Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (10 page)

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Look, it was no big deal and
it’s over. But since we’re on the subject, I guess I should tell
you this much—Felicity doesn’t think we should be playing in the
same sandbox for a while. She’s decided you’re a negative
influence.”

“What? How’d I get ta’ be the friggin’ bad
kid all of a sudden?”

“She seems to think you’re a trigger for the
latest ethereal crap raining down on my head.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so. What’s worse, I’m
inclined to agree with her.”

“Why me?”

“Short version is you’re a cop who’s willing
to listen to me and the spirits know that, so they’re more likely
to screw with me when they think I have your ear. That’s our theory
anyway.”

“That’s fucked.”

“Yeah, but like I said, right now I have to
agree with her.”

“Great… So this means what?”

“Basically, until I get a handle on
controlling this, you and I need to keep some distance between us
while you’re working a case.”

“You seen the violent crime and homicide
stats for Saint Louis, Row? I’m always workin’ a case. Usually
more’n one at a time.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like we’re married or
anything, you know. I think we’ll survive.”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” he grunted. “But you know
what I’m sayin’. I ain’t so keen on ghosts screwin’ over our
friendship… So how do we fix this?”

“
We
don’t.” I shrugged out of reflex.
“It’s something I have to deal with. Of course, if it doesn’t work
out then I guess the theory is wrong.”

“What then?”

“Honestly? I really wish I knew. But I guess
then we’ll be able to have a beer at the same bar.”

“Yeah, friggin’ wunnerful. Damned if ya’ do,
damned if ya’ don’t.”

“Yeah, story of my life. And, it’s not
exactly turning out to be my week so far, if you know what I
mean.”

“Uh-huh… Well since I’m gettin’ the blame,
don’tcha think you should tell me what happened ta’ make you two
come up with this landmark theory?”

“No.”

“Dammit, Rowan…”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine. Suit yourself,” he grumbled. “Just
tell me this, are ya’ sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, Ben, I’m okay.”

“You know I’m just askin’ ‘cause I’ve seen
this shit go south with you before.”

“Who’s lying now?” I blurted the question
without thinking.

“I’m fuckin’ serious as a heart attack, Row,”
he replied. “You think I’m not worried about ya’?”

The tone of his voice was sincere, but I
could read something else beneath the words. Ben was nothing if not
a loyal friend, and while he didn’t usually pull punches and could
occasionally be hard to read, he always had our best interests at
heart, even if it didn’t necessarily seem like it at the time.
However, none of that stopped him from being a cop with a murder to
solve, and I knew it.

“I don’t doubt that you are,” I told him.
“But I also think you have an ulterior motive.”

“Jeezus, Row…”

“Am I wrong?”

“What? Are ya’ some kinda lie detector
now?”

“Depends. Are you lying?”

“Okay… Fine… Yeah… I admit I’m curious what
you might’ve come up with on this case if ya’ went all la-la land,
which it sure looked like you were gonna do yesterday. I’ve been
through this kinda crap with ya’ a few too many times. I guess I’ve
gotten used to gettin’ your opinion when the weird shit pops up. So
sue me.”

“At the risk of repeating myself, aren’t you
the one who always tells me the cops were catching the bad guys
long before I showed up?”

“Yeah, I am,” he replied. “And we’ll keep
doin’ it too. But I’m also the guy who told you a good cop’ll use
whatever legal and reasonable means he has at his disposal to catch
those bad guys.”

“So now I’m ‘Rowan Gant the investigative
tool’, am I? Nothing more than a means to an end?” I offered the
questions in a rhetorical tone.

I suppose I should have been hurt by what
he’d said, but deep down I really wasn’t. Given everything the two
of us had been through together, of all people I could easily see
the logic in what he was saying. Still, my reaction was knee-jerk,
and I knew I didn’t sound terribly pleased.

“Yeah, well you’re bein’ a tool,” he grunted
then his tone turned serious. “But yeah, in a way you’re definitely
an investigative resource. But you can leave out the ‘nothing more
than’ bullshit. First and foremost you’re my friend, Row, and this
ain’t all about the case. I really am worried about you’n Firehair
bein’
safe
.”

