Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (3 page)

Read Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation Online

Authors: M. R. Sellars

Tags: #fiction, #thriller, #horror, #suspense, #mystery, #police procedural, #occult, #paranormal, #serial killer, #witchcraft

BOOK: Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation
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One by one, the half dozen men came forward
and placed their boutonnieres atop the casket. Then each of them
stepped over to the row of seated family members and offered their
personal condolences before continuing on and melting into the
crowd. My friend was the last of them, and he lingered silently for
several moments before finally placing his flower with the rest. At
this distance it was hard to tell for sure, but I thought I could
see the glisten of tears welling in his dark eyes too.

 

* * * * *

 

“That was a nice service,” I commented,
offering the platitude because I wasn’t really sure what else to
say.

“Yeah,” Ben acknowledged, nodding his head
slightly as he spoke. “Yeah… it was.”

We were standing on the walkway between the
gravesite and the access road that ran through the cemetery. Ben’s
van was parked nearby along one side of the narrow, paved stretch.
Since Felicity and I had been farther behind in the procession, my
truck was out of sight around the corner at the back of the
memorial gardens.

People were still in the process of leaving,
and we had decided to give them a few minutes to clear out before
we added ourselves to the crush of traffic trying to exit onto the
main road. I really didn’t mind the wait, especially since this was
the first chance in several days that I’d had to speak with my
friend at any length. Between everything that had happened only a
few nights ago and him being so involved in the funeral
arrangements, he had been scarce. Of course I couldn’t blame it all
on him. We had been doing our fair share of hiding out as well, so
it hadn’t been easy for him to reach us either.

There was a cold breeze blowing, and Felicity
was snuggled in against me, trying to keep warm. I glanced to the
side, then kissed her lightly on the forehead and hugged her close.
Looking at her now, I had to admit that I was still getting used to
the new hairstyle. While her loose curls had somewhat returned, and
the temporary black dye was gone for the most part, it still left a
dull patina, which made her normally fiery mane appear a darker
auburn. And, of course, it was much shorter—now hanging only just
past her shoulders instead of the longer waist length cascade it
had been ever since I’d met her many years ago. The
uncharacteristic coif certainly didn’t keep me from thinking she
was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes upon, but the
current picture I saw with those eyes was definitely different from
the one I remembered whenever they were closed.

Of course, we had all experienced radical
change in the past month, both physical and emotional—some worse
than others, and some far more permanent. With time, the physical
issues would heal, become accepted as the norm, or return to their
original states of being. The emotional changes were the wild card
because exactly how the deeper alterations to our psyches would
manifest still remained to be seen. For better or worse, we would
just have to ride them out.

At the moment, my wife was keeping quiet
amidst the halting conversation, and a dismal air still surrounded
her just as it did all of us. Her sadness, however, was a bit more
obvious as she was unconsciously broadcasting it with everything
from her expression to her posture. At least the flow of tears had
stopped, so I knew she was coping well enough that I didn’t need to
worry about her too much for the moment. Still, I suspected her
current state was influenced by far more than just the funeral. I
knew it definitely was for me.

I turned my gaze back to my friend and said,
“There were quite a few more cops here than I expected,
considering.”

“Yeah, I know,” he grunted. “Me too. Turns
out a bunch of ‘em even took vacation or comp time ta’ be
here.”

“That says a lot.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Are you going to the house, then?” Felicity
finally interjected, her voice soft.

“Prob’ly a little later,” he said, as he
looked over at her with a quick nod and then glanced at his watch.
“I told Constance’s parents I’d take ‘em ta’ lunch.”

“How are they handling everything?” she
asked.

“‘Bout as well as can be expected under the
circumstances, I guess. It’s not every day a fucked up serial
killer shoots your kid.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m sure it has to be a
nightmare for them. Especially after losing their son.”

“Tell me about it. Her dad keeps goin’ on
about how Constance was s’posed ta’ be a partner in ‘is law firm,
not an FBI agent,” Ben added. “Her mom is kinda quiet though… Just
stares off inta’ space a lot.”

“Everyone deals with their emotions
differently, Ben.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, how is Constance doing anyway?” I
asked.

