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

Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (4 page)

BOOK: Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation
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“I’m tellin’ ya’ don’t go there…” he
returned, cutting her off as he reached out and gave her shoulder a
squeeze. “She may be a Feeb, but she’s still a badge. She was doin’
‘er job. B’sides, she’s gonna be fine.” He let out a nervous
chuckle that sounded as if he was trying to reassure himself as
much as her, then added, “Ya’ don’t really think she’s gonna let me
off the hook that easy, do ya’?”

I caught a glimpse of a forced smile pulling
at the corner of her mouth as she tried to respond to his attempt
at cheering her up and then watched as her lips quickly turned back
into a frown. She shot a glance toward me, and I could see in her
expression that she was wrestling with a different guilt entirely.
I had a feeling I knew the source of the anguish all too well
because I was feeling it too. And I suspected the two of us weren’t
the only ones fending off the pain it brought. Ben probably was as
well but when it came right down to it, none of us wanted to be the
first to confess the sin.

She looked back at him and said, “Thank you,”
before turning fully to face me and adding, “Don’t be long?”

Her voice was soft, yet held the benign note
of insistence that was so often exchanged between husbands and
wives, telling me she wanted to be on the way soon. When I looked
into her eyes, however, a “demand” wasn’t what I saw.

If anything, she wore an expression that was
no less than a pleading question mark.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3:

 

Ben and I both watched after Felicity as she
walked down the path and started along the edge of the access road
rather than chance crossing the soft ground in heels. The hard
sound of her shoe soles against the asphalt dulled with each step
she took, but I continued to gaze in her direction until she
disappeared behind the end of a small hedgerow.

Certain she was out of earshot, my friend
turned to me and asked, “Whaddaya think? She really gonna be
okay?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. Like she said, it’s
just going to take some time,” I replied, nodding my head. “She
hasn’t really had the opportunity to decompress yet, obviously.
Neither of us has. There are just things we both still have to come
to terms with.”

I left it at that. I wasn’t about to get into
a deep explanation. Not here, and not now. There was something
sacrosanct about the moment and location that made me feel like
doing so would be blasphemous, even in a secular sense. Besides, in
my mind at least I had something more important that needed to be
addressed. Unfortunately, right now my friend was intent on being
just that, a friend, so he continued to probe out of concern.

“So what about you, Row? You holdin’ on?”

“I have to—for now anyway. We can’t have both
of us turning into basket cases simultaneously.”

“Why not? If ya ask me ya’ both deserve it
after what you’ve been through.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shrugged.
“But, my time will come later. Right now she needs it more.”

“Yeah, I know what ya’ mean… So have ya’ been
talkin’ ta’ Helen at least?” he asked, referring to his sister, who
was not only a friend but a therapist who had helped all of us cope
with some of the horrors we had faced over the years.

“Not yet, but we will.”

“Good. Make it soon, ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Soon.”

He huffed out a sigh and looked back toward
the dispersing traffic once again. “So, listen, I hate ta’ run, but
you need ta’ get back ta’ Firehair, and I really should go ahead
and get movin’. I’ll catch up with you two and let ya’ know how
Constance is doin’, okay?”

He reached to shake hands, so I extended my
own out of reflex. A moment later he was turning to leave, and I
realized I was completely sidetracked. I had allowed his concern
for Felicity and me to dominate the remainder of our conversation,
and now my unexpected opportunity was about to escape.

“Hey, Ben,” I blurted, just as he was about
to take a step. “Before you go can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” he said, stopping and
turning back to face me.

The question I had for him was one I wasn’t
so sure he was going to want to answer—for several reasons, not the
least of which could be where it might lead. I started to ask it
anyway, but then hesitated as my mind flashed on the still fresh
memories of the recent investigation—in particular, a victim
Annalise Devereaux had literally trampled to death, using his
prurient fetish as a vehicle for his demise and in the process, her
own twisted gratification. My query was directly related to
something she had done with that victim’s blood, and it was
weighing on me heavily. In fact, it had been ever since I’d seen
it.

Obviously, my pause was longer than I
imagined because Ben furrowed his brow and looked at me with worry
in his eyes as he gave me a verbal nudge. “What’s wrong, Row?”

“Sorry…” I told him, then let out a heavy
sigh and asked, “Remember when we were at the scene of the Lewis
homicide?”

