Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (11 page)

“He would just have to get over it then,” she
replied. “But I certainly understand your not wanting to deal with
him right now. We all know Shamus can be very vocal about his
opinions, not to mention totally unreasonable as well.”

“Thanks for seeing my side of things,” I said
with a slight nod.

There was a time when I would have been
shocked to hear her say that about her husband. I had long been
under the impression I was merely tolerated by the majority of my
wife’s family, especially her parents. I couldn’t be sure of all
the factors surrounding the negative sentiment, but I knew the
primary reason was because of my religious beliefs since I had been
told as much. In fact, I had even been accused more than once of
corrupting Felicity, which was laughable given that she had been a
practicing Witch long before I ever met her.

However, very recently, some of the dynamic
had radically changed due to an O’Brien clan secret that had been
brought into the light. With it had come a personal revelation
that, while minor in comparison to the secret itself, was
monumental to me: it was the fact that Shamus was really the only
one who truly had the issues.

Unfortunately, his self-righteous attitude
where I was concerned hadn’t dulled in the wake of the shakeup,
even though he was actually the one harboring the dirty deeds. It
didn’t seem to matter to him that the family skeleton revealed was
the fact that he had carried on an extramarital affair with his
sister-in-law, Caitlin, and had even fathered a child with her.
Granted, something like that certainly wasn’t the end of the world,
but it wasn’t exactly nothing either. However, Maggie had
apparently forgiven him since she had found out about it early on,
and they had still stayed together all these years. So, in that
sense, it was all water under the bridge. The real problem was that
his lapse of fidelity went far deeper than simple betrayal. The
child the union had produced was instantly given up for adoption
under pressure from the family. Again, not a truly big deal until
you considered the fact that she had eventually grown up to become
a twisted serial killer named Annalise Devereaux.

While Shamus couldn’t necessarily be blamed
for her sociopathic tendencies, I would have thought such an
outcome would at least give him pause. Especially given that a
partial DNA match had prompted murder charges being brought against
his daughter with Maggie—namely, Felicity.

But, it hadn’t. And, since he still tried to
twist everything that had happened to somehow be my fault, I was
firmly convinced I would never be able to understand his particular
level of arrogance.

“Are you certain you’re okay, Rowan?” Maggie
finally asked.

“What?”

“I asked if you’re certain you are okay,” she
repeated. “You seem a bit disconnected.”

I sighed. “I suppose I am. I have quite a bit
on my mind. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Thanks.”

“So here we are. I understand why you want to
avoid Shamus, but what about Felicity, then?” she asked, cocking
her head to the side and giving me an odd glance. “Are you keeping
secrets from her now?”

Her question was honest and direct, so I
answered in kind, “Only when I don’t want her to worry.”

“What is it you aren’t wanting her to worry
about?”

My inability to broach the subject I had come
here to discuss was now moot. Thankfully, Maggie was providing the
opening, even if she didn’t realize it.

I dug in my jacket pocket then extracted a
small jar that had originally held some herb or spice. At first
glance, the capped glass cylinder appeared to be filled with
nothing more that tiny white granules. However, I gave it several
rapid shakes, and the crystals shifted to reveal a delicate chain,
at the end of which was a pendant. I continued carefully tapping
the jar against the edge of the table until I had successfully
uncovered the small half coin ornament, bringing its face fully
into view.

Holding the container at an angle, I showed
it to Maggie. “I need for you to tell me whatever you can about
this necklace.”

My mother-in-law looked through the glass at
the piece of jewelry. Her face had bordered on being expressionless
as she leaned forward, but I caught a quick smile that was
immediately followed by a frown tugging hard at the corners of her
mouth. With a quiet sigh she sat back and looked up to my face then
shrugged while shaking her head as if there was nothing to
tell.

“I’m used to seeing Felicity wear that. Does
she know you are carrying it about in a bottle?”

“As a matter of fact, she does.”

