The End Of Desire: A Rowan Gant Investigation (17 page)

I had to lift my head slightly to see her
because at present I was lying back on a table in a treatment room
of a hospital. Earlier, when a nurse had been asking me for
insurance information, she mentioned that I was at Charity Campus
or something of that sort. My brain had still been a bit muddled at
the time, so I hadn’t really registered much. Not that I would have
really known where it was to begin with. All I knew was that it
seemed like I spent a lot of time in places like this whenever I
got involved in an investigation. It was a wonder my insurance
carrier hadn’t dropped me yet. If they didn’t this time, I was sure
they would be raising my premiums. That was something they always
did without fail.

“Yeah, that,” I muttered, reaching up and
brushing my fingers against the gauze bandage now covering the
wounds. I felt a tug on the back of my hand and gave it a glance. I
had pretty much forgotten about the IV line taped securely to it. I
gave it a half-hearted wiggle to reposition the tubing then laid my
hand back across my chest. “Teeth too.”

“How is the arm, by the way?” she asked,
nodding in the direction of the other appendage which was now
wrapped in its own windings of sterile dressing.

“Not bad right now. But, I can already tell
the local is wearing off.”

I had lost track of how long I had been here.
I’d been drifting in and out for a while although I had officially
regained consciousness at right about the moment they were
preparing to slide me onto the treatment table upon arriving in the
emergency room. Since my most recent memory at that point—other
than the disembodied voice—had been that of chasing after Annalise,
my body seemed to think it was something I needed to continue
doing. I was told that it had taken both paramedics and a nurse to
keep me from coming off the gurney at a dead run.

“Do you know if they’ve found her yet?”

“Not that I’ve heard, but I’m not really in
the loop.”

I shook my head as best I could since it was
resting against the pillow, and with a full load of sarcasm
muttered, “Fucking wonderful.”

“Tough little bitch, isn’t she?” she stated
as much as asked.

“Reminds me of my wife,” I replied but didn’t
expand further.

“That’s some wife.”

“You have no idea.” I sighed then tried to
reposition myself a bit so that I wasn’t talking at the ceiling.
“So, where did you go back at the cemetery? I looked up and you
were just gone.”

“I left my cell in my car. I ran back to call
the police like you said.”

“Oh.”

“Feeling abandoned, were you?”

“Maybe a little,” I admitted. “It’s not like
we know each other all that well. A lot of folks wouldn’t have
wanted to get involved…especially after listening to my outlandish
story and then hearing her scream ‘rape.’”

“I was already involved,” she told me. “I
took you there, remember? Besides, I’m not like a lot of
folks.”

“I’m getting that impression… And, believe
me, right now I appreciate that more than you know.”

It grew quiet in the room except for the
noises of the staff out in the hall. I rested my head back against
the pillow and stared at the ceiling for a long while,
contemplating the acoustic tiles as I tried to ignore the various
aches that hadn’t benefited from a hypodermic full of local
anesthetic. After a minute or two, a curious thought flitted
through my brain, and I rolled my head to face Velvet once
again.

“How did you get in here anyway?” I asked. “I
seem to recall a cop standing outside the door when the doctor left
earlier. It looked like he was guarding it or something.”

“I told him I was your wife,” she
replied.

“You did what?”

She smiled. “Calm down, I’m only
kidding.”

“Okay…I just didn’t figure you for that sort
of levity.”

“I have my moments,” she replied. Then, she
shrugged and continued, “Actually, it didn’t seem to be a problem.
I just asked if I could check on you, and they let me right in.
Maybe it was because I already gave a statement and…”

She was interrupted by a quick knock then the
door swinging open. A petite, dark-haired woman clad in scrubs came
in then shut the barrier behind her.

“Oh, hello,” she said, noticing Velvet. “I’m
Doctor Miller… You are?”

“Doctor Rieth,” Velvet replied, shaking her
hand.

Doctor Miller canted her head to the side and
furrowed her brow.

