Crone's Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  “Well?” Agent Mandalay asked.

  “Park attendant found the gate unlatched when she arrived Saturday morning,” he answered. “Chain had been snapped. Prob’ly with a bolt cutter, but there was no other vandalism they could find. Apparently, this happens every now and then. According to the Sergeant, they’ve caught a coupl’a drunk good ol’ boys in the past who thought it’d be a good idea to go fishin’ in the middle of the night and broke in so they could use the boat ramp.”

  “But not this time?” I asked.

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “But since there was no other damage, they just wrote it off and filed a vandalism report.”

  He offered me the handset and I took it.

  “So what was the eye roll about?” I asked as I started backing slowly toward the kitchen doorway.

  “She asked if I was the same Detective Storm that’s been on TV with ‘that Witch’,” he replied flatly.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah,” he grunted. “You’re my freakin’ claim to fame apparently.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he sighed. “It’s not the first time I’ve been asked, won’t be the last I’m sure.”

  I turned then continued through the doorway and dropped the phone back into its wall base. My mouth was already open to speak to my wife when I looked up and saw that the room was empty. I had been fairly intent on Ben’s side of the phone conversation, but I couldn’t imagine having missed Felicity coming into the room. Still, it wasn’t something I could rule out either.

  I glanced around and then turned and called back into the dining room, “Felicity?”

  I waited a few seconds but heard no reply. I called out again, “Is Felicity in there?”

  “I thought she was in there,” Constance called back to me.

  I felt my mouth curl downward into a frown as the hair on the back of my neck began to prickle in a wave of gooseflesh. The frightening hollowness that tended to visit the pit of my stomach from time to time announced its arrival, and I knew instantly that something was amiss.

  I walked through the kitchen without a word and continued out the back door, through the atrium sun porch, and exited onto the deck. The security floods were still lit, casting illumination across the raised expanse but eventually dissipating as they lost their battle against the darkness a few feet beyond the railing. My wife was still nowhere to be seen.

  I frowned harder and advanced across the deck, peering into the night toward the back of the yard. It wasn’t unheard of for her to sit on the bench along the side of her potting shed when she wanted some solitude. I strained to see if I could pick out her form amid the faint silhouette of the outbuilding but saw nothing resembling a person at all.

  “Felicity?” I called out.

  Hearing no reply, I pressed forward and down the shallow flight of stairs to the concrete apron of the driveway leading to the garage.

  “Felicity?” I called into the darkness again.

  Still, I received no reply.

  The hollowness was beginning to gnaw a hole in my stomach, and every sense in my body started advancing toward overload. I turned to my right and walked across the driveway/patio area until I cleared the corner of the house and gazed down toward the street.

  Ben’s van was off to the side of the drive, having been straightened by RJ earlier after the cop’s drunken parking attempt. Past that, I could see the tail end of Constance’s sedan where she had parked on the street in front of our house. What was conspicuously missing from the scene was my wife’s Jeep.

  I spun in place and began a fast walk back across the concrete to the deck then back into the house. As I entered the back door, I looked up at the note board on the side of the refrigerator. Next to it was a line of hooks for extra keys, and the spot reserved for Felicity’s spares was empty.

  Ben was just pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee as I came in, and he looked up. It didn’t take any of his training for him to see that I was distressed. He immediately asked, “What’s wrong, white man?”

  “Felicity’s gone,” I told him quickly. “So is her Jeep. I think she’s gone out there by herself.”

  CHAPTER 23:

  “Goddammit!” my friend exclaimed. “Hasn’t she ever heard of a chain of evidence? If there’s a crime scene out there, and she fucks it up, it’s not gonna do us any good at all.”

  “She’s not thinking straight right now, Ben,” I replied sharply.

  Constance apparently heard the commotion and came through the doorway with a puzzled expression on her face. “What’s going on?”

  “Felicity’s gone,” I told her quickly.

  “Are you sure? I didn’t even hear her leave.”

