My wife levered the van door shut then turned to me with a concerned look on her face. “Rowan… You’ve seemed a bit out of it for the past few minutes. Are you feeling okay then?”
I sighed as I reached up to rub my temples. My short reprieve was over, and lying to her wasn’t going to do any good, so I gave in. “The headache is back… But, it isn’t Emily… I’m not sure who it is… It feels familiar…too familiar…but foreign as well… Does that make sense?”
“You don’t think it’s…” She allowed her voice to trail off.
I could tell by her words that she was thinking the same thing I had been. I shook my head and muttered, “I’m trying not to.”
Ben was already talking to the state trooper by the time we hooked around the back end of the van and joined him. They both looked over at us, and my friend gave a nod in my direction.
“I was beginnin’ ta’ think we were gonna hafta send a search party lookin’ for ya’,” he quipped.
“Just getting situated,” I replied.
“Here,” he said as he held a clipboard out to me. Then he directed his words to the trooper. “They’ll need ta’ sign in too. They’re special consultants for Major Case.”
“No problem,” the man replied with a nod.
I stepped forward and took the proffered crime scene log, signed my name, and then under the heading for title entered exactly what Ben had just called us, “special consultant.” When I was finished entering the “time in” I handed it to Felicity so she could do the same. When she gave the clipboard back to the officer, he glanced at the signatures then looked us both up and down.
“The crime scene guys are already here,” he stated. “What kind of consultants are you two?”
Without missing a beat I replied, “Reluctant.”
Once again he gave the clipboard a one-eyed stare for a second then mumbled something not quite intelligible.
“Wait a minute,” he finally said. “Gant… Yeah, I knew I’d heard that name before. You’re the psychic.”
I wasn’t surprised at what he said. Between media coverage and word of mouth, I didn’t meet too many cops in the state who hadn’t at least heard of me-in one sense or another. Unfortunately, the rumors weren’t always true or particularly flattering either.
“Yeah, something like that,” I half agreed rather than launch into an involved explanation.
In truth, his assessment was probably closer to the mark than I really wanted to admit. Witch or not, my facility was at least as much psychic as it was magick, probably even more so. The big difference was that I didn’t make a career of bilking grieving families out of money to tell them vague and ambiguous stories about their departed loved ones with whom I was supposedly conversing. Instead, I worked for free to offer the police vague and ambiguous clues in order to stop the voices inside my head. Unfortunately, my payoff never lasted long.
“I thought so,” he replied then snorted out a small laugh. “Yeah, my sister is all about the psychic stuff. She watches the shows on TV and everything.”
“As long as she’s entertained,” I said with a slight nod and no enthusiasm whatsoever in my voice. “But, do her a big favor and tell her not to spend money on telephone and TV psychics.”
“Yeah, I’ve told her that. The way I see it they’re just a bunch of crooks, right?”
I shrugged. “Probably not all, but most of them, yeah, that would be my guess. All I can say for sure is that no amount of money is worth having dead people bounce around inside your head on purpose, so that should tell you something right there.”
“What about you?” he asked, giving me a stoic nod. “What makes you different from them?”
“I only do this because I haven’t got a choice,” I replied.
My headache had been ramping up ever since we’d arrived, but for the most part I was once again becoming acquainted with the pain and, more importantly, treating it as nothing more than the usual chronic nuisance. Or so I thought.
I had scarcely finished speaking when a violent stab of agony drilled its way through my brain with enough force to make me grimace and stumble forward before catching myself. I reached up with both hands and cradled my head between them as if it was going to explode.
“Something wrong?” the officer asked.
“Shining…example…of what…I…just said,” I groaned the sentence in a halting rhythm.
Nausea was beginning to churn in the pit of my stomach, and my ears were ringing as the parking lot seemed to undulate beneath my feet. I stumbled in place once again, nearly pitching face first onto the asphalt.
