereaux tomorrow?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Mister Gant, I have no idea what game you are playing.”

  “Same one as you,” I told her. “I just don’t have the benefit of knowing all of your rules, so I’m making them up as I go.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Look, Doctor Jante, I’ll make you a deal. You come clean with me about what it is you want from me, and I’ll give it another go with Annalise.”

  “I’m sure I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “Then let me help you understand. It’s obvious that you believe my involvement here outweighs my transgression, which is why you’re willing to put me back in a room with Annalise Devereaux, even though you can’t really be certain I won’t flip out again. This can only mean that there has to be something in it for you. Maybe not you personally, but for the FBI at least. The problem here is that I don’t know what that is. Can you understand my confusion now? Obviously something else is going on here, and even though it involves yours truly, I’m not in the loop and that makes me very nervous.”

  “You’re imagining things.”

  “If that’s the case then I must be delusional,” I replied. “All the more reason why you shouldn’t trust me in there with her.”

  With a cloud of exasperation billowing around her words, Jante said, “Exactly what is it you think I can tell you, Mister Gant?”

  “I’m guessing plenty, but it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you’d start with explaining why you’re so willing to overlook what happened. And while you’re at it, maybe you could tell me exactly who the Behavioral Analysis Unit is studying here—Annalise Devereaux or Rowan Gant?”

  CHAPTER 7

  Jante’s outward demeanor hardened. She regarded me coolly, as if sizing up an adversary before throwing a punch. Taking the approach of putting us at odds with one another probably wasn’t my smartest move ever; but I’d already blown the bell curve for the day in that particular department, so in the grand scheme of things it really didn’t matter all that much. At any rate, my reply to her query had definitely struck a nerve, so I was either going to get my answers or find out I was wrong about her bluffing. Either way, I figured I would be ahead of the game in one sense or another.

  “S.A. Mandalay,” she finally said, verbally addressing Constance but never taking her eyes off of me. “Would you mind escorting Doctor Clayton out of the room for a few minutes.”

  Like earlier, even though she had phrased the words as a question, she wasn’t asking. She was giving an order. I realized she was officially the one in charge, but her demanding verbal mannerism was starting to wear on me.

  Unable to hold my tongue, I asked, “Why break up the party, Doc?” This time I made no attempt to hide my sarcasm.

  “This is strictly FBI business.”

  “Fine. Send Doctor Clayton out for a coffee break.” I gestured toward the now uncomfortable looking chief psychologist then glanced in his direction and added, “No offense intended, Doc.” Leveling my gaze back on Jante I said, “But Constance is FBI and I’d really prefer she stick around.”

  “That isn’t possible.”

  “And why is that?”

  She shook her head. “In this case I’m afraid that what you are wanting to discuss is above her pay grade.”

  “Above her pay grade?” I chuckled. “And Ben tells me I watch too many movies. Hell, I’m starting to feel like I’m in one… Here’s the thing, we both know if it’s above her pay grade then it’s way the hell above mine. I want her to stay.”

  “I’m trying to work with you, Mister Gant, but you’re being unreasonable.”

  “It’s one of my more endearing qualities. Just ask my wife.”

  “You really aren’t in a position to negotiate.”

  “I don’t know about that… You’re the one who called me, remember?”

  “Only because Devereaux was so insistent upon speaking with you.”

  “I don’t buy that,” I said. “She could have had her lawyer contact me if that’s all it was. There’s more to it than that.”

  “Perhaps I was merely doing you another favor. I’m well aware that you had already exhausted every contact you have trying to arrange a meeting with Devereaux prior to my calling you. In fact, just over a month ago you told me yourself that you needed this meeting with her.”

  “Yeah, I did. But with today’s blind eye added to the mix, that would make two awfully big favors for someone you don’t really know all that well.” I shrugg
ed. “So what’s in it for you?”

  “Research, Mister Gant. Data.”

  “Then I guess we both stand to lose something if we can’t make nice on the playground.”

  “I can still have you arrested and brought up on charges,” she threatened.

  “I have no doubt that you can,” I agreed. “Hell, I’m the one who suggested it. But I’m pretty sure I already called your bluff on that one, didn’t I?”

  “The thought of being arrested doesn’t concern you at all, does it?”

  “Oh, it concerns me,” I said with a nod. “It concerns me quite a bit. But I happen to have a pit bull of an attorney, not to mention two corrections officers and an FBI agent who know exactly what went down in that interview room after my screwup. I’m sure a few procedures and rules were ignored today, and I’m betting that would have some bearing on how things play out for everyone concerned. So, even if I go down, I’ll take you with me.”

  “So you’re resorting to blackmail?”

  “Just taking a page from your playbook, Doc.”

  “All of this posturing is accomplishing nothing,” she admonished.

  I agreed. “You’re right. But since it’s mutual, let me see if I can break the cycle.” Turning to Constance I held out my wrists and asked, “You want me like this, or should I put my hands on top of my head, or behind my back, or something like that?”

  “Stop it, Rowan…” Constance scolded me under her breath.

  “They’ve already patted me down a couple of times today,” I continued. “But if you have to do it again just watch where you grab, if you know what I mean. I’m sure Felicity will understand as long as you’re careful.”

  Constance growled at me again, much more audibly this time. “Dammit, Rowan… This isn’t a joke…”

  “You should listen to her, Mister Gant,” Doctor Jante snapped. “You don’t seem to be taking this situation very seriously.”