Before she could say anything else, Velvet
offered, “I’m a different kind of doctor.” She nodded in my
direction and added, “Actually, I’m only here because I’m a friend
of Rowan’s. I was just keeping him company.”

Doctor Miller gave her a quick smile, “I see.
Well, I need to go over a few things with Mister Gant, so…”

“Say no more,” she told her before she could
finish the spiel. “I need to go get a cup of coffee anyway.”
Glancing in my direction, she added. “I’ll see you in a little
while.”

“Yeah,” I returned. “Do me a favor and have a
cup for me while you’re at it.”

“Will do.”

After Velvet left, the doctor turned her
attention back to me.

“So, how are you feeling, Mister Gant?”

“Pretty much like I was run over by a truck,”
I replied.

“The way I understand it, you almost
were.”

“Yeah, there is that.”

She opened a chart and scanned the papers
inside. “I wanted to ask you something. You mentioned earlier that
the only medication you had been taking lately is aspirin?”

“That’s right.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “A few times a day
I guess.”

“How many is a few?”

“I don’t know… Six… Maybe eight.”

She frowned. “What dosage?”

“Just a handful.”

She looked at me and frowned even harder,
“Seriously?”

“Well, not a big handful. I guess maybe six
or seven. Or ten or twelve. Depends on when I was taking it and how
bad I hurt.”

“At a time?”

“Yeah.”

“Eighty-one or three hundred twenty-five
milligram?”

“Whatever regular old aspirin is. Three
twenty-five I guess.”

“Why?”

“Chronic headache.”

“Have you seen a doctor about it?”

“Trust me, it’s not that kind of
headache.”

“Really. What kind of headache is it
then?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I
sighed.

“So, you haven’t been taking the aspirin on
doctor’s orders?”

“Not unless I’m now a doctor.”

“Honestly, I had you pegged as more
intelligent than this, Mister Gant. You do realize that OTC meds
are still drugs, don’t you? Self-medicating is extremely dangerous.
Especially the way you were doing it.” She huffed out a disgusted
breath before continuing, “Did you even bother to read the
directions on the bottle?”

“Of course. Take two, yadda, yadda…”

“Mister Gant,” her tone remained serious. “Do
I have to spell this out for you? The reason you collapsed is that
you are severely dehydrated and have dangerously low blood
pressure; both of which are symptoms of severe salicylate
poisoning.”

“So, what you’re saying is I overdosed on
aspirin?”

“To put it simply, yes. Given the amount you
said you were taking, I’m surprised you aren’t in much worse
shape.”

I let my head fall back on the pillow. “Doc,
you have no idea.”

“What do you mean?”

I lifted my head back up. “I mean I just let
a killer get away because of a goddamned headache. You can’t
imagine how that feels.”

She thumbed through the papers in the file
then looked back at me with a confused expression. “Are you a
police officer?”

“No,” a new voice answered for me. “But, he
likes to pretend he is.”

Doctor Miller turned and at the same time, I
looked over toward the door. Neither of us had noticed the new
arrival until now.

“Detective Fairbanks,” I said with a
dispirited sigh.

“You done with him, Doctor?” he asked,
flashing his ID.

“Actually, I’d like to admit him for
observation. Will that be a problem?”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not
stay,” I interjected.

“You shut up,” Fairbanks instructed, glancing
at me. “Right now you’re in custody, and what you want doesn’t
matter.” Looking back to Doctor Miller, he continued, “If you need
to keep him, that’s no problem, as long as he doesn’t go anywhere.
But, right now I do need to talk to him if you don’t mind.”

“Be my guest,” she replied. “I’ll go get the
paperwork started.”

The detective waited for her to leave then
looked back at me with a stoic expression. After a moment of
playing stare down, he said, “I thought we had an agreement. So I’m
sure you can imagine my utter dismay at finding out you were still
in town.”

“You didn’t really expect me to leave, did
you?”

“Yes, actually I did.”

“Well, sorry about that, but I wasn’t
finished here yet.”

“What? You just aren’t happy with your visit
until you cause a multi-car pileup on one of the busiest streets in
the city?”