Felicity instantly took hold of my shoulder in an attempt to steady me. Ben was only a half step behind her as he came forward and grabbed me beneath the arms then propped me back against the van and held me up.
“You gonna be okay, Kemosabe?” my friend asked.
“Do I look like it?” I answered between clenched teeth.
Felicity spoke up, directing herself to the state trooper with an air of calm authority. “Officer, the next town isn’t far from here, aye?”
“Yes ma’am, Wright City. Do we need to get him to the hospital?”
“No,” she replied, urgency seeping into her voice. “But we need salt, and a lot of it.”
CHAPTER 26:
“Been almost fifteen minutes,” Ben stated in a matter of fact tone. “He should be getting back here any time now.”
We were all sitting in the van once again, but the vehicle was stationary, parked where Ben had originally nosed it in upon our arrival. We were waiting for everybody’s favorite seasoning to be delivered to us, which was something I hadn’t been expecting. All I knew was that Felicity had made the urgent comment, and then Ben had picked it up and run with it. How he managed to convince a Warren County Sheriff’s deputy to make a lights and siren run for as much salt as two twenty-dollar bills could buy, I had no idea. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know either.
I had my eyes closed, but I could hear movement up front. Judging from the sound, I assumed my friend was twisting around in his seat to check on me since I was sitting in the back. Both Felicity and he had been doing that quite a bit.
My blind assumption was proven out when he spoke again, and his voice came at me from a more direct angle. “How you doin’, Row? Hangin’ in there?”
“It isn’t as bad as you two are making it out to be,” I mumbled. “It’s just one of the headaches. You should be used to them by now. I am.”
Of course, the believability of my comment was rendered null and void by the obvious strain in my voice. The truth is, I wasn’t even managing to convince myself.
“Yeah, right,” he countered. “And it was just another one of those headaches earlier too, and then ya’ started bleedin’ all over the place. What if that happens again?”
“It won’t.”
“Oh yeah, and how do ya’ know that?”
“Because this isn’t Emily Foster trying to communicate with me.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes. I can tell by the way it feels.”
“Bullshit. Pain is pain, Row.”
“Trust me, it isn’t.”
“Uh-huh, well big deal. So maybe it’s not Foster. What if it’s the Jane Doe?” He pressed. “Do I need ta’ remind you she died the same way? She might just decide ta’ make ya’ bleed too, and she might not be as nice about it.”
Before I could object again, Felicity spoke up. “I have to agree with him, Row. You don’t really know who it is trying to talk to you, and you told me yourself that it feels odd. It’s not worth the chance. You can’t afford to lose any more blood. Your body can’t take it.”
“I still say you two are being paranoid,” I groaned. My voice still wasn’t convincing, especially to me.
Ben turned his attention toward my wife. “So, Firehair, lemme ask ya’ somethin’. The salt didn’t work at the morgue, so what makes ya’ think it’ll work here?”
“Act
ually, it did work at the morgue,” she replied. “Just not the way I intended.”
“Coulda fooled me. You wanna explain that one?”
“Simple. It made Emily Foster leave. It just didn’t keep her from wreaking a little havoc first.”
“You call the white man bleedin’ all over the floor a little havoc?”
“Okay, a lot of havoc. It’s just an expression, Ben.”
“Uh-huh… So what you’re sayin’ is that it was s’posed ta’ keep all that from happenin’ in the first place?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, okay…” he grunted. “So ‘splain that one. Why didn’t it work right?”
“There were extenuating circumstances. It’s complicated. Better you just trust me and not worry about it.”
A lull fell between them for a few heartbeats.
“Wait…” he finally said, distress welling in his voice. “Was it my fault? It wasn’t ‘cause there was pepper in there with the salt too, was it? Dammit, I knew I shoulda picked those out!”
“No,” she replied, her own voice a mix of forced reassurance and mild irritation. “That wasn’t it. The pepper didn’t matter.”
“You sure?”