  “Apparently neither did the dogs because they didn’t bark or anything, which is unheard of.” I shook my head. “But her Jeep is definitely gone.”

  “You don’t think she…” she began.

  “That’s exactly what I think,” I replied before she could finish the question. “And, we have to stop her.”

  “Jeezus!” Ben spat. “She’s worse than you, white man. At least you wait until I’m not around before pullin’ some kinda stunt.”

  “She doesn’t deal well with people being victimized,” I told him, impatience growing in my voice. “Especially women.”

  “Yeah, that’s kinda obvious,” he shot back, starting toward the phone. “But what the hell does she think she’s gonna do out there?”

  “Probably the same thing we’ve been trying to do here. Figure out who is doing this,” I explained, growing more agitated with each passing second. “Can we save the why’s for later? We’ve got to stop her.”

  “What the fuck are you so worked up about, Row?” Ben asked as he snatched the telephone receiver from the wall. “Worst thing that can happen is she screws over the crime scene. I’m the one that needs to be pissed, not you.”

  “No it isn’t!” I snapped. “You saw what happened here tonight. What do you think is going to happen if she manages to connect directly with Brittany Larson’s corpse?”

  “What? You’ve done that kinda stuff before,” he replied. “I’ve seen you do it at the morgue.”

  “Yes, you have,” I shot back. “And think about it. Remember what happened? If Felicity hadn’t been there to bring me back, I would have ended up being their latest customer.”

  His eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Jeezus.”

  “Not my choice of deities,” I spat. “But, yeah. Exactly. We have to stop her before she finds the body and tries something stupid.”

  “Surely she knows what could happen,” Constance offered.

  “Probably, but like I said, she’s not thinking straight,” I reiterated. “The way she’s been shifting in and out of trances, I’m not even sure she’s fully in this world right now.”

  “Yeah, Detective Storm again.” Ben was speaking into the phone. “I need to speak with Sergeant Marshall again… Thanks…” He twisted the phone down and looked over to Constance. “Yo, Mandalay. See if you can figure out the most likely route she would take from here.”

  Agent Mandalay gave him a quick nod and ducked back into the dining room to check the maps.

  “Yeah, Sergeant Marshall,” Ben said as he suddenly twisted the phone back up to his mouth. “Listen, I got a situation… Yeah, I wish… So listen, you got someone headed for Woodcrest Park right now and she’s intent on gettin’ in… No, no, she’s a civilian consultant… No, she’s just a little overzealous right now… Yeah, I just need you to stop her if we don’t get to her first. Yeah, her name is Felicity O’Brien. About five-two, one-ten or so, long red hair. She’s drivin’ a black Jeep Wrangler, license plates…” Ben looked at me questioningly and motioned for me to give up the information.

  I quickly searched my memory but was too preoccupied with worry to form a complete mental picture, so I shook my head and gave him what I could. “V-X-N something.”

  “Yeah,” he contin
ued speaking into the phone. “Partial Missouri plates, V-X-N. That’s Victor, X-Ray, November. Got that?”

  “Bumper stickers,” I blurted as the thought struck. “She’s got a Pentacle on the spare tire cover, and on the bumper she has one that says ‘Magick Happens’.”

  Ben repeated the description to the Sergeant. “Yeah… Yeah, she’s a Witch too… Yeah… Funny… Uh-huh… Yeah… Okay… Yeah, I’d rather not get into that right now… Yeah, I know… Yeah, but like I said before it’s just a theory I’m workin’… Yeah, could be nothin’… Yeah, she’s just a little impatient… Yeah, do me a favor; let your officers know she’s with us. I don’t want her gettin’ hurt ‘cause of a gung ho rookie. Yeah… Let me give you my cell number…”

  “Rowan,” Constance poked her head in through the doorway. “Has Felicity been to Woodcrest Park before?”

  “Yeah, we both have,” I nodded as I spoke.

  “Would she be more likely to take Highway Forty, then head south, or get off at Two-Seventy and head south before going west?” she asked.

