Miranda: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Ever hear of answerin’ your phone?” Ben replied to the greeting.

  “Sorry, I was busy.”

  “You two ain’t…well gettin’…ya’know…”

  “No, Ben, we aren’t,” I said.

  Under different circumstances, I would have replied with something suitably risqué in order to razz him about his characteristic attack of modesty wherever sex was concerned. But, right now I didn’t feel all that amused.

  “Well, are ya’ dressed?” he asked.

  “Not yet, why?”

  “‘Cause ya’ got about an hour, and then I’m gonna be in the lobby waitin’ for ya’,” he replied. “Both of ya’.”

  “Why?”

  “We got a bad guy ta’ find.”

  “Ben, I already told you I’m not…”

  I didn’t get a chance to finish my objection because he spoke right over the top of me, “Meet me in the lobby. See ya’ in sixty.”

  At the end of the sentence, there was a dull click followed by a hollow silence. I realized he had simply hung up in order to cut me off. I sighed heavily then settled the handset back into the cradle. Then I gently patted my wife on the back of her calf.

  “What’s the story?” Felicity asked.

  “We need to get cleaned up,” I told her. “I’m afraid the gorilla’s keeper will be here in just a bit.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Felicity and I were backed into a corner on the crowed elevator. Apparently, everyone staying in the hotel had a meeting at the same time this morning, or so it seemed. We pressed ourselves farther into the wall as the car stopped at each successive floor on the way down. We gained more passengers on the first three stops, but after that, it was simply an exercise in waiting since the elevator was full.

  Eventually, we reached the lobby, and the crush of suits in front of us began to filter outward. By the time they’d cleared and we were able to exit, the doors were already sliding shut. Felicity made it through unscathed, but since it was an older model elevator, I ended up purposely shouldering the mechanical safety edge and sent the sliding panels into a hasty retreat so that I could follow.

  “He’s over there,” my wife announced, pointing across the expanse of marble tile and expensive looking area rugs.

  Ben was lounged in one of the sitting area chairs near the center of the lobby, his attention focused on a folded newspaper in his hands. We walked toward him then skirted around the sofa just opposite where he was seated.

  As we drew closer I announced, “I’d say good morning, but it hasn’t really started out that way.”

  Our friend looked up from the newsprint then tossed it on the large coffee table and stood. “What the hell kept ya’? I’ve been waitin’ down here for fifteen minutes, and some jackass took the comic section, so I got stuck readin’ about how bad my 401k is tankin’.”

  I glanced at my watch and shook my head. “You said an hour, Ben. It’s only been about forty-five minutes. Maybe fifty. Besides, you’re not one to talk. I tried calling you back four times after you hung up on me, and you didn’t even bother to answer.”

  “Yeah, well I was kinda busy,” he snorted, repeating back to me the excuse I’d given him earlier. He then addressed himself to Felicity with one of his typical baiting remarks. “So what’s the deal, Firehair? You runnin’ a bit long with all the girly stuff this mornin’?”

  Not being any more in the mood for his joviality than me, she muttered, “Póg mo thóin, Ben.”

  “Okay,” he shot back with a nod and a grin. “Bare it an’ share it, Irish.”

  My wife instantly raised an eyebrow and regarded him with a quiet stare, a slightly surprised mask plastered across her delicate ivory features.

  “Yeah,” he said, a self-assured cockiness in his voice. “Didn’t think I knew what that meant, did’ja? See there? I’m catchin’ on.”

  “Aye, are you really then?” she puffed, annoyance clearly evident in her voice. “Go bpléasca scata Fomhórach ólta do bhall fearga.”

  She cocked her head and smirked as she stared at him. The grin faded from Ben’s face while he stared back at her silently for a few seconds, apparently waiting for her to clarify. When she remained mute he finally turned his questioning gaze in my direction.

  “Don’t look at me,” I replied while giving my head a shake. “I’ve never heard that one, so I couldn’t begin to translate. Besides, you started it.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” he grunted, shaking his head. “Just tryin’ ta’ lighten the mood a bit, ya’know.”

