Crone's Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  “So, lemme get this straight. You want me to go to the lead detective and say, ‘hey, the little redheaded Witch over there says we gotta go now, ‘cause she saw a kidnap victim in her crystal ball’ is that it?” he asserted.

  “I thought you believed me,” she snarled.

  “I do, Felicity,” he shot back. “I’ve always fuckin’ believed you two.”

  “Then just trust me!”

  “I told you, I do, but right now what I believe doesn’t mean shit to these cops!”

  “How do you know if you don’t try?!” my wife demanded.

  “You know better than that. You think tellin’ ‘em some Twilight Zone crap is gonna fly? Gimme a break.”

  She glared back at him for a moment, then stepped around him and started across the lot. All she said was, “Well if you won’t do it, then I will.”

  CHAPTER 35:

  She didn’t get very far.

  It took Ben less than two full steps to catch up to her and clamp a large hand around her arm, stopping my petite wife dead in her tracks.

  “You don’t wanna do that,” he told her.

  “And why not?” she demanded.

  “Because I doubt they’re gonna be as understanding as I am, for one,” he retorted. “And for two, they’re liable to put your ass in a rubber room. Want some more?”

  “We’ll just have to see what they do, won’t we.” She offered the question as a rhetorical statement.

  My friend shook his head. “No. No we won’t.”

  She tugged hard, trying to pull away. “Let go of me!”

  “Dammit, Felicity, don’t make me cuff you to the fuckin’ van,” he barked.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” my wife returned angrily.

  “Watch me,” he growled.

  “Fek tù!”

  “Yeah, right back atchya’.”

  Felicity twisted harder, still trying to pull away. She struggled for a moment, and having no success, she suddenly cocked her leg back then kicked him hard in the shin. Ben winced as he let out a stifled yelp but still maintained his grip on the auburn-haired firestorm. When she tried to repeat the attack, he shuffled quickly out of the way, causing her to miss and almost lose her balance.

  He responded to her near fall by pushing her against the front corner of the van and steadying her there. Stepping back, he held my wife at arms length and then simply glared at her without so much as a word.

  Felicity started her struggle anew and found herself locked in an even tighter grip. She looked over and called out to me. “Rowan?!”

  From the tone of her voice, I knew she was appealing for help, and that was going to be a problem. I had been purposely staying out of the middle of this for the most part. I knew Ben wouldn’t hurt her, although I wasn’t entirely sure about the reverse. I also knew better than to get in front of Felicity when she was on a mission, and that put me in a quandary, because with everything that had happened, I could plainly see what Ben was up against.

  Of course, the fact that they were both too stubborn to admit fault didn’t help. In truth, I had seen this coming. As on edge as we had been the past few hours, this altercation was all but a forgone conclusion. And, it came as no surprise that it was between the two of them.

  As usual, life was an obstacle course, and unlike the movies, you couldn’t always make the hurdles in a single, graceful leap. In fact, you usually fell flat on your face and skinned your knees before moving on. Even worse, some of the bars were set higher than others, and this particular one was starting to look more like a wall.

  Now I was caught with my back against that barrier, knowing exactly how my wife was feeling at this very moment but also fully aware of how police investigations worked. I didn’t like the situation any more than they did. But, in the end, we had no choice in the matter, and that was an irrefutable fact.

  “Honey, Ben’s right,” I told her. “There’s nothing he can do.”

  “You’re taking his side?” she almost pleaded.

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side,” I explained. “I’m just telling you how it is.”

  “That’s fine!” she snapped. “I said I’d do it myself then.”

  “Okay, but tell me this,” I said. “What makes you think they’re going to listen to you if they won’t listen to him?”

  She stared back at me with anger, anxiety, and a host of other emotions dancing in her eyes. I could tell she was on the verge of declaring one of the Gaelic epithets she kept in her arsenal of curses, but I could also see a look of resignation behind her molten gaze. As impetuous as she could be under the right set of circumstances, she was also one who subscribed to logic. Even though it was obvious that she didn’t want to admit it, she knew we were both correct.

  A long moment passed with nothing said, then she literally shrieked, venting her frustration into the night with an audible burst.

  “All right!” she said. “Let me go.”

  “You gonna calm down?” Ben asked pointedly.

  “Yes, damn you, now let me go.”

  My friend slowly released his grip on her upper arm, a tentative look filling his face. She jerked it away and began rubbing the spot where he had been clamped on. I could tell by the way Ben had positioned himself that he was expecting her to bolt, but to his surprise, she stayed put and simply glared back at him.

  “Sorry if I hurt ya’,” he apologized.

  She answered him in a flat tone. “Aye, you did.”

  “Yeah, well that fuckin’ kick wasn’t exactly pleasant either,” he offered in reply.

  “Be glad I actually like you then,” she returned flatly. “With someone else, I would have aimed differently.”

  Ben shook his head, then said, “Listen, just stay here and calm down. I’m gonna see what I can do, but I’m not makin’ any promises.”

  “Thank you,” Felicity said.

