“We don’t really allow…” he began.
Ben slipped his badge case from an inner jacket pocket then quickly flashed his shield and ID inches from the doctor’s nose. “You were saying?”
“Is there a problem, Officer?” the doctor asked, taking a step back.
“Not really,” Ben replied as he tucked the case back into his pocket. “And, by the way, that’s Detective.”
“My apologies.”
“That’s okay. I thought you were a nurse,” Ben replied then continued speaking before the doctor could say anything. “So, here’s the deal. Rowan is one of our civilian consultants, and he happens ta’ be helpin’ us with a fairly important case right now. I just needed to talk to ‘im.”
“I see,” the doctor said with a curt nod. “You know the sarcasm was completely unnecessary.”
“Go have yourself half the day I’ve already had, then come tell me that,” my friend returned without missing a beat.
Rather than argue, the doctor turned his attention to me. “How are you feeling, Mister Gant?”
“Confused, hungry, and a little tired, pretty much in that order,” I replied. “How about you?”
“Confused?” he asked.
“No need to write it down, Doc, it’s not a symptom,” I told him. “It’s just something we were discussing about the case is all.”
He nodded and said, “I see,” again. He didn’t sound particularly happy about anything at the moment, but I couldn’t really tell if that was his natural demeanor or if Ben had set him off by sticking a badge in his face and generally being an ass.
“So, what’s the prognosis?” I asked.
“At the moment your vitals are stable,” he replied while looking through a file. “Your blood work appears normal… I am however, a bit concerned that we haven’t yet been able to pinpoint the actual source of your blood loss.”
“You won’t,” I told him.
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s a long story you wouldn’t believe even if I told you.”
He repeated his pat phrase. “I see. Well, I’d like to admit you for some tests anyway.”
I shook my head. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to do that.”
“Mister Gant, it’s important that you realize the risk this could pose. If you are bleeding internally…”
“I’m not,” I said, cutting him off and waving at my neck. “Remember? All the blood was on the outside.”
He sighed hard. “What is it going to take to convince you to stay overnight for some tests?”
“Nothing you have, I’m afraid,” I told him. “Seriously, you aren’t going to find anything.”
The doctor turned and looked past Ben at Felicity. “Miz Gant… Can you talk to your husband?”
She didn’t correct him on the faux pas with her name. She simply shook her head and shrugged. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me then?”
The doctor closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment before giving it a shake and letting out another sigh. “Fine. I can’t make you stay against your will,” he said then checked the nearly depleted IV bag hanging above me. “But, I do want you to stay until we get the rest of this fluid into you. That will take maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. Can you spare that much time?”
“Okay,” I agreed with a nod.
“I’ll get your paperwork taken care of and then you can go. I’d like to suggest that you get some rest and stay hydrated. Avoid alcohol, coffee, soda, and caffeinated beverages. Drink water and apple juice instead. I would also like for you to take an iron supplement. An over-the-counter one will do.”
I nodded again. “Okay.”
He continued. “If you experience any extreme fatigue, headaches, heart palpitations, or especially any more bleeding, get yourself into an emergency room right away.”
“I can do that,” I replied.
He scribbled something on the chart then stepped around Ben and exited the treatment room without another word. It was obvious he wasn’t happy with the way the conversation had gone, but I was convinced he’d get over it quickly enough. There was bound to be someone coming through the doors at some point who needed his attention far worse than me.
While we were waiting for the IV bag to run out, Ben looked over at Felicity and said, “I s’pose now wouldn’t be a good time ta’ say I told ya’ so, huh?”
“I told you so about what?” she asked.
“Ya’know, the sayin’ a poem thing with the salt before Row did the Twilight Zone thing.”
“Aye, you’re right.” She nodded thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I thought you might’ve wanted ta’…”
She cut him off mid sentence. “I mean you’re right that it isn’t a good time.”
“Yeah, okay, but I did tell you so.”
“Ben…” she warned. “I’d hate to have to turn you into a cockroach and step on you.”
He snorted and gave her a bemused look. “Yeah right, gimme a break. Remember who you’re talkin’ to here. I’ve been around long enough to know the hocus-pocus shit doesn’t work like that.” He glanced over at me. “Right, Kemosabe?”
I shook my head. “You know, Ben, you might want to be careful. After what she managed to pull off back at the morgue, I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
“You ain’t serious, right?”
“About which part?” I asked.
He let out a nervous chuckle then mumbled, “Yeah, great… Okay…” After a long pause, he cleared his throat while reaching up to give the back of his neck a quick massage. “So, listen… I know you’re just fuckin’ with me, but at the risk of endin’ up on the bottom of Firehair’s shoe anyway, I need to ask ya’ somethin’… The powers that be wanted ta’ know if you’d take another run at this.”
“What?!” Felicity almost yelped. “Are they fekking insane?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, holding up his hand to stave her off. “I told ‘em I’d ask, but I also told ‘em not ta’ count on it. So, no pressure from me here at all. Believe me.”
As soon as a lull fell between them I spoke up. “Yeah. Tell them no guarantees, but I’ll give it a try.”