  “Sorry, but it’s not working,” I told him. “Not today, anyway.”

  “Yeah, no shit, I kinda noticed. So, anyway, you two ready ta’ roll?”

  “Hold on just a second; ready for what?” I said, gesturing for him to wait. “I already explained that I’m no good to you on this one. The visions are gone.” I pointed my index finger and double-tapped myself in the middle of my forehead with it for effect. “There’s nothing but dead air, Ben. Nada.”

  “So’s that make ya’ an airhead?”

  “Dammit, I’m serious,” I growled.

  “Jeezus, lighten up, Row. I know ya’ get kinda hard ta’ deal with whenever you’re workin’ a case, but damn…”

  “I’m sorry, Ben, but I’m just not in the mood to joke around. And, I’m not working this case.”

  “Yeah…okay, whatever.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Then why didn’t ya’ just stay in your room?” he asked.

  “Because you wouldn’t answer your goddamned phone. Otherwise I would have told you exactly what I’m telling you now.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, well since you’re already here, might as well give it a go anyway…”

  “What? Are you not listening? Exactly what is it you want from me?” I asked.

  “The usual. Your help on the case.”

  “Okay, I’m asking you again… Did you not hear what I just said? The visions disappeared last night, and that hasn’t miraculously changed in the past eight hours.” I raised my volume a notch and stressed the enunciation of the last four words, “ I… Can’t… Help… You.”

  He nodded. “I ain’t deaf, Row. I ain’t a moron either. I just talk like one to throw people off. Listen, I get what you’re sayin’. But you want this bitch stopped, right?”

  “Of course,” I returned, a fresh wisp of incredulity woven through my voice. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  “It’s the kinda question I ask ta’ get your attention whenever you’re rampin’ up ta’ be an asshole,” he replied with a slightly harsher edge. “Zactly like you’re doin’ right now for instance. Now, if you wanna play Mister Serious, okay, I can do that, so listen up. Whether the Twilight Zone thing is workin’ for ya’ right now or not doesn’t matter. I don’t give a shit about that.” He wagged his finger back and forth between Felicity and me. “Simple fact is the two of ya’ know more about Miranda and how she does whatever the hell it is she does than anyone else around. Plain and simple. And, right now, the MCS needs that input from you. End of story. Got me?”

  “Okay, fine. But I’m telling you up front, I really don’t think I’m up to this, Ben.”

  He huffed out an annoyed sigh then shook his head and stared at me for a moment. Finally, he splayed out his hands in mock surrender and asked, “What the hell’s goin’ on with you, Row?”

  “Do you really have to ask?” I snapped.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “‘Cause I just don’t get it. You sure as hell ain’t actin’ like the Rowan Gant I used ta’ know.”

  “Well, think about what I’ve been through, then ask yourself what’s wrong with me.”

  “Yeah, look, you think I don’t know what you’ve had ta’ deal with? I realize you’re a victim here, trust me, nobody’s disputin’ that fact. But I also know that ain’t somethin’ new where you’re concerned. And I gotta be honest, I’ve never seen ya’ play the ‘pity me’ part. Up till
now, that is.”

  “Maybe I’ve just finally had enough.”

  He nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy that. I’ve heard ya’ say it before, but fine, maybe you’re for real this time, so I’ll go along with ya’. We all get burned out, and I’m not surprised if you really are. Hell, I’ve been worried about ya’ more’n once. You know that.

  “But, guess what? This ain’t over, and you ain’t off the clock yet. At least not until this one’s done. You can’t walk away from it, and you know that as well as I do.”

  “Dammit, Ben.”

  “Go ahead and damn me all ya’ want if it makes ya’ happy. But we need ya’ on this. Felicity needs ya’ on this. Hell, you need you on this.”

  “Okay, fine,” I conceded. “But I’m still not sure how much good I can do.”

