Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (21 page)

“Could it just be chain of command?”

“Maybe, but I don’t really think
so. It seems more like a
pay no attention
to the man behind the curtain
sort of
thing. You know, like the whole episode with the cops in NOLA
suddenly dropping the charges against me because someone at the FBI
requested it.”

“Okay, yeah. I get it. See why I hate the Feebs? You
can’t trust ‘em.”

“Yeah, so what about Constance?”

“She’s the exception, not the rule. Speakin’ of
Constance, you want me ta’ have ‘er make some calls and check some
shit out?”

“Well, I’ll admit I’d sure like to know who it is
I’m indebted to before he or she suddenly decides to collect,” I
replied. “So, if you think she’d be willing I’d really appreciate
it.”

“Yeah, well you know how she is. All I gotta do is
mention it and she’ll start snoopin’. She may still be on medical
leave but that sorta shit’s never stopped ‘er before. B’sides,
it’ll give her somethin’ to do. She’s climbin’ the walls right now,
and she’s still got two weeks left before they’ll even think about
lettin’ ‘er back on the job.”

“I know, but please tell her not to get herself into
any trouble over this. It’s mine and Felicity’s problem, not
hers.”

“Yeah, like she’s gonna listen ta’ me. Get
real.”

“I know, I know… It’s just that we owe her so much
as it is. I don’t want her screwing up her career any more.”

“You ain’t gonna be able ta’ stop ‘er, Row. She’s
kinda attached ta’ you two in case you ain’t figured that out
yet.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual.”

“Yeah…okay… So let’s change the subject before this
turns all fuckin’ sappy and shit,” he urged. “Listen, you doin’ all
right today?”

I shrugged out of reflex. “As well as can be
expected under the circumstances, I guess. I mean, I’m annoyed,
but…”

He cut me off. “No, Kemosabe, I
mean with the
Twilight Zone
and all.”

“Yeah, pretty much I suppose, why?”

“So, no bleedin’ or anything?”

“No, Ben, just a bit of a headache.”

“Aspirin kinda headache or…”

This time I interrupted him instead. “Yeah, Ben,
it’s a la-la land headache, but it’s not a bad one. Just your
average, everyday ‘Rowan’s talking to dead people again’ headache.
Is that what you’re wanting to know?”

“Well yeah, actually…”

“Okay, so what’s up?”

“You still downtown?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Both of ya’, right?”

“Uh-huh,” I grunted. We had arrived at the Jeep
several minutes ago, and Felicity was already belted in behind the
wheel. Out of habit I was still standing next to the passenger side
with the door hanging open. “In fact, I’m looking at Felicity right
now. She says hi.”

“Yeah, whatever. So where are ya’ exactly?”

“On the FBI’s parking lot, why?”

“Good, then you ain’t far away,” he said.

“Ben, are you going to tell me what you are going on
about, or do I have to guess?”

He huffed out a sigh. “R’member that freak job with
the metal band Wendy was tellin’ us about the other day?”

“Yeah… What was her name… Desiree or something like
that, right? Don’t tell me she was murdered.”

“No, she’s not dead. Turns out ‘er real name is
Margaret Lucas, but that ain’t the point. What is the point,
however, is that she reported ‘er girlfriend missin’ last
night.”

“Missing as in…”

“We don’t know. But, it looks suspicious, and she’s
apparently been missin’ better’n forty-eight hours.”

“Are you certain?”

“No,” he replied, oozing sarcasm. “We’re runnin’
around with our thumbs up our asses and throwin’ darts at a board.
Any more stupid questions?”

“Sorry…” I said. “I’m still in that suspicious
mindset.”

“Yeah, me too,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have
snapped like that. It’s just been a long day already.”

“I can imagine. So how did homicide get
involved?”

“Goddamn computer did somethin’ right for a change.
Listed under identifyin’ marks is a tattoo of a black swan just
over ‘er heart. When they were enterin’ the info, it raised a flag
and got kicked over to Major Case.”

“Dammit,” I muttered.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I said,” he agreed. “Looks
like our bad guy got ‘imself a fresh victim.”