“Hangin’ in there,” he replied. “You knew
they upgraded ‘er from critical ta’ serious, right?”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded. “That’s pretty much all
anyone would tell us though.”

“Yeah, well the docs are optimistic right
now, but she’s still kinda out of it. She’s been conscious enough
ta’ talk a coupla times but nothin’ that makes sense. Then she just
drifts off again. Prob’ly ‘cause of all the painkiller shit they
got runnin’ into ‘er veins. I honestly dunno if she even realizes
what’s goin’ on at this point, but I figure after lunch I’ll go sit
with ‘er awhile anyway. That’ll give ‘er folks a chance ta’ rest
too.”

“I thought they were only letting immediate
family members in to see her?” I said with a questioning note in my
voice.

“Yeah, that’s what they said the first time I
went in,” he grunted. “But I got a fuckin’ badge.”

“I thought you were still suspended?”

“Yeah, for a few weeks yet, but the hospital
doesn’t know that.”

“Uh-huh, I should have figured.”

“Ben,” Felicity asked. “Since they won’t let
us see her, can you keep us up to date on how she’s doing?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

I leaned to the side and looked around him at
the line of cars. “Looks like they’re still backed up a bit.”

He cast a glance over his shoulder. “I’m not
surprised. It oughta’ be clear in a few though.”

A thick silence settled in around us as the
breeze rose and fell. Felicity shivered against the sharp wind even
though she was wearing a coat, so I hugged her even closer.

“Would you be more comfortable waiting in the
truck?” I asked her.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

“You’re sure?”

“Aye,” she returned with a slight nod. “For
now.”

I looked back to my friend after a short
silence and nodded toward the distant gravesite. “You know, Ben,
that was a real good thing you did. I mean the honor guard and
all.”

“Wasn’t just me,” he objected with an
animated shake of his head. “B’sides, didn’t really take much. All
I did was make a coupl’a phone calls.”

“Something tells me there was more to it than
that.”

“Maybe a little, but not much really once the
ball was rollin’ and a few favors got called in. Shit, everyone
that ever worked with Deckert loved ‘im.”

“He was a hell of a guy,” I agreed. “I’ll
never forget how well he treated me even when the rest of the cops
had issues with a Witch as a consultant.”

“Yeah, that was Deck, for sure. Which is
exactly why we couldn’t let it go. Just ‘cause the department
doesn’t do anything for retiree funerals doesn’t mean the rest of
us coppers ain’t gonna make it happen anyway. He was one of ours.
If anyone deserved it, it was him.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” I said with a nod.
“I’m sure his wife appreciated it too.”

“Yeah, Mona’s good people,” he grunted as he
reached up to smooth back his hair then allowed his hand to slide
down and rest on his neck. He closed his eyes then gave his head a
slight shake as he sighed, “Jeezus, Row… He was just sittin’ there
lookin’ at the tube and had a goddamn heart attack. How fucked up
is that?”

“Sometimes that’s how it happens. He had a
history. That’s what forced him into retirement to begin with.”

“Yeah, but it was at almost exactly the same
time, Row. There’s gotta be somethin’ to that.”

I knew exactly where he was heading with the
comment, as he had mentioned it to me earlier at the funeral home,
but at that point we hadn’t had time for discussion.

“It was just a coincidence, Ben.” I shook my
head as I spoke. “There was no connection between what happened to
Constance and Carl’s heart attack.”

“How do ya’ know that?”

“Well, I guess I really don’t. Not for an
absolute fact, anyway.” I shrugged.

“So then why are ya’ bein’ a skeptic all of a
sudden? Deck treated Constance like she was ‘is own daughter. Think
about it…” He started ticking off points with the fingers of his
free hand. “Damn near the same time. The ambulance brought Deck ta’
the same hospital as her instead of goin’ ta’ one of the closer
ones out in the county. When he arrived he was stable. Then it all
goes south for Constance while she’s on the table. The docs bring
‘er back, but suddenly Deck keels over right there in the treatment
room, and they can’t revive ‘im. Hell, you’re the friggin’ Witch,
not me. Ain’t this your kinda shit? You of all people can’t tell me
that doesn’t seem a little
Twilight Zone
, white man. Like
some kinda trade off or somethin’.”