“Aye, Ben, I’m sure. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Good. So, why didn’t it work right then?”
“Like I said, it’s complicated.”
“Uh-huh… Complicated as in you think I won’t understand, or complicated as in you’re hidin’ somethin’?”
“It’s WitchCraft, Ben, it isn’t your forte. Isn’t that what you always tell us?”
“Yeah, but it’s my for-tay,” he stressed, “to know bullshit when I smell it. I’m thinkin’ maybe it didn’t work right ‘cause you didn’t say a poem.”
“I really think you need to stop dwelling on that,” she told him coolly.
“Of course you do. Because I’m right, ain’t I?”
“Keep it up and I will hurt you,” she told him, a frost in her voice that chilled the words in such a way as to add harsh punctuation to the threat.
“Do you think you two could play nice?” I asked. “Your bickering really isn’t helping my head at all.”
“I am playing nice,” my wife returned. “For the moment.” She paused then added, “That could change very quickly though.”
“Looks like he might be back,” Ben announced. “I’ll go check.” The absent tone in his voice told me he had already taken a left turn away from the previous conversation and was now re-focused on the original issue at hand, namely the salt.
I heard his door latch clunk, and the dome light popped on, making the previously dark world behind my tightly closed eyes illuminate with a dull, reddish glow. A second or two later, the same noise sounded on the other side of the vehicle. The out of synch stereo of both doors opening told me that Felicity was climbing out as well.
A blast of cold air blew through the interior of the van, swirling into the back and brushing its unseen fingers across my face. It actually lent some momentary relief to the throb in my skull, but momentary was the key word. I knew there wasn’t enough cold out there to act as an analgesic for what was going on inside my head-not without literally freezing me to death that is.
“Rowan, stay here,” Felicity instructed. “I’ll be right back.”
“Yes ma’am,” I muttered in return.
Seconds later the out-of-phase stereo of the doors thudding closed dropped my world back into cold darkness, with the small exception of the nearly imperceptible flicker of the emergency lights through the back windows. I let out a slow breath and continued rubbing my temples even though the massage wasn’t proving to give me any relief from the pain. What I really wanted was a handful of aspirin. At least I knew those would take the edge off before this became any worse.
Outside the van I could hear muffled voices. Just as was the case with the murmurings inside my head, I couldn’t make out any of the actual words, but I could pick out Ben and Felicity as two members of the conversation. The third person sounded angry, female, and a little familiar, but I couldn’t attach a name to it.
As I sat there listening to what seemed to be escalating into an argument, I tried to focus on it, but the pain in my head caused my concentration to abandon me, leaving my mind to wander off wherever it so desired. My recent thought of wanting aspirin seemed to be its favored destination, and it made a beeline to it. Self-preservation was trumping everything else.
As I dwelled on the desire to be pain free, I vaguely remembered Ben mentioning earlier that he had a bottle of the over-the-counter painkiller on hand if I needed it. Soon I found myself wondering if it was possibly stashed somewhere in the van. Logically, I knew it was one of the last things I should be putting into my body at the moment, but the growing migraine had pushed me to the point of no longer caring about doctor’s instructions. I needed something to at least dull the ache because it was now well past the point of being ignored.
I remained motionless for a moment, now ruminating over whether or not the mere act of moving would only serve to make the pain worse. If it did and I managed to find the aspirin, no big deal, but if I couldn’t locate the meds, then I was going to be royally screwed. I weighed the two options as carefully as my throbbing brain would let me then decided to take the chance. Unfortunately, my decision to do something other than just sit here and suffer came too late to do any good. The second I opened my eyes and started leaning forward to begin my quest turned out to be the exact same second the side door of the van flew open with an unceremonious grind and thump.
Angry words instantly blasted through the interior, centered directly on me. “What in the name of God do you think you’re doing, Gant?”