“The question is, how long before this one turns up
in a dumpster somewhere…”

“E’zactly,” he replied. “So listen, had our own
meetin’ with the Feebs about forty-five minutes ago and things are
startin’ ta’ get busy if ya’ know what I mean. On top of that I got
my brass buggin’ me about you. I told ‘em you were on board, so now
they’re kinda wantin’ ya’ to weigh in on this. If ya’ could put in
a little face time down here it’d be a good thing.”

“You know, I still don’t get that. When the hell did
I become their golden boy?” I asked. “It hasn’t been too long since
I was a pariah. And before that I had Albright on my ass at every
turn.”

He hesitated for a moment then replied with what
seemed to be a cautious note in his voice. “Yeah… You got me, Row…
I know what you’re sayin’… But like I said last night, they know
you get results…”

“Is something wrong?” I pressed.

“No, why?”

“You sound a bit strange all of a sudden.”

“Sorry… Just a bit preoccupied with some shit… So
anyway, if it’s any consolation, the word from on high is that they
definitely don’t want ya’ talkin’ ta’ anybody but me about
this…‘specially not the media clowns.”

“Keeping it compartmentalized, eh? More or less a
help us, but don’t embarrass us scenario…”

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

“You sure there’s nothing wrong?” I pressed
again.

“Yeah. It’s all good. Just a lot of shit goin’ down
right now, and I’m swimmin’ in it.”

I didn’t have to see him to know he was probably
sitting at his desk, massaging his neck with his free hand as he
ruminated over that very fact himself. I couldn’t help but wonder
if the invisible puppeteer that seemed to be controlling my destiny
where the FBI was concerned also had a few strings attached to
local law enforcement as well. Of course, the more I thought about
it the more I wondered if I was finally losing my ability to
entertain rational thoughts in favor of conspiracy theories. I
hoped I hadn’t, but I figured if I started seeing black helicopters
from the corner of my eye, it would be time to check myself into a
padded cell under Helen Storm’s care.

“Hold on a sec…” I told Ben.

I covered the mouthpiece on the phone and looked in
through the open door of the Jeep at Felicity. I started to speak,
but before I could form the first word she nodded and said, “Aye,
I’ll take a rain check on the movie, but let him know he’s buying
lunch and fast food doesn’t qualify.”

When we arrived at City Police Headquarters, we were
lucky enough to grab one of the parking spaces directly in front on
Clark Avenue. Felicity nosed her Jeep in at an angle to the curb
then set the parking brake and switched off the engine before
looking over at me. We hadn’t really talked much on the way other
than me giving her a quick rundown of the conversation with Ben; of
course even with traffic, the drive had taken less than five
minutes, so there hadn’t been much time for anything more
in-depth.

“What now?” she asked.

“He said if we don’t see him to just stay where we
are and give him a call on his cell,” I replied.

I glanced around but didn’t see the towering Native
American anywhere. In fact, pedestrian traffic was so light that I
noticed only a single pair of uniformed officers walking across the
street. Judging from their direction, they appeared to be heading
for a cop hangout diner called 40 that was located diagonally
across from where we were now parked. I twisted in my seat to scan
the area but saw no one else.

Turning my eyes back front, I followed Ben’s
instructions, dug out my cell phone and gave him a call. I wasn’t
sure if this was all some clandestine part of keeping me away from
the press or what. I certainly hadn’t noticed any news vans nearby
when I was looking around, but at this point I was just speculating
anyway.

When my friend picked up, he seemed rushed, and
therefore, our conversation was clipped. In fact, it really didn’t
qualify as a conversation as much as a quick interrogation.

“Where are you?” Ben asked immediately, again
bypassing any form of salutation.

“We’re parked right out front,” I replied.

“Stay put, I’ll be right down.”

Then, as quickly as he had answered, he was gone
without even a goodbye.

“Well, what did he say?” Felicity asked as I folded
the phone and tucked it away.

“He said he’s coming down. I don’t know why,” I
replied.

Twisting slightly in my seat, I gazed past her at
the diner on the other side of the street. I wasn’t overly hungry,
but for some odd reason I was feeling inexplicably drawn to food at
the moment.

I had eaten at 40 with Ben on a few occasions. It
had actually started out as a coffee shop and had enjoyed a steady,
if not exactly brisk, business for what seemed like ages. But in
the past few years, it had flourished under new management after
adding actual food to the menu.