“Yeah, I may be on the downhill slide ta’
fifty but I ain’t senile yet. That was just a few days ago, white
man.”

“So then I’m sure you remember the piece of
spellwork Annalise did in the kitchen with the blood and the
cloves, right?”

“Well yeah… It was the reason I took ya’
there ta’ begin with.”

“Exactly. Do you know if anyone ever found
the bottle or jar that she used?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not that I’ve
heard. But I’m on suspension, so I don’t exactly get daily reports.
Why?”

“Dammit,” I muttered. I had been afraid that
was going to be the case, and I knew it meant I would have to ask a
different question he wouldn’t be nearly as quick to answer. I
sucked in a breath and blurted it out anyway. “Okay, then is there
any chance you can tell me where Annalise is right now?”

“Yeah, in an eight-by-twelve cussin’ the fact
that bright orange ain’t ‘er color. Don’t worry, she’s not gettin’
out.”

“I’m not worried. About that anyway. But I do
need to know where she is specifically. Saint Louis? Somewhere
else?”

“Ain’t important, white man,” he returned
with a hard, dismissive tone underscoring the words. Even with
that, at least his overall reaction was calmer than I had expected
it might be.

“Do you even know where she’s being held,
Ben?”

“Yeah. She’s in an eight-by-twelve, just like
I said.”

“Dammit, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, well actually I do know where she is.
But I’m tellin’ ya’ to leave it alone, Row.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, seriously, Ben. I can’t.”

“Okay, I’ll play. Ya’ wanna give me a good
reason why?”

“Maybe I’m wrong, but I’ve got a bad feeling
this isn’t over yet.”

“What isn’t over?”

“Miranda.”

“What? How the hell can it
not
be
over?” he almost barked the question. “The bitch is in custody.
There’s enough hard evidence ta’ get ‘er the needle. It’s a
slam-dunk. Once the Feebs are done with her, she’s gonna be puttin’
in her order for a last meal. It’s done. Finished.”

“You’re talking about Annalise,” I told him,
nodding my head in agreement. “But I’m talking about Miranda. The
Lwa
that was using her as a horse.”

He shook his head. “Horse. Jeez, that gets me
every time I hear it.”

“It’s just Vodoun terminology for the body a
spirit possesses, Ben.”

“Yeah, I know, you told me. Still sounds
weird though.” He threw up his hands and shook his head. “Either
way, white man, it doesn’t matter. Like you said, Miranda’s a
ghost.”

“Actually she’s a
Vodoun
ancestral
spirit.”

“Say it however ya’ want. Horse, Spirit,
Low-ahh, Miranda, I don’t care—you’re still talkin’ about a
friggin’ ghost.”

“If that’s what you insist on calling her,
fine. But the fact remains, she’s still out there.”

“Row, she ain’t real.”

“Yes, she is. You’ve seen way too…”

“Gimme a break, you know what I meant,” he
interrupted. “How many times do I hafta tell you I can’t help ya’
there? I can’t arrest somethin’ I can’t even see.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Then would ya’ like to explain exactly what
it is you’re wantin’?”

“Access to Annalise.”

He snorted out a sarcastic chuckle. “Yeah,
like that’s gonna happen. Get real. Why don’t we go back ta’ me
arrestin’ the ghost, it’d prob’ly be easier.”

“It’s my only recourse at this point,” I
replied.

“What’s seein’ her got ta’ do with
Miranda?”

“Maybe everything.”

“Well, ya’ might as well forget it. Even if I
wasn’t suspended, there ain’t enough strings on the planet I could
pull ta’ get you access ta’ her. Not that I would if I could.”

“Well I need to find some way to make it
happen, so if you won’t help me I’ll have to find someone who
will.”

“Yeah, well good luck. C’mon, Row. Seriously.
Whaddaya need ta’ see ‘er for?”

“To find out what she did with that
spell.”

“Okay, so we’re back around to the missin’
bottle-jar thing.”

“It’s more than just a bottle, Ben,” I
replied. “You know that.”

“Uh-huh. All I know is what you said, and the
way I remember it, you didn’t know exactly what it was
yourself.”

“At the time I didn’t, but now I’ve got a
theory.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“So are you suddenly doubting me?” I
asked.