“What is in there with it?” she asked. “It
looks like salt…or maybe sugar.”

“You were correct on the first guess.
Salt.”

“Do you mind if I ask why?”

“It’s complicated, but trust me, I have my
reasons.”

She glanced back at the bottle for a moment
as if her eyes were drawn there, then looked up and stared over my
shoulder. “Honestly, I try not to think too much about that
necklace. Of course, that’s hard when I see it around my daughter’s
neck.”

“Why?”

“Like you, I have my reasons.”

“I see. Felicity said you gave it to her,” I
offered.

“Yes, years ago. When she was a
teenager.”

“So, it’s a family heirloom then?”

She finally brought her gaze back to meet
mine. “Yes and no. I’m sure that it was for someone,” she mused.
“But, not my family. Shamus gave it to me for my birthday a long
time ago.”

I nodded. “So then it didn’t belong to his
mother or someone else on his side either?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head again.
“It’s definitely an antique, but he bought it while he was away on
business in New Orleans.”

The reference to the Crescent City alone was
enough to make me catch my breath. Less than three months ago I had
been there in search of Annalise, and more importantly, Miranda. It
was starting to look like my suspicion may be closer to the mark
than I originally imagined.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” I began, “if
this was a birthday gift…”

She interrupted and finished the question
“…why did I give it away?”

I shrugged. “Well…yes.”

“Unpleasant memories,” she replied, a
coldness in her tone. “You see, I later found out my sister was
with him on that trip. I think you know the rest of that
story.”

“Which would be your reason for not thinking
about the necklace,” I stated the obvious as my brain did the
math.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d be dredging
that up again.”

She gave me a thin smile. “It isn’t your
fault, Rowan. It had been dredged up anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
She bobbed her head toward the necklace. “In retrospect I really
should have taken it to a jeweler or pawnbroker years ago, then I
would actually have been rid of it. But I didn’t and that is my
fault. Felicity found it in my jewelry case when she was borrowing
something.” She shrugged then added, “She was just so taken with it
that I gave it to her. I regret the decision every time I see her
wearing it.”

I nodded. “I can understand that.”

“My turn for a question then. Why do you have
a sudden interest in this particular necklace?”

I glanced at the bottle as I turned it in my
hands, then stuffed it back into my pocket and cleared my throat.
“It’s hard to explain, Maggie. And I don’t mean to sound secretive.
Really. Let’s just say I’m trying to get something straight in my
head is all, and the necklace is a part of it.”

“I see,” she replied. “And this something
would in some way make Felicity worry?”

“Yes, I’m certain it would.”

“But she isn’t already concerned that you are
carrying the necklace around in a bottle of salt?”

I sighed. “Like I said, it’s hard to
explain.”

She let out a flat chuckle. “Actually, I
understand… Your motivation at least… I know it hurt Felicity to
find out what her father had done. If she knew the story behind
that necklace…”

“I won’t tell her,” I said as her voice
trailed off. “I promise.”

“I won’t press you about your reasons then,”
she said. “I may not believe the same things you and my daughter
apparently do, Rowan, but I know that you love her just as she
loves you. And I believe that you are convinced that you are doing
what is best for her.”

“Thanks, Maggie,” I said with a smile. “I
appreciate that. And, you’re right. On all counts.” I paused for a
second then continued. “So, I only have a couple more questions, I
promise. Since the necklace was an antique, do you know if Shamus
received any sort of paperwork with it? Something that might have
given a history or identified the original owner?”

“None that I am aware,” she replied, shaking
her head. “If he did I never saw it.”

I frowned. I hadn’t expected a yes, but there
was always that little glimmer of hope. Until now, that is. “Okay,
last question. I know this is a long shot, but since the pendant is
a half coin, do you remember if he mentioned the jeweler happening
to have a mate to it?”

She nodded. “Actually, yes. There was
definitely a mate. Shamus bought both of them. He gave the one in
your pocket to me, and we gave the other to my sister. He thought
it a fitting birthday gift since we were twins. It was after that
when their story began to unravel, and I found out the truth.”