After a quick mental inventory of what I remembered
about their selections, I sighed then mused aloud, “Hmmm… I’m
pretty sure Forty just does sandwiches… I don’t think they serve
collard greens, so that won’t work either.”

“Collard greens? Where did that come from?” Felicity
asked, shooting me a confused look. “What happened to liver and
onions?”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t serve that either,” I
muttered absently.

“So now you want both?”

“Yeah, actually… I do.”

My wife shook her head. “If you were a woman, I’d
wonder if you were pregnant.”

“If that was the case wouldn’t I be craving pickles
and ice cream?”

“That’s a…”

“I was kidding,” I said, cutting her off as I half
chuckled. “Just kidding.”

“All right then, I’ll let it go this time,” she
replied, then chewed at her lower lip for a moment before musing,
“Well, obviously this must be because of the stress—just look at
everything you’ve been through. But I wonder if it’s connected to
the bleeding somehow…”

“What, you mean the cravings?” I asked.

She nodded. “Aye. You seem to be obsessing over
foods rich in iron. Liver, collard greens… How would you feel about
broccoli then?”

“Actually, it sounds pretty good at the moment,” I
said, nodding agreement. “I’ll take all three.”

“That must be it then because you do seem a bit
preoccupied with food and that’s not like you.”

“Makes sense to me. Like you said, stress, bleeding,
iron… But yeah, the funny thing is I’m not even all that hungry at
the moment.”

During the conversation, I had been keeping an eye
on the front entrance of police headquarters, waiting for Ben to
show. I gave my watch a quick glance then huffed out a sigh.

“I say we give him another five minutes,” I
grumbled. “Then if he hasn’t shown I call again.”

“Irritability is a sign of an iron deficiency too,”
my wife announced.

“Should I start calling you Doctor O’Brien?” I
asked, humor in my tone.

“Not right now,” she replied, cocking her eyebrow.
“But maybe we could still play doctor later.”

“Hmph… What happened to the damper on your
mood?”

“I guess it went away.”

I shook my head and snorted. “Aren’t we a pair? I’m
obsessing about food, you’re obsessing about sex, and neither of
them is what we need to be worrying about at the moment. ”

She chuckled lightly. “Aye. You’re right. I think
maybe we both need a break.”

“Tell me about it.”

“All right then, what do you think about taking a
vacation?” she asked.

“I think it sounds good in theory…” I returned.

“Well? Why don’t we?” she pressed, peering back at
me with brows raised and the question swimming in her green eyes.
“We haven’t been on a real vacation in years.”

“Yeah, okay, sounds like a hell of an idea,” I
replied with a mocking note. “Where are we going and when do we
leave?”

“I’m serious, Rowan.” She sounded a bit hurt.

I quickly backpedaled. “I’m sorry, honey. That came
out wrong. Actually, I’m serious too, sort of. Unfortunately, we
need to wait until this is over.”

“And until Miranda is gone for good too, I suppose?”
she said with an almost accusatory note in her voice.

“Yeah… That’s pretty much a given.”

“So, what you’re really saying is don’t make any
plans.”

I had obviously misinterpreted how serious she was
about this, and her sudden change in demeanor was a wake-up call.
Reaching over, I carefully began to massage her shoulder through
the leather of her jacket. “No, that isn’t what I’m saying. We just
can’t leave right this minute. You know that as well as I do.”

“Aye, I do. But when?”

“I don’t know,” I replied and gave her a
half-hearted shrug. “Think about it. I tried backing away from all
this, and we saw where that got me. I mean, even you wanted me to
stop fighting it. So, now… Well, I’m kind of stuck until this is
over.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But remember? We promised
ourselves…”

Her point was valid. We were more than due for a
break, and we really had promised ourselves we would get away from
things for a while once Annalise was in custody. Unfortunately,
life got in the way, as usual, and now the dead were once again
taking their turn playing roadblock.

It wasn’t as if we couldn’t afford a vacation
financially. Money was the least of our problems. All we really
needed to do was clear our schedules, get someone to housesit, and
just go. It was the whole schedule-clearing thing that had become
our ubiquitous sticking point.