“I didn’t say that…” He shook his head and
huffed out a resigned breath. “Okay, fine, so you wanna share this
theory or is it top secret?”

“I think the spellwork she did might have
something to do with bonding Felicity to the
Lwa
.”

“So you think the jar thing is why Firehair
flipped out again and went all psycho bitch even though you did a
bunch of hocus-pocus to keep it from happenin’.”

“That’s pretty much it.”

“Why?”

“I just do.”

“Are ya’ sure?”

“Like I said, it’s a theory.”

He shook his head. “Don’t tell me… Ya’ got a
feelin’…”

“Yes.”

“Friggin’ wunnerful,” he huffed. “So five
minutes ago ya’ stood here and told me I was wrong about Deck and
Constance, but now you got a feelin’, and I’m s’posed ta’ just
accept it without question?”

“Yeah, Ben, I know how that sounds… But,
that’s usually how this works. You said it yourself. I’m the Witch,
not you.”

“Uh-huh, well you oughta be glad you don’t
really ride a broom ‘cause I’d shove it up your ass right about now
if ya’ did…” He paused, and looked at me for a moment then finally
said, “Jeezus… Okay… So just how bad is this feelin’ anyway?”

“Bad enough.”

“Lovely,” he muttered. “Does Felicity
know?”

“I haven’t mentioned it just yet. I don’t
really want to worry her with this right now.”

“Crap, Row… Isn’t she the whole reason
you’re…”

I cut him off. “Don’t worry, I plan to tell
her. I just didn’t want to drop it on her just yet. She’s still
coming to terms with the fact that Miranda possessed her to begin
with. Not to mention finding out that Annalise is actually her half
sister. It’s like a damned soap opera, and she’s got a lot to
digest. Not to mention that everything else that’s happened the
past few days isn’t making it any easier.”

“Yeah… I know… I’m just sayin’ don’t wait too
long on that, or she’ll be the one gettin’ hold of ya’ with the
broom when she finds out… Hell, I know how she is, and I ain’t even
the one married to ‘er…”

“I know, Ben. Believe me, I know. And I’ll
tell her.”

He fell silent for a moment then shook his
head. “So… ‘Bad enough’. Just exactly how bad is that? And gimme
somethin’ specific. Like, is Miranda gonna climb inside Firehair’s
head again or what?”

“Well, we know for a fact she’d like to. And
if I’m right, that’s what the spell meant to facilitate. But I
don’t plan on letting it happen.”

“Seems ta’ me you weren’t too successful at
stoppin’ it this last go ‘round.”

“I know, but let’s just say this time I’m
holding an ace,” I replied.

“What kinda ace?”

“A necklace.”

“A necklace?”

“Long story. Just trust me.”

“Yeah. Trust you,” he harrumphed. “Famous
last words. Okay, so if you got this necklace, then why do ya’
hafta find this bottle so bad?”

“Because I don’t like loose ends. Especially
this kind. Besides, if I’m right, the necklace and whatever is in
that bottle are connected, so it’s really the key to ending all of
this.”

He stared at me for a second then looked at
his watch. “Look, I really gotta get movin’. So is this just a
Witch thing, or do I need to be worried at my end?”

“It’s definitely a Witch thing,” I said.
“Like I said, it’s not a good idea to leave magick like that to its
own devices. It can have a tendency to take on a life of its
own.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, but cut ta’ the chase. Are
ya’ tellin’ me this is just you bein’ anal, and it ain’t an
emergency, or is it somethin’ else?”

“Could be all of the above or maybe none of
the above. I don’t know for sure.”

“Jeezus, Row. Do you ever give straight
answers?” He huffed out the question in a disgusted tone and didn’t
wait for my reply. “Just tell me straight—are there gonna be more
bodies turnin’ up because of this?”

“I’d like to say no, but I can’t for
sure.”

“Dammit, Row…”

“Honestly, I don’t know, Ben,” I appealed. “I
certainly hope not. But, we know Miranda wants to use Felicity as a
horse just like she did with Annalise, and she’s proven she’ll do
anything to get to her… If I don’t sever the connection and finish
this for good… Well… It’s hard to know what she’ll do. I will say
this though—it’s a good bet that if you do end up with more bodies,
mine will probably be the first.”

BOOK: Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation
12.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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