Felicity had taken the opportunity to freshen up while she was waiting and was standing in front of her closet debating what to wear when I entered the room.
“Here’s your PDA,” I said as I handed over the device.
She took it from me absently and didn’t even bother to utter a thank you. After a moment she glanced at me and asked, “So, who was at the door?”
Her tone made the question sound like a regal demand.
“Constance and Agent Drew.”
The name got her attention, and she turned toward me. “Constance?”
I nodded. “Yeah, she’s back in town. Look, they need to talk to us about the Wentworth crime scene.”
“Why us?”
I gave her a quick rundown of what I’d been told thus far, and as I expected she closely mimicked my own reaction.
“I told them we’d try to help,” I confessed.
“Well, I don’t have the flash cards back yet,” she told me as she made a decision and snagged an outfit from the closet. Tossing it onto the bed, she flipped open her PDA and began tapping the stylus across it as she strode toward the phone.
“We can at least fill them in on what we saw.”
She nodded. “Let me see how long I can delay this lunch meeting. The account is too big to blow off.”
“I understand,” I replied. “Maybe we can set something up with Constance for later.”
“That would probably be good.”
“Okay, we’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Go tell them I’ll be there in a minute,” she ordered.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked.
“Fine. Why?”
“The attitude.”
“What attitude?”
“Look,” I started. “I know you’re angry about last night, but this barking orders at me is starting to get a bit old. I’m not your servant.”
She looked up at me and pressed her thumb against the off-hook button on the phone midway through dialing.
“I’m doing it, aren’t I?” she asked.
“Pissing me off? Yes.”
She let out a heavy breath, and I could see that she was forcing herself to ground. “No. Channeling,” she offered. “The whole domination thing. I’ve actually been getting off on being a bitch to you.”
“Damn,” I mumbled. “I guess I’m too out of it myself. That hadn’t even dawned on me. You know, between my headache and your libido, we’re a hell of a mismatch at the moment.”
“I’m sorry, Row,” she told me.
“I’ll get over it,” I replied. “But, you might want to consider hematite jewelry to accessorize. It might help you stay grounded.”
“Good idea.”
“Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen,” I said as I turned to go.
“Row?”
“Yeah?”
“I am still mad about last night though.”
“I figured,” I replied with a nod. “If you’re still mad later, you can beat me then.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” she offered. “But, you should know that I just might enjoy it way too much.”
“Well, that makes one of us.”
“Maybe I’m slow,” I said as I poured water into the coffee maker. “But it just now dawned on me why you’re here.”
“What do you mean?” Constance asked.
“Our friendship,” I replied. “You can’t tell me your boss isn’t hoping to get somewhere by playing that card.”
“It was mentioned,” she admitted with a shrug. “But the idea to send me didn’t come from my SAC.”
“Really? Who then?”
“Me.”
“You?” I asked, somewhat taken aback.
“Yes, me,” she affirmed. “Actually, you should probably thank me.”
“Why is that?”
“I had to do some fast talking to get him to go for it. After I got the call yesterday wanting to know the best way to approach Felicity…”
“And what did you say?” my wife interrupted, appearing in the doorway, her attention divided between the conversation and the task of applying her makeup with the help of the mirror in our dining room.
She was actually going to be leaving soon, but Constance had decided to pick up as much from me as she could, then check back with her later.
“Full riot gear and a prayer,” Mandalay replied.
“You didn’t…” I said.
“No, but I thought it,” she offered with a tired smile.
“Smart woman,” Felicity called through the doorway.
“Anyway,” Mandalay continued. “What I did say was that it would be best to let me do it… And then I spent thirty minutes convincing him I was right.”
“Why?” I asked. “Did you have to convince him, I mean.”
“Because of the fact that we’re friends,” she explained.
“So he thought you were too close to us to be objective,” I concluded.
“Which is why Agent Drew came along for the ride,” she added with a nod.