  “Yeah, well don’t thank me yet, I’m prob’ly not gonna get anywhere.”

  “For trying, Ben,” she returned. “Thank you for at least trying.”

  * * * * *

  “What are we going to do, Rowan?” Felicity asked.

  She was parked in her seat, and she had reclined it even farther than it had been earlier. The light of the streetlamp above was filtering in through the tinted windows, bringing a dim glow to the interior that made her pale complexion look just that much more ghostly. She had her eyes closed, and she was slowly massaging her temples.

  “Wait, I guess,” I replied. “It’s all we can do.”

  “I’m having a hard time with that,” she said.

  “I know, me too,” I agreed.

  Ben had been gone for almost half an hour now. We had watched the goings on for a while but finally lost sight of him after he followed one of the detectives into the convenience store. Apparently Constance was already in there, because she had disappeared long before he did.

  We waited expectantly, milling around in front of the van and watching for any sign of his return. However, when he didn’t come back out of the building for several minutes, it became obvious that his earlier assessment had been the correct one. We weren’t going anywhere for a while.

  We eventually gave up the anxious vigil and climbed into the van to escape the chill of the night air. We were both pushing the limits of exhaustion, and it felt good to have someplace reasonably comfortable to sit. Had it not been for the emotional fuel we were both burning, I suspect we would have fallen asleep where we sat.

  I yawned and then asked, “So how’s your head doing?”

  “Killing me.”

  “Yeah…” I murmured. “I know the feeling.”

  “What about you?”

  “Dull ache,” I answered. “But you seem to be taking the brunt of it.”

  “Yes I am,” she muttered.

  We fell quiet for a few moments, and I rested my eyes as I listened to her breathing. Her respirations seemed to cycle, coming shallow for a measure, then deepening, and even holding on occasion. Sh
e was obviously fighting with some pain, and she reminded me of myself when I was dealing with the lingering effects of channeling.

  She suddenly drew in a deep breath, but instead of simply exhaling she spoke. Her words were offered as a matter-of-fact statement, devoid of emotion. “Kimberly is going to die.”

  “You don’t know that,” I told her.

  “Aye, I do. I can feel it. She can’t take much more.”

  “She might have a better constitution than you give her credit for,” I offered. “You never know.”

  My wife remained silent with the exception of repeating the series of panting breaths. I continued watching her as she worked through the pain and began to wonder about what she was experiencing. There was a very guarded feeling about her, but I’d paid little attention until now.

  “Felicity, you aren’t still connected with her are you?” I finally asked, trying to keep the concern out of my voice.

  She gave a slight nod of her head. “Yes.”

  “Exactly how connected are you?”

  “Enough to know. To feel.”

  “So, what are you feeling?” I pressed.

  “Pain” was her single word answer.

  “You’re sure it’s not residual?” I mused. “From earlier?”

  “No, it’s definitely new,” she replied, still not opening her eyes, then murmured in a disgusted tone, “He’s hurting her again, the braidean.”

  I continued watching her, and for the first time noticed that she would occasionally twitch. “Have you stayed connected the entire time? I mean ever since the seizure earlier?”

  “On and off,” she said. “More on than off, lately.”

  “Are you having trouble grounding?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you…” I let my voice trail off, falling silent for a moment, and then proceeded forward with a new question. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

  “Aye.”

  “Felicity, that’s dangerous.” This time I couldn’t hide the thick rush of anxiety that spread its cold fingers through my chest.

  “You should know,” she chided.

  “This isn’t the time for that,” I told her.

  “She needs me, Row.”

  I stared at her for a moment, furrowed my brow as what she said sank in, and then half-asked, half-stated in earnest, “Honey, tell me that you’re not trying to ground out her pain.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Felicity, talk to me,” I insisted

  She swallowed hard, then let out an involuntary whimper before sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly. Still, she refused to answer.

  “You are, aren’t you?” I demanded.

  “Aye,” she finally said.

  “How bad is it?”

  She winced, then rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. They were moist with the tears she was barely holding at bay. “It’s not good.”

  “Then you’re going to have to stop it,” I urged.

  “I don’t know if I can anymore.”

  “Gods, Felicity…” I muttered.

  “I know…” she replied softly. She took another deep breath and then shuddered for a moment. “At least it’s not as bad as at the mall.”

  “Maybe I did some decent magick for a change,” I offered.

  “Aye, maybe so…” she said and then paused to swallow hard once again before adding, “I think maybe it helps being away from where it happened too.”

  Her words rang like a bell inside my skull, awakening my grey matter from its tired slumber. Muddy thoughts parted, allowing a clear and frightening idea to advance forward. I dwelled on the sudden revelation for several minutes as we sat in near silence, the only sounds being those of Felicity’s labored breathing.

  I finally interrupted the quiet atmosphere with the calm statement of two simple words, “Stay here.”

  I turned in my seat and jerked the side door of the van open, then climbed out onto the lot.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice cracking with the next wave of pain she was channeling.

  “To get you out of here,” I replied.