His sentiment was obviously unfeigned, and
the emphasis he placed on the word safe was so clear that I truly
felt bad for having put him on the spot.

“Sorry,” I apologized, a bit of embarrassment
creeping into my voice. “I’m just a little touchy about all this
right now.”

“No shit,” he returned, an obvious gloss of
sarcasm on the words. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Well, in my defense this isn’t exactly easy.
Just because I’m quitting doesn’t mean they are.”

“Pretty rough, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain, Ben. But,
remember how you felt when you quit smoking cigarettes?”

“Yeah. Hell, I had the shakes and everything.
It sucked big time. That what this is like?”

“Kind of. But multiply it by about ten, and
then imagine someone constantly trying to force you to smoke, and
you really want to, but can’t. That’s pretty much how I’m feeling
right now.”

“So the
Twilight Zone
is really
fuckin’ with ya’ big time, eh?”

“Yeah. A bit of an understatement, but yeah,
that’s about the best way I can explain it.”

“So you’re goin’ through all that, and you’re
still sittin’ there tellin’ me you’re okay,” he admonished.

“I am,” I replied. “It’s just something I
have to deal with. Sure, it would probably be easier to just let it
happen and be done with it, but I can’t do that.”

“Yeah, I guess Firehair would have your ass,
wouldn’t she?”

“Surprisingly, no. She actually suggested I
go ahead and give in.”

“Do what? Felicity? Are we talkin’ about the
same person?”

“Yeah, Ben, I know. After yesterday she
thinks maybe it’s worse on me when I fight it.”

“Worse? Jeezus H. Christ, Row… You sure you
don’t wanna just tell me what happened?”

“Maybe some other time, Ben.”

“Okay, so then tell me this: If Firehair is
okay with you goin’ to the
Twilight Zone
, why are ya’
puttin’ yourself through the bullshit?”

“The way I feel right now, I’m starting to
wonder that myself. If I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, okay. Well, I guess if ya’ ain’t gonna
give me details then I’m gonna hafta take your word for it.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No. Just sit tight and we’ll see what
happens.”

“You realize I’m not so good at that, right?
The just sittin’ by part, I mean.”

“Yeah, I know, but that’s about all we can do
right now. So anyway, can we maybe change the subject? Constantly
talking about it really isn’t helping, you know. It’s kind of like
offering me a cigarette.”

“Yeah…yeah, no problem… Actually, I did have
another reason for callin’. I got that info you wanted on
Devereaux’s attorney.”

“Great. I was afraid you might have forgotten
about that.”

“Didn’t forget, but it wasn’t exactly high on
the priority list until about half an hour ago.”

“Half an hour ago? Why?”

“‘Cause that’s about when a process server
showed up downstairs with a subpoena for me from Devereaux’s
mouthpiece. Kinda brought it back around, ya’know.”

“Subpoena? For what?’

“Deposition,” he grunted. “They wanna grill
me for a while. The bottom-feeders do this crap all the time.
Tryin’ ta’ find somethin’ they can twist and use to get their
client off. Technicality, or whatever… It ain’t unusual. But, I
should warn ya’…they’re prob’ly gonna ask me about Firehair and the
whole thing at that motel with Lewis.”

“Great.”

“Just thought you should know. But I wouldn’t
worry about it.”

“It’s kind of hard not to.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m tellin’ ya’ don’t.
It’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but I’m still sorry you’re getting
sucked into it.”

“Like I said, I’m used to this shit,” he
replied with an audible shrug in his voice. “Besides, I worked the
case. I was gonna get subpoenaed anyway. I’m just surprised it came
today.”

“Why’s that?”

“It ain’t my day off.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“It’s a cop thing, don’t worry about it.”

Obviously there was a hidden meaning in the
comment, but I didn’t press him for an explanation. His call
actually wasn’t the first I’d received this morning, and a quick
glance at the clock in the corner of my computer screen reminded me
that I had someplace to be in less than an hour. I simply jotted
down the information he had for me then rushed off the phone.