  “Probably Forty,” I replied. “But in her present state, who knows.”

  My agitation seemed to have leveled off for the moment. It wasn’t lessening, but at least it wasn’t getting any worse. I turned back to Ben and mouthed the words ‘hurry up’. He gave me a quick nod and finished the call as fast as he could.

  “Marshall will be callin’ on my cell if she shows up out there,” he offered as he hung up the handset then glanced over at Mandalay. “Whaddaya got?”

  “Only one road leading in to the park, and that’s Piper Valley. From here she can come at it one of three ways. Out Forty to Millstone which eventually turns into Piper Valley; or Two-Seventy to Woodsbend which intersects Piper Valley just before the park entrance. The third option would be to take Two-Seventy to Forty-Four then up Woodsbend from the backside of the park. But that would be going out of the way.”

  He looked over at me. “Row?”

  “Could be any of the three,” I returned. “It all depends on what’s driving her.”

  “Okay, lemme think.” He huffed the word out as he smoothed his hair back then brought his hand to rest on his neck. After a pair of seconds he spoke again. “Mandalay, you take Forty, Rowan and I will take Two-Seventy. Sound reasonable?”

  “That would be my call,” Constance replied.

  “What about Forty-Four?” I appealed.

  “We gotta rule that out,” he answered quickly. “Too far outta the way to make sense.”

  “But we don’t know for sure,” I pressed. “I can take my truck and…”

  “Fuck no,” he cut me off. “One loose cannon is enough right now. I don’t need you runnin’ around all Twilight Zone too. Besides, Woodcrest PD is gonna be lookin’ for her too.”

  “Dammit, Ben, she’s my wife.”

  “No shit,” he snapped back. “I was there, remember? You ain’t goin’ off alone, end of story. Now lock it up and let’s hit the road. Maybe we can catch up to her before she pulls another Rowan.”

  * * * * *

  Neither of us had said a word since getting into the van. I don’t know if it was because discussing the possibilities only served to make both of us sick to our stomachs; or, if it was simply because there was nothing more left to say on the subject. In any case, silence had become the rule, and we were making no move to break it.

  We were winding down Woodsbend Road toward Piper Valley, shrouded in darkness by the tall stands of trees on either side of us. Technically, we were cutting through one edge of the park itself, even though there was a sparsely populated residential area to our right. Still, there was no actual access to the interior roads until one went through the main entrance at the end of Piper Valley, so that was where we were headed.

  Slightly better than twenty-five minutes had passed since we had set out from my house, and I still hadn’t relaxed. In fact, the closer we came to the park without any sign of Felicity the more stressed I became. Now that we had all but arrived, I had become a knot of nervous energy with no place to go.

  Every muscle in my body was aching, almost certainly from being tensed for what seemed like forever. My head was throbbing, and while I suspected that some of it was ethereal in nature, a good portion was nothing more than plain old stress combined with a lack of sleep.

  I was almost certain that I was going to have a bruise across my chest from where I had been straining against the safety harness. I had been pitching myself forward every time we spied a set of taillights, and then I would remain there, staring intently through the windshield until we came close enough to identify the vehicle we were approaching. Invariably, when the necessary details came into view, it would not be Felicity’s. I would then slump back into my seat, even more agitated than I had been the moment before. But, even sitting back, I couldn’t force myself to relax because we would almost immediately spot yet another pair of red, glowing pinpoints in the distance, and I would begin the cycle anew.

  Ever since we had exited the highway and continued our trek along the serpentine, downward slope of Woodsbend, we had been the solitary vehicle in the darkness. There was nothing for me to crane my neck or strain my eyes to see, except the reflective dividing line down the center of the asphalt before us. Still, proximity to the park kept me wrapped so tight that I felt as if I was about to burst out of my own skin at any moment. And, I almost did just that when Ben’s cell phone chirped then moved immediately into its ever-increasing warble.