“Rowan…” Felicity admonished.
“Hey… Row…” Ben chimed in, shaking his head. “Like I said, I told ‘em to expect a no.”
“So they’ll be pleasantly surprised, and maybe you’ll score some brownie points.”
“That ain’t what this is about,” he insisted.
“I know that,” I replied. “But I also know—and both of you do too—that until we solve this, Emily Foster’s spirit isn’t going to leave me alone. I can bleed there with a doctor on hand, or I can bleed at home without one. Either way, it’s pretty obvious that it’s going to happen whether I like it or not.”
“Aye, maybe not. I think she got the point earlier,” Felicity objected.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said with a nod. “Who knows? But where does that leave Judith Albright?”
“Damn your eyes,” Felicity conceded.
“Sorry.”
“Okay, you’re right,” she offered. “But before you try this again, we take more precautions.”
“Agreed. What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe you oughta go ahead and say a poem first this time,” Ben interjected.
My wife shot him a death glare but didn’t take the bait. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” she said as she looked back to me.
“Well, we have a little time to think about that,” I told her. “Because before we do anything I need to eat.”
“Yeah, I could definitely eat,” Ben said with a nod. “You wanna grab somethin’ at Forty’s, or would ya’ rather keep your distance from the morgue until you’re ready?”
“I don’t really care as long as it’s someplace that serves liver and onions,” I replied.
“Liver? Jeez… I dunno how you eat that shit.”
“With a knife and fork,” I quipped.
/> “Yeah, real funny, Row,” he returned. “I mean it tastes like crap.”
“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, but I admit I don’t usually crave it like I am today.”
“You’re cravin’ the stuff? Hmmph. Well maybe it’s leftover Twilight Zone screwin’ up your taste buds.”
“Why do you say that?”
He shrugged and gave me a thoughtful nod. “Oh yeah, I don’t guess I told you about that yet. Doc Sanders is still waitin’ on the labs, but she did get a read back on Emily Foster’s stomach contents. Looks like her last meal was beef liver.”
* * * * *
As I’d predicted earlier, we found ourselves at the Metro Diner because it was the closest establishment in the downtown area that could accommodate my sought after menu selection. Ben’s recently shared revelation had actually taken the edge off my craving, most likely because he was correct in his assumption that there was an ethereal element to it, and Emily Foster’s last meal was the culprit at the root.
Still, even with my desire for the dish having been substantially dampened, I had worked up a taste for it. Besides, the doctor wanted me to take an iron supplement, and liver was loaded with the stuff.
As it turned out, I wasn’t disappointed. The liver was fork tender and swimming in gravy with a generous helping of caramelized onions sitting on top. The mashed potatoes were lumpy just like homemade, and the pile of buttered green peas next to them was a culinary imperative.
Something was finally going my way for a change, which was a good thing because deep down I knew this sudden stroke of luck wasn’t going to last.
CHAPTER 25:
“You get enough?” Ben asked, giving me a quick nod.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”
He shook his head. “I still dunno how you can eat that crap ta’ begin with.”
“To each their own,” I said with a shrug. “I like it.”
“Yeah, well we already knew there was somethin’ wrong with ya’. That’s just more proof.”
We were still sitting in a booth at the Metro, Felicity and I on one side, Ben on the other. We had arrived well after the lunch rush, and the dinner rush was still around an hour away yet, so the diner was only around half full. Still, given that our conversations tended to take unexpected turns, my friend had asked them to seat us back in the corner away from the rest of the patrons.
“What about you, Firehair?” He glanced over at Felicity.
Half her Reuben was already stuffed into a Styrofoam carton and was sitting on the table in front of her.
“Aye,” she returned, nodding toward the container. “And lunch tomorrow.”
“So I guess I’m the only one thinkin’ about those pies behind the counter?” he asked.
“You’re on your own,” she told him.
“What she said,” I echoed.
He glanced at his watch and from the look on his face did some mental calculating. Finally he mumbled, “Aww hell, why not…”
A second later he flagged down our waitress and ordered a slice of the coconut cream.
“So, other than you trying to backfill that bottomless pit you call a stomach, what’s the grand plan?” I asked.
“Whaddaya mean?”
“Well, I know I’m the one who insisted we eat first, but we seem to be ignoring the gorilla, if you know what I mean.”
“Hey, you tell me,” he grunted then wagged his finger between us. “You two were s’posed ta’ be figurin’ out your precautions. I’m just along for the ride.”
I turned to look at Felicity. “I don’t know that we really need any. You seemed to handle things just fine earlier.”
“Yes I did,” she replied. “But that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with not having something to back me up.”
“Backup’s a good thing,” Ben agreed.
“Of course it is,” I said. “But, I’m not sure what it would be in this case. I definitely don’t want to drag anyone else into this.”
Felicity nodded vigorously. “Aye, I agree with you there.”
“Not ta’ change the subject, but how you feelin’ anyway, Row?” Ben asked.
I turned back to my friend. “Fine, why?”