“What if you hadn’t been able to convince him?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Truthfully? The approach could have been a bit more hostile.”
“Why?”
“Because the assumption was that due to your history your loyalties would lie with the MCS.”
“With Ben, yes,” I asserted. “Maybe a few others as well, but with Albright calling the shots? No way in hell.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “He’s new in town, Rowan. He doesn’t know the whole history, just what’s on paper. And, to be honest, we didn’t know if you knew about Albright yet-which apparently you didn’t… Let’s just say it’s a good thing I convinced him to let me handle this.”
“Are you two finished?” Agent Drew asked, something akin to impatience trilling in his voice.
“Chill out,” Mandalay told him.
“We’re here to get information,” he replied. “Not for a friendly chat.”
Mandalay turned to him, and even though from my present angle I couldn’t see her face, the look in his eyes told me I was glad the glare was directed at him and not me. After a moment of thick silence, she said, “You smoke, right?”
“What’s that got to do with…” he started to ask.
“Why don’t you go ahead outside, Agent Drew. Have a cigarette and wait for me. I’ll finish up here.”
“Simpson said we were both…”
“I said,” she interrupted him again, the coldness of her tone unmistakable as she slowly over-enunciated the sentence. “Wait… out… side.”
The ringer on the phone suddenly pealed through the room, dissipating the uncomfortable aura surrounding the standoff between the two of them.
“If that’s Judy from Winzer-Lockhart, tell her I’m on my way,” Felicity called out.
I stepped across the room and snatched up the handset without even taking time to check the caller ID.
“Hello?” I said as I tucked it up to my ear.
I was greeted only with silence.
“Hello?” I repeated.
The quiet continued to be my only greeting, but as I listened I was certain I could hear the sound of someone breathing at the other end. I looked over at the caller ID box and saw that it was displaying nothing but a series of dashes. The number had been blocked.
I dropped the phone back onto the hook and let out a sigh. This wasn’t new. In fact, I had even been expecting it to start up again. I just hoped that my expectations and resignation to the fact hadn’t been what manifested its untimely return.
“Wrong number?” Constance asked.
“Not exactly,” I returned.
“The breather?” she prodded.
She knew about the calls, as did Ben. They’d both tried to help me trace them, but all they were ever able to establish was that they had come from random payphones, widely scattered through the metropolitan area.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
The phone rang again, and out of reflex I reached out to pick it up then caught myself and hesitated long enough to glance at the caller ID. This time the dashes were replaced by a number I easily recognized, so I lifted the receiver and placed it to my ear once again.
“Hello.”
“What’re ya’ doin’?” Ben’s gruff voice issued from the speaker almost as a demand, sans any sort of pleasantries.
“Talking to Constance,” I replied.
Mandalay looked at me and mouthed, “Is that Storm.”
I simply nodded in reply.
“You didn’t call her ‘bout my old man, did’ja?” my friend asked, both suspicion and anger welling in his voice.
“No. Actually she just showed up at the door, and she’s sitting in my kitchen right now.”
“She’s what? She’s here? She’s in Saint Louis?”
“Long story, but yeah, she and Agent Drew are here,” I replied.
“You got two Feebs at your house?” he half asked, a note of understanding seeping into his voice as he picked up the hint.
“Yes.”
“They pumpin’ you for info on the Wentworth case?”
“Something like that.”
“Jeezus… They would pull a stunt like that… Shit… Can’t blame ‘em I don’t guess. What with fuckin’ Albright closin’ the door in their face,” he muttered. “I told ya’, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“Fuck me,” he grumbled.
There was a lull at the other end, and since he had opened the door, I nudged the conversation through it. “So, how is your father anyway?”
“Dead.”
“I’m sorry, Ben.”
“Don’t be,” he huffed. “Best fuckin’ thing for both of us.”
“How’s Helen?”
“Handlin’ it. I promised I’d help ‘er with the arrangements later, but listen, that’s not why I called. You and Firehair free for a bit?”
