I had always considered the comment “worrying yourself sick” to be nothing more than an exaggerated metaphor. But tonight, in a closely linked pair of painful moments, I changed my mind about that turn of phrase.
The first came, of course, when the final point ticked off by the police officer struck me like a solid punch directly to the abdomen. Apparently, the Gods had decided that it wasn’t enough that I had already been agonizing over Felicity and what was now happening to her to the point where I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. As was their penchant for doing, they wanted to see just how far they could push me.
My stomach had been churning ever since I discovered that my wife had ducked out of the police station, so I was on the edge as it was. I knew that she stood a real possibility of inadvertently coming face to face with the killer due to what I suspected was their shared possession, and I couldn’t imagine that such a clash would be without some level of violence.
On top of that, and just as bad, was the fact that she seemed likely to act out one of the killer’s fantasies and actually murder someone. After what she had apparently done with the officer while filing the complaint against me, this scenario seemed almost to be a given.
That is, of course, unless we were able to stop her first.
But, as I said, that simply wasn’t enough strife for whichever deity happened to be pushing me around the cosmic chessboard on this particular day. Now, a whole new bolus of foreboding had been mainlined directly into my bloodstream, and that fear was of an overzealous cop shooting my wife because she was now considered an armed fugitive.
The column of bile that this sent rising up my throat came startlingly close to being heaved out onto the floor right where I stood. Fortunately, I managed to contain it; how, I can only assume by pure luck. All I knew was that in the end, it had taken me a good five minutes just to bring myself under enough control to even think about functioning.
Of course, this was right about the time the second moment of the fateful pair elected to reveal itself. I was just regaining my composure when I glanced toward the dining room only to see Constance being helped onto an ambulance gurney. Ben was staunchly remaining by her side, as well he should. The problem was that they were the two people whom I knew I could count on to believe me in all of this, and they were now wrapped up in their own concerns.
A panic attack tried to set up residence in my chest as I realized exactly how alone in all of this I truly felt. And then, I knew that I truly was worried sick.
The paramedics had finished strapping Mandalay onto the gurney while I was sitting on the arm of a chair in the living room. They had the head of the folding rig propped upward in a partial sitting position in order to keep her torso elevated, so I could see that she was still conscious and alert.
She had made it clear that she wasn’t happy about the trip to the hospital but had agreed to at least go and get x-rayed. Not that it mattered, however, because I had the feeling that whether she agreed or not, Ben was going to see to it that she went. Judging from the bleeding she had done, I suspected some stitches would be in order as well.
They were ready to wheel her out, but she had insisted on talking to me first. Considering how isolated I had been feeling only a few moments before, her demand gave me a renewed hope.
“Okay, Rowan…” Constance said with a thin smile. “Explain to me why I shouldn’t kick Felicity’s ass the next time I see her.”
I sighed and shook my head. It was obvious that she was making a small attempt at humor in the face of everything that had happened. I shouldn’t have been surprised because I’d met only a very few members of the law enforcement community who didn’t do that sort of thing. There was no reason for her to be any different.
But, I was also betting that, even with the dry humor, there was more than just a hint of seriousness in the words.
I couldn’t say that I blamed her.
According to her recounting, the physical entity that was my wife had invited her in as if nothing was wrong but then immediately blindsided her as she came through the door. She had struck her hard enough with a ceramic statuette to be able to overpower her and then restrain her with her own handcuffs. Considering that Constance was a trained FBI agent, I could only speculate that it had been a lucky shot.
But, in that vein, I was also betting that it had been somewhat humiliating for Constance to identify herself as an FBI agent after being found that way by the responding officers.
Were I in her position, I would be more than a little miffed myself.
On the other hand, whoever was possessing Felicity could just as easily have killed her, and she didn’t. That, in and of itself, said something about the motivation of the entity in control of my wife’s body. At least, to me it did.
“Listen, I know it sounds unbelievable, Constance,” I finally replied. “But, all I can say is that it wasn’t really Felicity who attacked you.”
She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes for a moment, letting out her own sigh before quietly assuring me, “I know, Rowan. I got that distinct feeling when she was standing over me. The look in her eyes was… it was just odd.”
“I know,” I replied.
“Ben said you thought it had something to do with the crime scene this afternoon.”
I looked over at my friend and he shook his head. “I told ya’ I couldn’t really explain it.”
“It definitely has something to do with the ritual that was performed there,” I told her. “I just still need to do some research.”
“It was like she was a completely different person,” she repeated. “I couldn’t believe it.”
“That was only her body. I think the person you know as Felicity is most likely drifting out there somewhere in the ether waiting to return.”
“The gwo-bon-anj,” one of the paramedics mumbled.
I hadn’t paid much attention to either of them earlier, but now I focused directly on the man who had spoken. He was African-American, roughly in his late twenties to early thirties, and his voice was edged with what might have been a faint Creole accent. I raised an eyebrow and said, “What was that?”
