Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (20 page)

Both Ben and Constance were fanatically meticulous
about premeditated omission of the paranormal details when it came
to their reports. There were simply some events that had no logical
explanation—certain happenings that, when committed to paper, came
off as too bizarre for belief, especially to the uninitiated and
devoutly skeptical. If either of them actually tried including some
of the things they’d personally witnessed, they would most likely
find their careers becoming stagnant or even non-existent.

Of course, how they found out really didn’t matter
in the grand scheme of things. What it now boiled down to was the
fact that I was correct. My third attempt at ducking the radar was
a bust. So were the first and second apparently. I no longer had
“you wouldn’t believe me if I told you” to hide behind, and that
left me suddenly feeling very naked.

“Okay…” I finally said. “Since you are all about the
truth, are you hiding anything else up your collective sleeves, or
are we all really on the same page now?”

Special Agent Hanley spoke first. “This is nothing
we were hiding. Obviously we’re familiar with both your
backgrounds. I mean it’s really no secret to anyone, especially
given the high profile cases on which you’ve consulted for the
local police in the past.”

“The official reports don’t include the paranormal
aspects of the investigations,” I countered. “You and I both know
that.”

“Official reports, no. But neither of you are
particularly shy about your beliefs, and trust me, what you do when
consulting on a case makes its way through the grapevine even if it
doesn’t go into a report.”

“Obviously… Well, I guess I really shouldn’t be
surprised by that. Or by the fact that you did your homework.
Actually, I suppose I should be shocked if you hadn’t, especially
since you’ve been playing us from the word go. But, like you said,
since we don’t hide our beliefs, that’s really a moot point.” I
shifted in my seat then tossed my glance back and forth between
them before adding, “I am a bit curious about where this is going,
however. So, let’s continue our trend of honesty here. I’m guessing
you’re both more than just a little skeptical about our take on
Miranda, which is no surprise either.”

“Well, we certainly don’t subscribe to a belief that
the immortal soul of a dead woman is taking possession of living
bodies in order to commit crimes,” Doctor Jante replied. “Quite
honestly, Mister Gant, that’s ludicrous.”

“Okay, so obviously ‘skeptical’ wasn’t a strong
enough word,” I remarked as I shrugged. “You pretty much think
we’re nuts. Fine. Once again, no big surprise there. I’ve got a few
of those t-shirts too.”

“Neither of us said we think you’re insane,” she
countered.

“No, but you didn’t have to,” I replied. “I’ve seen
the look before. So, let’s quit dancing around and get to the real
issue here. The way I figure it, either you’re actually afraid that
Devereaux’s attorney is going to use this to somehow discredit the
prosecution, or you have a different agenda.”

“No agenda, as you put it, Mister Gant,” she
replied. “We’re simply doing a criminal investigative analysis to
support the federal prosecutor, like we just explained. All of our
cards are on the table at this point.”

“Yeah…until the next one appears,” I huffed. “So,
unless I missed my guess, you have a different theory about who
Miranda is?”

Doctor Jante shook her head and tossed her gaze back
and forth between Felicity and me. “Actually, I wish I could say
that you’re correct, but right now we’re just working on the basis
that there must be something latent that is shared between
Devereaux and you, Miz O’Brien. Something we’ve missed that could
explain her intimate knowledge of you.”

“The only thing we share is some DNA, and I’m none
too excited about that,” my wife spat. “Like I already told you, I
didn’t even know Annalise existed until a few months ago when this
all started.”

“Devereaux says the same thing. In fact, it would
appear her base personality is even more in the dark than you. She
isn’t aware of your familial ties at all.”

“Good. I’d like to keep it that way if you don’t
mind.”

“I have no intention of telling her, but I’m certain
her attorney knows. And, you must understand that it will come out
at some point during the trial, if not before. That much is a
given.”

“
Fek
…” my wife muttered.

“The concern, however, is the alleged personality
called Miranda. She knows far too much about you, as you already
heard. Any way you slice it, Miranda or Annalise, she is creating a
tangible connection that can be used to implicate you in the
crimes.”