  “Like I said, you know how Miranda works. Besides, you’re the only one who’s broken, ain’t ya?” He turned his gaze toward Felicity and said, “I mean, I know you ain’t quite as tuned in as Row, you still got the whole woo-woo thing happenin’, right Firehair?”

  “No way!” I spat before she could answer him. I hadn’t exactly been keeping my voice down during this conversation, but now it rose in volume by several notches. “Dammit, Ben, no friggin’ way. I said I’d help you, but you aren’t dragging Felicity into this, do you understand me?! I won’t allow it!”

  “I beg your pardon?” my wife interjected. Her comment was clearly aimed at me, but I was focused on Ben and all but ignored it.

  “Excuse me,” a new and unfamiliar voice sharply insinuated itself into our conversation.

  I looked toward it and found a middle-aged woman in a neatly pressed business suit glaring at us. Based on where she was standing, she had likely approached from the side that was partially obscured by a row of large potted plants. Her gold nametag identified her as the front desk manager.

  “We bein’ too loud?” Ben grunted.

  She nodded. “You could say that. Are all of you guests here at the hotel?”

  “They are,” Ben said, waving his finger at us. Then he withdrew his badge case and flipped it open to display his credentials. “I’m just their ride.”

  She glanced at Felicity and me with an air of quickly rising suspicion as she noticeably took a step back from us. Returning her gaze to Ben she asked, “Is there a problem, officer…”

  “Storm. Detective Storm,” he answered, sliding the case back into his pocket. “No. No problem, really. Just a discussion that got a bit outta hand is all. Sorry ‘bout that.”

  “I see,” she replied with a nod then carefully choosing her words said, “Well, if I could ask that you either tone it down a bit or take the discussion elsewhere, I’m sure our other guests would appreciate it.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. We can do that. Sorry again.”

  As she walked away, my friend turned back to me with a frown then clamped a large hand on my shoulder and leaned in while pulling me a bit closer. In a low tone he said, “See what I mean about you rampin’ up to asshole intensity? Now, number one, calm your ass down before the hotel kicks you outta here. Number two, I hate ta’ tell ya’ this, Row, but I ain’t draggin’ Felicity anywhere. In case you’ve forgotten, whether ya’ like it or not, she’s already in this shit just as deep as you. Maybe even deeper.”

  “Aye, he’s right, Rowan,” Felicity said. “I am.”

  “That’s different,” I objected, although much less boisterously than before.

  “Only in your eyes, because as usual, you’re trying to protect me,” she replied. “Besides, I’m the one she’s after. And there’s something else you may have forgotten… What I do is ultimately my decision, not yours.”

  “Dammit, Felicity,” I grumbled.

  “You know I’m right,” she said, softening her voice to a soothing tone. Still, the stern intent was there, and I knew I’d best give in.

  I was only two hours into my day, and already it wasn’t favoring me in the least. I huffed out a heavy sigh and told her, “Yes, you are. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Aye, that’s true. No more than I like it when you do the same to me then.”

  On that point, I couldn’t even begin to argue. Over the years I’d seesawed between embracing my curse and trying to ignore it completely. The attempts to deny it never lasted long, and when all was said and done, I would put myself right into the middle of the strife, no matter what anyone else said. Unfortunately, it didn’t always end well, and Felicity was the one charged with picking up the pieces and putting me back together. I fully realized that task exacted its own kind of toll; still, that didn’t mean I wanted her to trade places with me.

  But, now that I’d finally come to terms with accepting my unwanted abilities as an ever-present part of my life, they had been unceremoniously taken away. Since I had no real inkling of exactly how Miranda had done this to me, I was at a loss as to how to circumvent or change it, which left me standing on unfamiliar ground.

  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would find myself silently begging the universe to re-open a door I’d been trying to shut for what seemed like a huge slice of forever. And in keeping with the status quo, today was no different than all of those before it because my pleas were apparently still falling upon deaf ears.

  The decision was being made for me, against my will and without opportunity for appeal. If we were going to stop Miranda, then I needed to let Felicity take the lead, and that wasn’t going to be an easy task for me. Especially given what I’d been forced to see.