“Gwo-bon-anj,” he repeated, somewhat louder and much more clearly this time. “The great good angel. It’s the part of your spirit which holds your personality and experiences.”
“Where does that come from?”
“It’s a religious concept,” he offered, acting as if he wished he’d never opened his mouth.”
“It wouldn’t happen to be Vodoun would it?”
He looked back at me with a hint of surprise in his face. “Yeah. Actually it is.”
“Do you know much about Voodoo practices?”
He shrugged. “I grew up around it, so yeah, I know some.”
“What can you tell me about spirit possessions?” I pressed, urgency seeping into my voice.
“Believers say the Lwa will possess their followers,” he replied.
“Have you ever seen it happen?”
“Whoa, hold on a second,” he objected. “I said I grew up around it. That doesn’t mean I actually believe in it.”
“But have you ever seen it happen?”
“No.”
“Okay then, have you ever seen anyone claiming to be possessed by a Lwa?”
“Look, I really shouldn’t have…”
“Just answer me. It’s important!”
“Yeah. A couple of times,” he said with a dismissive shake of his head. “Look, like I was saying, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Okay, fine, but just answer me this then. Veve. A heart with a crosshatched pattern and a dagger piercing it. Do you know who that is a symbol for?”
“With a dagger would be Ezili Danto. She’s the Petro aspect of the Lwa of love.”
“Petro aspect?”
“Negative. You know, like the opposite.”
“You know quite a bit for someone who doesn’t believe in it,” Constance remarked.
He shrugged again but remained silent.
“Come on, Emile,” the other paramedic interjected. “We need to roll.”
“You. Shut up,” Mandalay barked at the paramedic over her head then looked back to the foot of the gurney and said, “You. Answer the man’s questions.”
“Button it, Constance,” Ben told her then glanced over at me and declared, “She needs to go to the hospital, Rowan.”
“No, I don’t,” she objected.
“Stay out of it. You’re goin’,” he retorted without taking his eyes off me. After a second he huffed, “Make it quick.”
I turned back to the paramedic and quickly asked, “What purpose would Ezili Danto have in a ritual?”
“I don’t really know, sir,” he replied, kicking off the brake and starting to maneuver the gurney out of the room. “Like I told you, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”
“No. This is important!”
“Look, all I know is that she represents heartbreak, jealousy, and vengeance. That’s about it.”
“Hold on. Please. Just one last question,” I pleaded, insinuating myself between them and the exit. “A round circle with three curved lines radiating out from the center and a single dot in each third. Whose veve is that?”
He scrunched up his face and then shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Are you certain? Think.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve never seen that one. I can tell you it’s definitely not one of the greater Lwa, but maybe it belongs to a lesser or an ancestral spirit.”
“Okay, Rowan, that’s enough. Get outta the way,” Ben ordered.
I stepped back and they continued rolling the gurney toward the front door.
I had hoped for more information from the young man, but what he had given me was definitely beyond what I’d had before. I didn’t know that it was going to help find Felicity though.
Ben was still following along with them, wearing an expression of intense concern. He hadn’t said much of anything for the past several minutes, except the terse orders he’d barked at Constance and me. I wasn’t sure if it was simply his disquiet over her condition, or if he was angry.
Given the circumstances, I suppose he had plenty to be irritated about, not the least of which was me.
“I’ll be right back,” he grunted as he brushed past.
A second later, as they approached the front door, Constance called out, “Rowan?”
I stepped quickly over to her even as they continued to muscle the gurney out into the night air.
“Yeah, Constance?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch my arm.
“Whoa, hold on a second,” I said to the paramedics, motioning for them to stop. Then I looked back to her. “Sorry about what?”
“I had to tell them about my weapon,” she replied. “They had to know for…”
I cut her off, shaking my head vigorously as I spoke. “I understand. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it right now. You didn’t have any choice. Now, let them take you to the hospital.”
I stepped back again, and they continued out the door. I certainly hadn’t expected the apology from Constance, and to be honest I almost wished she hadn’t made it. The mere mention of the sidearm brought my fear oozing back to the surface, and I felt my stomach somersault yet again.
As the storm door swung shut, I looked around and realized that in a very real sense this time, I was suddenly very alone. The Briarwood officers were out in the front yard talking to one another and occasionally looking toward the house. I knew that the female officer who had been questioning me had still been inside when Mandalay and I started discussing the reason behind Felicity’s actions. How much she had heard, I couldn’t say, but I was guessing that it was a big part of the conversation going on right now.
At this point, however, I didn’t care what they thought of me. I needed to figure out where my wife was likely to go and find her before this got any worse than it already was.
The problem at the moment was that I had no idea how I was going to do that.