My heart skipped and I swallowed hard. “Do
you by any chance know what might have happened to the other
necklace?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” she said. “I don’t
recall seeing it after Caitlin died, but that was so long ago. I
simply assumed that she had either lost it, or maybe even sold it.
I suspect her memories of the whole incident were as tainted as
mine. Maybe more so given what happened with her daughter.”

I was fairly certain I had an idea where the
necklace had ended up, and it wasn’t either of the options she
mentioned. The fact that Maggie hadn’t come across it in her
sister’s personal belongings all but confirmed it for me. The
police investigation into Annalise’s background had turned up the
fact that Caitlin had made multiple attempts at recovering her from
the orphanage only to be stopped at every turn. She had then fallen
into deep despair and eventually took her own life. Something told
me one of Caitlin’s final acts of defiance against her family and
the system had been to somehow get that necklace to her infant
daughter. When I included the fact that the night Annalise was
taken into custody, she had ripped Felicity’s necklace from her
neck, claiming that it was hers, the final pieces of that puzzle
slipped together with no effort.

Maggie glanced at her watch then back to me.
“I hate to rush off, but if you don’t have any more questions I
should really get home before Shamus decides to get in the kitchen
and make himself a snack or something. Otherwise, I’ll be cleaning
up forever.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the candid
observation. “I understand. And, Maggie… Thanks. Believe me, you’ve
helped more than you realize.”

* * * * *

I walked my mother-in-law out to her vehicle
and bid her goodbye, then watched as she pulled from the parking
lot. With what she had just told me, my working theory had not only
been confirmed but expanded as well. While I had suspected the
existence of the other necklace ever since the incident the night
Annalise had been taken into custody, I hadn’t dreamed it would
have as deep a connection, and on as many levels, as it obviously
did. Because of that, my resolve to find the hardware behind the
spell and put an end to it was re-doubled.

I started to head toward my truck but stopped
after only a few steps. The dull pounding in my head seemed to be
getting worse. In fact, it was now moving beyond hard to ignore and
right into semi-blinding. I knew I had some aspirin in my vehicle,
and with a little luck a quick dose might take the edge off, at
least until I could get home. But it was going to take awhile to
get into my system. At the rate the ethereal ache was ramping up, I
felt I might need something to help it along. Since caffeine always
helped speed up the analgesic effects for me, I did an about face
and headed back into the coffee house.

After a short wait in line, I placed my order
for a large specialty latte, peeled off a five to pay for it, then
dumped the resulting change into the tip jar on the counter. While
I was waiting, it occurred to me that I would be facing some
traffic between here and home and the possibility that it might
take longer than I expected to arrive at my destination. I’d
already downed one large coffee and was about to start on another.
A pre-emptive pit stop suddenly made an enormous amount of
sense.

“Excuse me,” I called to the young lady
preparing my drink. I pointed in the direction of the restrooms and
said, “I’ll be right back.”

She smiled and nodded that she understood my
gesture.

Fortunately, the facilities weren’t occupied
so I was able to take care of business fairly quickly. As I was
washing my hands, however, the migraine suddenly elected to ramp up
several notches at once, sending a sharp lance of pain through the
back of my head. Semi-blinding became near total, as light bloomed
throughout my field of vision and I squeezed my eyes shut. I
stumbled then caught myself and leaned against the basin for
support as I gasped in response to a sudden repeat of the
attack.

The side of my neck had been stinging, and it
now erupted into an agonizing burn. Dizziness started creeping in,
and a wave of nausea undulated through my gut. I reopened my eyes
in hopes that focusing on something would help. Unfortunately, the
first thing I saw were the stark splatters of bright red on the
edge of the sink, trickling across pristine white porcelain as they
formed spidery rivulets. I watched as the blood languidly
intermixed with the still running water, tingeing it with overblown
color before spiraling down the drain.