  “So…” Ben said. “We good here?”

  “No,” I mumbled. “No, we aren’t.”

  “Rowan…” Felicity appealed.

  I sighed, “Yeah, honey, I know… I don’t guess I have any choice, do I?”

  “Aye, you’re right. You don’t.”

  “Fine…but we go at it with our eyes open. No taking unnecessary risks.”

  She shook her head and gave me a mocking chuckle. “In other words, don’t be like you then?”

  “Yeah…” I agreed. “Don’t be like me.”

  We fell quiet for a moment then Ben glanced back and forth between us and interjected. “Okay, are we all good now?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s give it a try, I guess.”

  I heard myself saying the words, but in my heart and soul I wasn’t comfortable with them at all. Before the last syllable faded, I was already regretting the decision.

  “That’s more like it,” my friend said.

  “All right then, so where do we start?” Felicity asked.

  “Breakfast,” he replied. “That’s actually the reason I got down here early.”

  “Okay, and after that?” she pressed.

  “After that we head ta’ the county medical examiner’s office and make nuisances or ourselves.”

  Felicity shook her head and commented, “And you want to eat breakfast first?”

  “Yeah. I’m hungry,” Ben replied then jerked his thumb toward an archway leading off from the lobby. “Wanna go ahead an’ grab somethin’ in the restaurant since we’re already here?”

  I glanced down the short corridor then turned back to him and shook my head. “I didn’t exactly have a good dining experience at the last hotel restaurant where I ate. How about we try somewhere else.”

  “Your call.” He shrugged then ushered us ahead of him toward the door. “We could hit a pancake house or somethin’ on the way, long as it’s quick.”

  “Are we in a hurry now?” I asked.

  “A little. Ya’ kinda hafta get there at the right time, if ya’ know what I mean,” he replied.

  I sighed. “We don’t actually have an appointment, do we?”

  “Relax. I got it covered. We just need ta’ make a coupl’a quick stops before we get there and it’ll all be good.”

  “Oh, by the way, I meant to ask,” Felicity said. “How are the dogs doing?”

  “Okay, I guess.” Ben gave her a sarcastic grunt. “The big one seems
fine, but I don’t think the other one likes me.”

  “Quigley? What’s wrong?” she pressed.

  “Little bastard stole my towel and tore it ta’ shreds while I was in the shower this mornin’.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “When we go inside, just hang loose and let me handle it,” Ben told us as we climbed out of his van in front of the squat brown building on Helen Avenue. He elbowed his door shut then came around the front of the vehicle and waited for us, adding, “There’s kind of a process I gotta go through ta’ get things rollin’.”

  Timing what it was, breakfast itself had ended up being rushed, tasteless, fast food eaten while on the way to our next stop. Of course, given that an autopsy suite containing a dead body was our intended destination, we probably didn’t need to have too much sitting on our stomachs right now anyway. Although, I’m not sure our greasy selection was going to be much better in the long run.

  As he’d mentioned earlier, upon drawing closer to the county medical examiner’s office, we made a pair of side trips into some nearby drive-thrus. Between them, Ben shelled out more than twice as much as he’d spent on his earlier meal.

  I levered the sliding side door of the Chevy closed and then followed Felicity up onto the sidewalk where Ben was waiting. I gestured at the items in my friend’s hands and said, “By process, I take it you mean bribe, right?”

  “Not a real good word ta’ use around coppers, white man,” he grunted while shaking his head.

  Since Ben was taking the lead, I held open the entry door while he and Felicity filed through and then followed behind them into the lobby area. Once inside I sidled up next to my wife and glanced around, but we both remained mute just as we’d been instructed to do.

  Behind the low counter in front of us was seated a woman who looked to be in her late forties to early fifties. She was dressed in scrubs and wore her dark brown hair in a short but stylish bob. As the door was closing behind us, she looked up, her expression blank; then without uttering a word she returned to her work.