  “Storm,” he said after fumbling the device off-hook and placing it to his ear. “Yeah… Yeah… Okay… Yeah, I think we’re pretty close right now… Uh-huh… Thanks…” He reached over to the passenger seat and handed me the cell phone. “Hang that up, will’ya?”

  “What?” I demanded as I took it, thumbed it off, and then dropped it back into the center tray. “Who was that?”

  “That was Marshall,” he replied. “She says they found Felicity’s Jeep on the shoulder of Woodsbend.”

  “Is she okay?” I asked with a note of relief.

  “All they found was the Jeep, Row,” he replied, keeping his voice as businesslike as he could. “We should be comin’ up on ‘em in just a sec…”

  The phone began warbling again, and Ben repeated his earlier grope. “Storm… Yeah, Marshall just called me… Yeah, be there in a minute… Bye.”

  He handed the phone to me again, this time without a word, and I simply disconnected the call. My fleeting moment of relief had now become alarm. “Who was that?”

  “Calm down. It was Mandalay. She just got there.”

  “Ben, if Felicity isn’t with her Jeep, she’s already in the park,” I told him.

  “Yeah, Row. I know.”

  “Then we’ve got to get in there,” I implored.

  “We’re workin’ on it, Row. Calm down.”

  We continued down the sloping road, easing slowly into a particularly tight bend of which we had been forewarned by a yellow caution sign emblazoned with a sharply twisted arrow. As we started into the switchback, we could see an undulating glow against the trees. The farther into the turn we went, the brighter and more frantic they became. Finally, we hooked around the opposite side of the angle and were greeted by flickering emergency lights atop a patrol vehicle.

  Ben slowed the van and brought it to a halt behind the squad car then levered it into park and switched off the engine. I was already unbuckling my safety belt before we had come to a complete stop.

  Ben grabbed my arm as I began to shoulder the door open. “Let me and Mandalay do the talkin’. Understand?”

  “Yeah, whatever,” I answered absently.

  “I’m serious, Row,” he told me.

  “Yeah, fine,” I barked back. “Let’s just find Felicity before it’s too late.”

  “That’s the plan, Row.”

  The bright beam of a flashlight hit Ben as soon as he was out of the vehicle and then slid over into my face, effectively blinding me. Ben called out to the uniform
ed officer as we walked toward the Jeep. “Detective Storm. I’m the one who called.”

  The light came down out of my eyes, and I blinked to re-acclimate my sight to the darkness. I could hear Agent Mandalay talking to the officer and verifying our identities.

  “You the one who found it?” Ben asked, continuing forward.

  “Yeah,” the officer said as we approached. “Found it a few minutes ago, just like this.

  The door of the Jeep was hanging open, and though the engine was switched off, the keys were still in the ignition. The officer shone the flashlight around the interior of the vehicle and then aimed it toward the nearby tree line.

  He nodded toward the point no more than a dozen feet away where the light fell against a chain link fence, then played it upward to the strands of barbed wire across the top. There, hanging across the barrier was what looked to be one of the floor mats from the Jeep.

  “Looks like your suspect might have gone over the fence there.” he said.

  “Suspect!” I blurted, starting forward.

  Ben’s hand clamped onto my shoulder and pulled me back. He stepped forward himself, interposing his huge frame between the officer and me.

  Agent Mandalay was already on the defense. “She’s not a suspect.”

  “Listen,” Ben spoke, voice calm but adamant. “Let’s get one thing straight right now, she’s a consultant, and if she gets hurt I’m holdin’ you responsible.”

  I’d had enough. Standing here bantering with the Woodcrest cop wasn’t accomplishing anything other than raising my ire. Not to mention, every moment that passed was taking Felicity closer to a possibly fatal decision, if she hadn’t arrived there already.

  I glanced around and saw that the three of them were intent on one another at the moment, so I began moving toward the fence.

  Behind me I could hear the officer talking to Ben. “Yeah, okay, so what’s a consultant doing trespassing in a state park in the middle of the night?”

  “Makin’ my life hard, obviously,” Ben returned.

  “What case are you working anyway?” the cop demanded.