“That connection is exactly why Annalise wanted to
kill me,” Felicity returned, exasperation in her voice. “Just like
Miranda said. Believe me, none of it was my choice.”

“None of what?”

“None of what you refuse to believe.”

“Miz O’Brien, even if we chose to believe such a
thing could happen, there’s no possible way to prove it in a court
of law,” Agent Hanley insisted.

“Which is just another reason I wasn’t saying
anything about it in the first place,” my wife spat as she looked
over at him then returned her gaze to Doctor Jante. “So, do I pass
your test now?”

“At this point we aren’t doubting that you sincerely
believe what you are saying,” she replied.

“Do you believe in God, Doctor Jante?” I asked,
attempting to shunt the conversation toward our favor.

Hanley interjected. “I know where you are going with
that Mister Gant, and it won’t work. I can assure you the court
will gladly agree that you are free to believe anything you want,
but belief in something does not make it a tangible fact.”

“Okay, different avenue then. If I’ve been following
you correctly, Miranda is the problem. Annalise is simply
oblivious. So if all you are dealing with is Annalise, no
problem.”

“Yes, that’s correct, more or less.”

“Then I guess that’s our option,” I replied.

“What do you mean?” Jante asked.

I took a deep breath then let the sentence fly
before I could talk myself out of it. “I need to make Miranda go
away for good.”

Hanley shot a skewed look at Jante then back to me.
When he spoke again there was a note of warning in his voice.
“Mister Gant, you should know that…”

“Please don’t misunderstand…” I said, cutting him
off. “I’m not implying anything sinister or illegal. Like I said,
Miranda, not Annalise.”

“All right, I’ll play along. Let’s assume for a
moment Miranda really is what you say she is. How do you propose to
make her go away?”

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” I said. “But
I know it has to start with me talking directly to Annalise
myself.”

“Row, would you mind if we postponed this
afternoon’s plans,” Felicity asked as we exited the lobby of the
FBI field office on Market Street, downtown.

“Not in the mood anymore?” I returned.

“Yes and no,” she said. “I mean, I am in some ways,
but all that talk about Miranda has me a bit squeamish. It kind of
put a damper on the idea if you know what I mean. It’s just that…
Well we could… But, you know I’m afraid I might…”

I slipped my arm around her shoulder and gave her a
squeeze then kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t need to
explain, hon, I know exactly what you mean. Don’t worry about it.
Why don’t we just grab some lunch and maybe catch a matinee or
something instead.”

I could tell the whole encounter still had her
rattled just by the way her voice was slipping into a heavier
brogue. Just like exhaustion, intense emotions had a way of doing
that to her. Her anxiety definitely wasn’t uncalled for. She had
every right to it, and even more.

“Aye, sounds like a plan,” she agreed.

“How about the Metro Diner?”

“What? Not Charlie’s? I mean, anywhere is fine with
me, but we’re already downtown after all, and Metro is back toward
the suburbs.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, I know. But Chuck doesn’t
serve liver and onions. Metro does.”

“Liver and onions… Having a craving are we
then?”

“Yeah, actually… I think maybe I am.”

“I’ll pass on that,” she added. “I think maybe I’d
be happy with a BLT or something of that sort myself.”

“I’m pretty sure Metro has them on the menu.”

We stopped at the curb and waited for a car to cross
in front of us. The sun was shining between a light scattering of
clouds, and there was a soft breeze blowing. We were at the tail
end of the unusual warm spell, so the temperature had only crept up
near fifty and probably wasn’t going to climb much farther. Closer
to typical for a Midwestern March, but then, this was Saint Louis.
Weather always seemed to be a roll of the dice here, no matter how
hard the meteorologists tried to nail it down. Even so, to me it
seemed almost springlike.

As we waited for a second vehicle to roll by, I
shrugged out of my jacket and slung it over my shoulder then
slipped my arm back around Felicity. Once the lane was clear, we
stepped off the curb and aimed ourselves toward her Jeep.

After a moment she spoke up again. “Do you think
they’ll actually go for it?”