“That was unfortunate,” I replied.

“Unfortunate?” he harrumphed. “I was thinking
more like unconscionable. You’re just lucky no one got hurt.
Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up getting sued by a
couple of people, and I wouldn’t blame them a bit if they do.”

“I was chasing the killer,” I said.

“That’s what your friend out there told us in
her statement,” he agreed with a nod. “But, tell me this—how do you
know you were chasing a killer and not just some frightened woman
who thought you were going to rape her or something? We have at
least two eyewitnesses who claim they saw her running from you
screaming just exactly that.”

“You wouldn’t…”

He held up a hand to stop me. “Yeah, I know,
I wouldn’t believe you if you told me. That seems to be your excuse
for everything.”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s the truth.”

“Yeah, whatever. Sounds like an excuse to
me.”

“If I told you, you would think I’m
insane.”

“Hell, Gant, I already think you’re
insane.”

“Look, you said you’d talked to Ben, and he
filled you in on this case.”

He nodded. “You mean this case that you
aren’t actually working? Yeah, he did.”

“That’s not the point. What I’m trying to
tell you is that the woman I was chasing is Annalise Devereaux.
She’s your killer.”

“No, Mister Gant, she is a person of interest
to the Major Case Squad in Saint Louis,” he corrected.

“Call her whatever you want, I’m telling you
she killed two men in Saint Louis, at the very least one here, and
who knows how many more. She’s been implicated in…”

He cut me off. “You aren’t telling me
anything I don’t already know. We cops actually know how to work
telephones. Some of us even go so far as to use fax machines and
email you know.”

“Then why wasn’t someone watching the
cemetery? If you knew about her then all of this could have been
avoided.”

“Mister Gant, in case you haven’t noticed, we
have our hands full around New Orleans. Hell, I’m just down here as
a volunteer. I was actually expecting to shuffle papers for a few
weeks to help out, but I ended up on the streets working a
homicide, and somehow that managed to get me hung with you. All I
can figure is that I’ve done something to piss off God because my
life normally doesn’t go like this.”

I ignored the sardonic remark and told him,
“I’m not the one you need to worry about.”

“Right,” he nodded emphatically. “We need to
worry about the mystery woman you chased through traffic.”

“Annalise Devereaux.”

“So you say.”

“She hasn’t come forward and pressed charges,
has she?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“She won’t.”

“Statistically, you might be correct. Whoever
she is, she’s probably scared shitless to even come out of her
house after what you did.”

“That’s not the reason. She won’t come
forward because she’s…”

“…
Annalise Devereaux, evil killer
woman. I know. You’ve told me. So what? You still assaulted
her.”

“What I was going to say is that she knows
you’re looking for her.”

“How?”

“I told her.”

“You told her we’re looking for her?” he
asked calmly, although his expression didn’t fit his tone.

“Yes.”

“Mind if I ask why? And, don’t tell me I
wouldn’t believe it if you told me.”

“I don’t know,” I told him.

“Well that’s new and different,” he hmmphed.
“Assuming that you are correct, and this woman actually is Miz
Devereaux, did it cross your mind that telling her we’re looking
for her might make her harder to find?”

“Not at the time, no. Besides, don’t you give
that sort of info to the media so it can be broadcast on the
news?”

“Not always. And, definitely not right away,”
he replied. “This time was one of those definite not yet
situations.”

“Well…I guess I screwed up then.”

“You guess? Holy crap, Gant, you’re just a
goddamned joy to have around, aren’t you?” he said, his sarcasm
expanding to fill the room. “Do you do this sort of shit to
Detective Storm too? Because if you do I’m surprised he hasn’t
killed you yet.”

“Ben and I work together a little better than
you and I seem to.”

“We aren’t working together, Gant. You’re
just getting in the way and being a huge pain in my ass.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Really? How’s that? What did I ever do to
you?”

“I’m trying to help my wife. You already know
that.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m just not entirely
clear on how chasing after
a person of
interest
in a murder investigation you have
nothing to do with
is helping your
wife.”