I didn’t figure this was an appropriate time
to argue with him over the realities of WitchCraft, or even my
personal psychic abilities—something that I actually considered to
be an unfortunate curse as opposed to a gift. Over the years I’d
already explained to him more than a dozen times that magick didn’t
work quite like he sometimes wanted to think it did. Of course, I
was also well aware that I probably sounded like some kind of
hypocrite every time I said as much, given that he had seen me
unwillingly channel murder victims on several occasions. And of
course, there was our most recent brush with the ethereal, which
left even me wondering just what to believe. It was hard to
convince someone that the paranormal
wasn’t
the everyday way
of things when it seemed to rain down on you constantly the way it
did with me.

Still, Ben had started out a skeptic the
first time he’d enlisted my help, and he continued walking a jagged
line between acceptance and doubt. At the moment, his path was
obviously veering deeply into the belief side of the two, if for no
other reason than to help him make sense out of tragedy. Of course,
that was something we all had a tendency to do when faced with
realities we weren’t sure we wanted to accept.

“Did Carl even know about Constance?” I
asked.

“I dunno…” he shook his head. “Prob’ly not. I
didn’t even know what was happenin’ with him until Mona called my
cell, and he was already gone by then. But that’s not the point.
What about some kinda divine intervention or somethin’?”

“I know that’s how it might look on the
surface,” I told him. “Believe me, I’m not denying that at all. But
we all know that looks can be deceiving. Maybe I’m wrong in this
case, but not everything that happens is being influenced by some
ethereal cosmic force. Sometimes a coincidence is just that, Ben. A
coincidence.”

“You’re the last person on earth I’d expect
ta’ say somethin’ like that, Row.”

“Yeah, I know. It does sound kind of strange
coming from me, doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh… Well, maybe you’re right, but that
don’t make it any less weird-ass fucked up. Know what I mean?”

I let out my own sigh then hung my head and
contemplated the asphalt surface of the pathway. “I’ll give you
that.”

When I looked up again he was still frowning
and massaging his neck. After a moment he let his hand drop then
glanced at his watch again. Casting another gaze over his shoulder
at the access road, he sighed, “Looks like it’s startin’ ta’ break
up a bit. Should be in good shape in a minute or two.”

“Yeah,” I replied with a nod.

“Rowan, why don’t you go ahead and give me
your keys then,” Felicity said, shivering as she spoke. “I think
maybe I will go warm up in the truck. Besides, I’m sure I need to
fix my makeup.”

“You’re pretty enough just like you are,” I
told her but still dug around in my pocket and extracted the keys
then handed them to her.

“Aye and you’re blind,” she returned. “I’d
rather check for myself.”

I could hear in her voice that the words had
been delivered on automatic. They were her pat response to being
told she looked just fine, and right now she was too emotionally
preoccupied for anything more interactive. I envied her that, but
not in a begrudging sense. I would have a chance to take my
feelings off hold later. I hoped.

In reality, her desire to wait in the truck
was serendipitous. I still had a question for Ben, but it was
something I didn’t want to ask with Felicity around. It had been
starting to look as though it was going to have to wait, but now a
fresh opportunity was emerging. Of course, given the nature of the
question and the fact that I had just poked holes in the thin
fabric of my friend’s already tenuous belief in the paranormal, I
wasn’t sure he would take me seriously. At the very least, I knew I
was once again going to be playing the hypocrite in his eyes.

“You take care of yourself, Felicity,” Ben
told her. “Do me a favor and tell Mona I’ll be by later, okay?”

“I will,” she answered, detaching from me and
stepping forward to give him a hug. “I’m sure she would appreciate
that. You’ll give Constance our love, then?”

“Yeah, will do.” He gave her a squeeze in
return while saying. “You gonna be okay?”

“Aye,” she said. “Eventually.”

“Ya’know she was doin’ ‘er job, right?
Constance doesn’t blame you for what happened.”

“You can’t know that, Ben.”

“Yeah, I can. Trust me, it’s a cop
thing.”

“Maybe so,” my wife replied as she pulled
away, tears starting to well in her eyes again. “But that
doesn’t…”

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