“Actually, Felicity has a lunch meeting with a client.”
“Can she get out of it?”
“I don’t know but probably not. She’s already had to reschedule.”
My wife poked her head around the corner and shook her head vigorously, indicating the negative. Apparently, my reply had been enough to let her guess what he had asked.
“I just got a confirmation on that no,” I told him.
“Okay, so what about you?”
“Well, I haven’t even had a shower yet.”
“You can do that later. I need ya’ ta’ look at somethin’ right now.”
“What about Constance and Agent Drew?”
“Bring ‘em with ya’.”
“Bring them with me where?”
“The Gateway Motel out on Lindbergh.”
“What’s going on, Ben?”
“That’s what I want you ta’ tell me.”
Ben was adamant that we needed to leave immediately if not sooner, but after hanging up I had still taken enough time for an encounter with my toothbrush and a comb. Then I changed into something a bit more suitable for going out in public. I had done my best to make myself as presentable as I possibly could, but I’d still felt like I desperately needed to run myself through the shower.
The image that had peered back at me from the mirror had a thick crop of stubble shadowing his face, and evidence of the dull ache in his head was obvious through the creases in his otherwise flat expression. His goatee could have used a trim and even seemed to be revealing to the world a fresh spate of grey.
This definitely hadn’t been the man whom I’d seen reflected here only a few days before, but there he was, and he was looking pretty ragged. As much as I wanted to do so, however, there was no denying that we were one and the same. And, to be honest, I really shouldn’t have been surprised because the reflection simply looked exactly like I felt. Unfortunately for me, it seemed the physical tolls being exacted by my connection with the other side were hastening. Or, perhaps it was the two year reprieve from such things that was now making it all appear just that much more drastic.
Either way, I couldn’t say that I really cared for the results.
Felicity had headed out for her lunch meeting at the same time I was leaving with Constance and Agent Drew. She wasn’t expecting to be free for at least two hours, maybe longer, but she took down the address of the motel just in case. In case of what, however, we had no idea.
Whatever his reasons, Ben hadn’t been forthcoming about why he wanted us there. All he would say was that we should check in with the first uniform we saw carrying a clipboard and ask for him. That, in and of itself, was enough to tell me that we were talking about a crime scene, but that much I had already suspected. Telling me to bring Mandalay and Drew said in its own way that this was probably something connected with Wentworth’s murder, or at least that was the conclusion I reached. Therefore, having read between the lines, I wasn’t a bit surprised by the bustle of activity greeting us when we arrived at the Gateway Motel.
I was riding with the two FBI agents for no other reason than convenience, and no sooner had we pulled onto the lot than they were flashing their ID’s. We were directed to a parking space and told that someone would go inform Ben of our arrival. Thus far, I hadn’t needed to utter a word. I can’t say that I minded that a bit, however, because very suddenly I wasn’t feeling well at all.
By the time we climbed out of the car, my headache was already ramping up uncontrollably, and I felt a violent churn in my stomach. My back was beginning to ache, alternating between severe cramps deep within my muscles and sudden stinging sensations across my skin. For the first time in a very long while, I found myself struggling to ground and center simply to keep from slipping under in an ethereal whirlpool.
I knew that I had never completely lost connection with the other side, but for two years now, it had been just so much background noise. Living with it had been akin to the tinny speaker of a cheap television with the volume turned down almost as far as it would go. It had become nothing more than an almost ignorable noise with only an occasionally recognizable string of verbiage.
In an instant, however, the volume was turned to full. My shunt through the veil was open wide, and the quiet static was now a deafening roar filling my ears to drown out the physical world around me.
The ethereal drought was over. What had only been whispers of the dead for so very long were now the anguished screams of tortured souls welcoming me back to my own personal hell.
I just wish they’d given me a gentler homecoming than the sight of the pavement rushing up toward my face.