He shrugged with his eyebrows. “Just wonderin’. I couldn’t help but notice that ever since the hospital, you haven’t had your face all pinched up like normal.”
“My face what?” I asked.
He waved his hands and shook his head. “Not normal normal… I mean like the normal when you’re havin’ a la-la land headache… Ya’ don’t have that crease in your face that usually comes along with ‘em.”
“Oh… Well… You know, I hadn’t thought about it,” I replied. “Actually, my head feels fine for a change.”
“That could be another problem then,” Felicity chimed in.
I glanced her direction once again. “What do you mean?”
“I banished Emily Foster,” she said. “She might be gone for good.”
“You left that spell open ended enough to summon her back though.”
“True, but you know as well as I do there’s still no guarantee she’ll come.”
“As pissed as you sounded?” Ben interjected. “I wouldn’t if I was her, ghost or not.”
“Really?” Felicity scoffed. “It’s never seemed to stop you before.”
“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “Me, cockroach, squish. I get it. Honestly I think you just take a perverse pleasure in givin’ me a hard time.”
“Yes, I do,” she said with a grin.
“Coconut cream,” the waitress said as she appeared and slid a generous slice of pie in front of Ben. “Would anyone like more coffee?”
Felicity passed on the java, but Ben and I both opted for a fresh cup even though the doctor had warned me off. Once the waitress was gone, I tried to steer the conversation back into the proper lane. “Look, right now Judith Albright needs to be our concern. Maybe we should skip the morgue and go straight to the crime scene.”
“We don’t really have one,” Ben explained. “The last place she was seen was the house where she lived with the vampire whacko. Already been over that with a microscope. No sign of struggle, no nothin’. Her purse, keys, and car were gone, and that’s it. The geeks are goin’ over ‘er computer but nothin’ yet… So there’s not much ta’ see. All we know is…”
Before he could complete the thought, he was interrupted by the sound of a cell phone, which was warbling deep inside his pocket. He settled his pie-mounded fork onto the plate and then fished around until he retrieved the screaming device. Giving a quick glance at the display, he raised an eyebrow then flipped the phone open and put it against his ear.
“This is Storm,” he said, his voice taking on a somewhat more official tone than usual. “Yes… What time? Okay. Actually, we were just discussin’ a different approach ourselves. No, I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Just a second, let me get somethin’ to write with.”
He switched the phone to his other hand but continued holding it against the same ear as he sent his newly freed appendage searching for a pen. A moment later he had a notebook out on the table and a ballpoint in his fingers.
“Go ahead,” he told the person at the other end. “Yeah… Yeah… Okay, got it. CSU there yet? Good. Who’s runnin’ the scene? Yeah, got it. Uh-huh, we’re on our way.”
He folded the phone and tucked it back into his pocket then re-inspected what he had written before doing the same maneuver with the notebook.
“I take it we’re going somewhere?” I asked.
“Looks like you kinda got your wish,” he replied. “Seems we all of a sudden officially have a crime scene. State trooper just found Judith Albright’s car at a rest area on Highway Seventy just outside Wright City.”
“That’s an hour from here,” Felicity said.
“Yeah, just about,” Ben agreed then shoveled in the forkful of pie, which he quickly followed with a second much larger portion. After swallowing h
e added, “So, we better get movin’. It’s already gonna be dark by the time we get there.”
My wife pulled out her cell phone and stabbed a speed dial number then tucked it up to her ear as she said, “Let’s hope RJ can run by the house and let the dogs out, or we’ll be having a mess to clean up.”
In his typical fashion, he managed to down the rest of the pie before Felicity and I were fully out of our seats.
* * * * *
Just like my wife had said, the roadside rest area was something on the order of an hour from where we were when the call originally came in. However, with Ben behind the wheel the trip was instantly reduced to 45 minutes. If he had elected to use his emergency light and siren, that probably would have shaved it back to 30 or even less. Having white-knuckled a few rides with him in the past, I was perfectly content with taking the extra time.
For the better part of the trip we had engaged in idle chitchat, both about the case and about nothing at all. However, for the last 10 minutes or so, things had fallen relatively quiet. I didn’t really mind since I was still dealing with the aftereffects of my earlier episode at the morgue, so I had laid my head back and closed my eyes under the guise of resting for a bit.
Unfortunately, the physical drain that was pulling me down was the least of my worries. While there was a lull in the conversation between the three of us in this plane of existence, inside my skull it was a completely different story. The ethereal chatter was almost deafening. I couldn’t make out the words just yet, but I knew that would be changing.
Like always, it was starting with the pain boring its way into the back of my grey matter. I couldn’t say that this time was really any more intense than usual, but perspective changes everything. The simple fact that I had been devoid of the torture for the last few hours made it seem even worse now that it returned.
Still, it was the routine ache of someone from across the veil pounding on my inner door, a thing I had grown to know and hate, but ultimately accept. However, something about this caller was inexplicably disturbing. Although still clouded in a curious fog, there was something intensely intimate about the feeling—different, but all too familiar in a way I simply couldn’t pin down.
Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 21