Whether I felt up to it or not, I really
needed to make it to this particular meeting. However, it had
become apparent over the course of the past several minutes that I
was going to need a handful of aspirin deposited into my system
before I did anything else.

“Thanks for meeting me here, Maggie,” I said
to the woman on the opposite side of the café table. “I know it’s
been a pain trying to get our schedules to jive, so I really
appreciate you calling this morning.”

“It’s no trouble, Rowan,” my mother-in-law
replied as she glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry I can only spare a
few minutes. I do need to be home soon.”

Maggie O’Brien was petite in stature, just
like her daughter. Of course, as was to be expected, there were
also several other resemblances between them; therefore, even with
a cursory glance there was definitely no denying their familial
connection—it was just that obvious. The ever-present Celtic lilt
in her voice simply cemented that observation on the audible level.
However, within a scant few minutes of conversation, it was easy to
see that my wife’s penchant for Gaelic curses must have come from
her father’s side and not her mother’s.

These days Maggie’s shag of hair was more
along the line of grey highlighted with chestnut, rather than the
other way around, as it had been when I first met her quite some
time ago. But other than that, she still maintained a far more
youthful appearance than her actual years, and almost anyone would
be hard pressed to pinpoint her true age simply by looking at
her.

“I understand,” I said with a nod. “But I
promise this shouldn’t take long.”

“I must admit, you’ve sounded rather urgent
on the phone when we’ve been trying to schedule this, so my
curiosity has been piqued.”

“I suppose I do owe you an apology for that.
I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t. Obviously it
is something important. But I
am
wondering about why you
insisted on speaking with me privately.”

I glanced around. We were sitting in the back
corner of a coffee house, and while they weren’t terribly busy at
the moment, that could easily change. For now, however, there were
only a few patrons besides us. If I had to guess I would say they
were all most likely students from the nearby university. Of
course, that assumption was a no-brainer given the proximity of the
college. That, and the book bags and notebook computers propped on
their tables. Complimentary wi-fi internet access was one of the
advertised features of this particular shop, and from the looks of
things it was definitely being used.

But, the truth is they didn’t really matter.
They were strangers. The people I didn’t want hearing this
conversation weren’t. They were family.

“Well, I wouldn’t say private, exactly,” I
returned with a shrug. “Maybe just somewhat confidential.”

Even though I had been trying to set up this
face-to-face with her for better than two months, I was finding it
hard to get the ball rolling. Now that the opportunity was finally
here, I had to take advantage of it and I knew that—even though my
head still hadn’t stopped pounding and a phantom pain was once
again setting up shop in my neck.

“In other words, you wanted to speak to me
without Shamus around,” she replied.

“Well, I think we both know I’m not his
favorite person,” I said, struggling not to wince as a fresh sting
made itself known. Unfortunately, I failed miserably and felt
myself physically twitch.

“Are you okay, then?” Maggie asked, furrowing
her brow as she looked at me.

I nodded slightly then picked up my
overpriced cup of coffee and took a sip, for no other reason than
to stall while the stab faded. “I’m fine,” I told her. “Just a
headache is all. Tension probably.”

“Did you take anything for it?”

“Yeah. I took some aspirin before I left the
house. Hopefully they’ll kick in soon.”

I knew full well the handful of analgesics
weren’t going to get rid of the pain, they never did. But if I was
lucky, they just might dull it enough for me to function, at least
until I was back home and didn’t have to do anything other than
stare at a wall.

“You aren’t coming down with something, are
you?” she asked.

“Maybe,” I agreed to appease her, just as I’d
done when I’d heard the same thing from my wife the day before. As
common as the simple question was, the way she asked it gave me the
distinct impression Felicity had picked up a few verbal traits from
her mother as well.

Before Maggie could push any further, I
continued my earlier thought. “So, like I was saying, since I’m
sure Shamus would just as soon not have any more contact with me
than he has to, I thought we should meet someplace other than your
house.”