  With that, I shut the door then set off for the convenience store.

  * * * * *

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ben said to me, waving his hand in front of me. “Tell me again, she’s doin’ what?”

  “Channeling Kimberly Forest’s pain,” I repeated.

  I had made it almost three-quarters of the way across the lot before I was stopped. Not that I hadn’t fully expected it. In fact, I was surprised I had made it as far as I had. It took some finesse, but I managed to convince the uniformed officer that it was imperative that I speak with Ben, sooner and not later. He called over to another officer, who then went to deliver the message. A moment later, my friend came out the front door and looked over in our direction with an air of annoyance.

  We were now standing on the lot where the officer had stopped me, a light wind rising and falling around us.

  “So if she’s all Twilight Zone again, what are you doin’ talkin’ ta’ me?” he asked, concern welling in his eyes as he started to take a step toward the van.

  “It’s not exactly like that,” I said, holding out a hand to stop him.

  He halted and looked at me with his head cocked to the side. “Well then, what ‘exactly’ is it like?”

  “She’s purposely channeling Kimberly on a limited level in order to help her cope with the pain that’s being inflicted.” I explained.

  “So she is kinda la-la then?” he asked.

  “Somewhat, yes.” I nodded.

  “And she’s doin’ it on purpose?”

  “Exactly, but that’s not the point. She’s telling me that Kimberly can’t take it much longer, and that means she won’t be able to either.”

  “You’re not tryin’ ta’ say…”

  “Yes,” I exclaimed. “I’m trying to say she’s going to end up killing herself.”

  “Well fuckin’ tell ‘er to stop.”

  “She’s beyond listening, Ben.”

  “Well explain it to ‘er,” he replied.

  “Understanding isn’t the problem,” I told him. “She’s connected and that’s that.”

  “You mean she can’t stop?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. The connection between them is too strong. When she more or less hijacked it earlier, she made it a part of herself. Combine that with the fact that she knows Kimberly… She’s just not letting go.”

  “Felicity?”

  “Either of them.”

  “Well, then, what about some hocus-pocus,” he pressed. “Like ya’ did earlier.”

  “I could try, and I will, but I doubt it’s going to do any good. I probably just got lucky earlier,” I said and then looked away for a moment before adding, “Besides, that won’t help Kimberly Forest.”

  “Well whadda we do?”

  “We have to make it stop.”

  “Okay, how?”

  “By finding Kimberly and ending the torture.”

  He shook his head and reached up to smooth his hair. “Rowan, even if I walk in there and tell ‘em to fuck off, we’re leavin’, we still got no idea where she is.”

  “That might not be a problem.”

  “Come again?”

  “Felicity showed you something on the map, right?”

  “Yeah, the other fuckin’ side of the river,” he answered in conjunction with an animated nod. “Like I said earlier. Not much help.”

  “Well…” I started and then looked away, ashamed of what I was about to say.

  “Well what? Did she remember somethin’ else?”

  The thought I was about to voice was the one that had struck me when I was back at the van. The very notion that I had considered it then, made me ill. The fact that I was now about to verbally suggest it, made me want to vomit.

  “Right now Felicity is totally connected with her. She’s more or less like an ethereal metal detector,” I rep
lied. “Only instead of metal, she’s tuned in to Kimberly Forest. If I’m right, the closer she gets to her physically, the…” I stopped and swallowed hard, mutely damning myself for the words that were coming out of my mouth.

  “What, Row?” Ben urged.

  I took a quick breath and blurted the offending sentence, “The closer she gets to her physically, the more intense the pain will become.”

  CHAPTER 36:

  “Listen, I don’t know how you handle investigating a shooting in the city,” the detective said. “But in the county, we make damn sure we dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s.”

  We were standing on the periphery of the crime scene, away from the physical investigation, which was still in full swing. The lead detective had come out to talk to us and was now positioned with his arms crossed and a stony look on his face. His proverbial five o’clock shadow had already gone several hours past maturity, and it made his countenance just that much more severe.

  His suit was rumpled, and the knot of his tie was pulled down at least three inches. The top button of his shirt was undone, revealing an indelible ring around the inside of the fabric. A stain, coffee from the looks of it, browned a small patch of his shirt around mid chest.

  Simply by his appearance, he painted a picture of a long day that was just getting longer with each passing minute. It was obvious that he was beyond tired and in no mood for anything that was going to stand between him and bringing an end to the shift.

  Unfortunately, even with the nondescript expression he was forcing onto his features, I got the distinct impression that having something else piled on him, such as our irregular request, had just gone a long way to sour his demeanor even more.

  “We do the same thing,” Ben replied, annoyance in his voice. “So let’s not even go there.”

  “Fine,” the county detective replied. “So we don’t have much to discuss, do we?”

  “Look,” Ben outlined. “Alive and in peril beats dead and growin’ cold any day of the week. We both know that.”

  The detective gave him a curt nod. “Yes it does. I’ll give you that in a heartbeat. So what you’re saying is that you know where this kidnapped woman is?”