“Who go for what?”

“Letting you speak to Annalise.”

“Oh, that,” I replied. “I guess we’ll have to wait
and see. They definitely didn’t seem sold on the idea, did
they?”

She shook her head and pursed her lips as she
frowned. “Even if they change their minds and will arrange it, I
can’t imagine her attorney would be too happy about letting you
then.”

“True story,” I agreed. “But, if she decides she’s
willing to talk to me, and it’s her choice, then maybe there’s a
chance. If the people with the badges will go for it.”

She fell quiet until we split apart, and I ushered
her in front of me between a pair of parked vehicles.

“And what you need to talk to her about is the
necklace,” she said over her shoulder, offering the words as a
statement rather than a question.

“Yes.”

She slowed then stopped and turned
to face me. “So do you maybe want to explain that to me
now
, or is it still a big
secret?”

“Want, yes,” I replied, shaking my head. “But like I
said, I can’t…not just yet.”

“Why not?”

“I made someone a promise.”

“Who?”

“Honey, I can’t really say…”

She studied my face for a moment then let out what
sounded to be an abbreviated version of an exasperated sigh. “It’s
a good damn thing I trust you, Rowan Linden Gant.”

“Yeah, believe me, I know.”

I felt a tickle on my side, somewhere even with my
beltline. The soft vibration was quickly followed by a short chirp
and a muffled feminine voice. I reached down and pulled my cell
phone from its holder then glanced at the display. As I suspected
it was notifying me that I had several new voicemails. I flipped
the device open and scrolled through the missed calls. Every single
one came from the same familiar number.

“Ben,” I said aloud, turning the display toward
Felicity and holding it up for her to see.

“Aye, no surprise that.” She nodded, glancing at the
LCD. “Better call him back before he works himself into a
snit.”

I half chuckled. “This is Ben you’re talking about.
I’m sure he already has…”

She turned and continued walking the dozen or so
steps to her Jeep. As I followed along, I thumbed the button so the
cell would dial the most recently missed call then placed it
against my ear.

“It’s about time,” Ben’s voice issued from the
speaker following the first half of the third ring. “I been tryin’
ta’ call ya’ back for two hours, but all I got was your friggin’
voicemail.”

“Whatever happened to just plain hello?” I
asked.

“Simple. Our fast-paced lives and caller ID made it
obsolete.”

“Listen to you…” I jibed. “Mister high tech social
commentator.”

“Not a chance… I just heard some asshole say that on
the news the other day. I think he was talkin’ about manners or
somethin’, but it sounded like it would fit.”

“Yeah, I should have figured as much,” I grunted.
“Well, I’m sorry for the delay in calling, but apparently I wasn’t
getting a signal for the past couple of hours, so I just now got
the voicemail notifications.”

In that moment anything resembling lightheartedness
fled from his voice. “So listen, Row, did I understand your message
right? You’n Firehair actually had a meetin’ with the Feebs this
mornin’?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. We just got out of it as a
matter of fact.”

“Unfortunately? That doesn’t sound good… So what’s
the deal?”

“Long story short, Miranda is still trying to get to
Felicity.”

“Yeah, you’ve been sayin’ that’d happen. But what’ve
the Feebs got ta’ do with it?”

“Well, it seems that at the moment her plan of
attack is to implicate Felicity in the murders.”

“Fuck me… We’ve already been down this road…”

“Tell me about it.”

“So they ain’t buyin’ into ‘er story, are they?”

“I don’t think so. At least, they say they aren’t,
but I really don’t know for sure. We were talking to a pair from
the BAU, and they weren’t exactly forthcoming with the whole story
in the beginning. It took a bit to drag it out of them, and I’m
still not convinced they aren’t leaving something out.”

“Not surprisin’. So, that just a hunch or did ya’
get a hinky feelin’?”

“A little of both, I think. Something weird is
definitely going on. I just don’t know what it is. I’m not freaking
out just yet, but I’m definitely just this side of worried.”

“Great… So, weird how?”

“Weird like maybe someone behind the scenes is
calling the shots.”