I looked over to see Captain Barbara Albright glaring at me, her gaze a mixture of anger and insistence. The identity behind the mystery voice now became painfully apparent.
“I told you to back off!” Felicity shouted from behind her. “Leave him alone!”
Peering past the angry cop who was now blocking the opening, I saw Ben latch onto my wife just as she started forward. Then he pulled her back before she could literally assault the woman.
“Storm,” Albright spat the words without tearing her eyes away from me. “Cuff that bitch and get her out of the way right now.”
If I hadn’t been hurting so much I think I would have been surprised by her blatant use of profanity, mild as it was. It was definitely out of character for the holier-than-thou Albright. Of course, what I heard next was no shock at all considering that it came spewing from the livid redhead behind her.
“ Fekking saigh! ” Felicity growled. “ Pog mo thoin! Damnu, Ben, let go of me!”
“Look, Captain, I’m not gonna cuff ‘er…” Ben insisted. “There’s no reason for it.” Then he quipped, “I’ll try ta’ keep ‘er from kickin’ your ass, but I’m not makin’ any guarantees.”
“I gave you an order,” she told him.
“Yeah, but I’m not takin’ it.”
“Fine, I’ll do it myself.” Albright wheeled around and reached beneath her coat.
My friend snorted and twisted so that he was between Felicity and her. “Not happenin’… There’s no reason for this ta’ get ridiculous. Listen, you need ta’ just calm down and give the man some room like she said.”
Of course, with all of this commotion confined to a small space that just happened to be more or less surrounded by cops, the altercation had attracted more than a little attention. Without even trying I counted three state troopers and two sheriff’s deputies descending on us already and wouldn’t be surprised if more showed up at any minute.
“What’s the problem here,” one of the uniformed officers asked.
Albright waved her badge in the air and announced, “I’m Captain Albright… I have it under control. I’m just asking Mister Gant a few questions.”
“You know you aren’t even s’posed ta’ be here, Captain,” Ben said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re on ad
ministrative leave.”
She disregarded his comment and ignored the growing turmoil. Instead, she wheeled back around to face me and demanded, “Answer me, Gant.”
Felicity suddenly let out a banshee screech, there was a heavy thump, Ben yelped, then I heard him snarl, “Goddammit, Felicity, don’t fuckin’ kick me again! And stop squirmin’ or I will cuff ya’!”
One of the deputies leapt forward and grabbed my wife by the arm and wrenched it back then immediately began slipping his own handcuffs from his belt. My wife let out a pained scream as he continued twisting her arm in an attempt to subdue her. I could also see that one of the troopers had unholstered his taser and was holding it at the ready.
“Goddammit! Just back off for a minute!” my friend barked as he muscled the deputy away while keeping an arm hooked around Felicity. “And, you, put that damn thing away! There’s no reason for this to get stupid.”
The whole situation was heading south in a hurry, and none of it was helping my head in the least. My already foul mood was souring even further, and it definitely wasn’t going to be a good mixer for the volatility forming right before my eyes. Unfortunately, my head was hurting too badly to allow me to give Albright anything other than an honest, gut response. I simply stared at her and said, “I was looking for some aspirin. Got any?”
“Get out here!” she demanded, motioning for me to exit the van.
“Captain, I’m tellin’ ya’,” Ben insisted. “Ya’ need ta’ just back off. You don’t understand what’s goin’ on here.”
“I can still have you suspended, Storm,” she shot back.
“That’s a two-way street,” he countered. “You know you aren’t supposed ta’ be here. All it’d take would be a phone call, and you’d be in more hot water than you could stand. You know I’m right.”
She didn’t reply but turned to look at him. I could only imagine the glare he was receiving.
He held fast and said, “Whaddaya say we just call a truce before this gets any uglier.”
The standoff had multiplied by several more uniformed officers, and I knew my friend wasn’t going to back down. Something told me Albright wasn’t going to budge either.
Blood Moon argi-9 Page 22
