All acts of pleasure argi-7

by M. R. Sellars

  My anger really hadn’t had time to drop off, and it immediately welled in me once again. I twisted back in a flash, snatching the handset up and placing it to my ear as I shouted, “What?! Did you think of some other curse to throw at me?!”

  There was a hollow buzz but no reply came from the other end. I couldn’t imagine that Shamus would be shut down by the comment, so I allowed my gaze to fall down to the caller ID box. I didn’t get a chance to offer up an apology right away as a confused voice finally broke the relative silence.

  “Rowan?” Jackie asked.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I returned. “I just got off the phone with… Screwit…Never mind, what’s going on? Were you able to get her out?”

  “She’s still in processing,” she replied. “They’re almost done, and then I’ll be able to get into a room with her.”

  “She’s not coming home tonight, is she?”

  “No, Rowan, she isn’t. She’s likely not coming home this weekend at all.”

  My voice dropped almost to a mumble as I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, “Dammit, Jackie…”

  “I told you to prepare yourself for this.”

  “I know.”

  “Look, I called for a couple of reasons. First, to give you an update, and second, to ask a couple of questions.”

  “About what?”

  “I called in a favor and managed to get a little bit of information about what’s going on. It’s not much, but it’s a place to start. So, what I need to know is if Felicity does any traveling alone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like for her job. Does she ever go out of town without you?”

  “Well, yeah. She’s one of the top freelance photographers in the country. She gets jobs all over the country. Why?”

  She pressed on, ignoring my query. “Has she ever been to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina that you know of?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she has,” I replied impatiently then demanded again, “Why?”

  “Without you?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

  “Specifically, about a year ago, maybe? Somewhere around the beginning of December?”

  “Yeah. I don’t remember for sure, but yeah, I think she took a trip around then, so could be.” My edginess ratcheted up the scale and I took on a harsh tone. “Jackie, just what the hell is this…”

  I stopped cold with my mouth hanging wide open. Before I could even consider finishing my sentence, the conversation with Doctor Rieth’s assistant flashed through my brain. Two and two joined forces to create four, and that became the sum of all my fears, which then punched me square between the eyes.

  “Rowan?” Jackie queried. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah,” I finally replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Listen, the information I obtained could be wrong, but the rumor is the police have hard evidence placing Felicity at the scene of a somewhat bizarre homicide in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina that happened in December of last year.”

  “What evidence?” I asked quietly.

  “I don’t know that yet,” she replied.

  The dull ache at the back of my head was now returning in force. It wasn’t going to take long for it to fill my skull and make itself right at home for the duration. I closed my eyes once again and sighed.

  “Well, they’re right about one thing,” I offered flatly. “The same woman committed that murder as did the two homicides in Saint Louis. But, Felicity is NOT that woman.”

  “I believe you, Rowan,” Jackie replied. “But you need to understand that I’m not the one we need to convince of that fact.”

  CHAPTER 9:

  “I thought I told you to wait at home?” Jackie said, glaring at me with the best stoic attorney face she could muster plastered across her features.

  “I got lonely,” I replied.

  “Don’t be a smartass, Rowan,” she snapped. “I’ve got my hands full here, so I really don’t need to be babysitting you.”

  “I don’t recall asking you to.”

  “Let me refresh your memory,” she snapped. “You asked by showing up here.”

  “Hey, don’t get mad at me.”

  “How can I not? I just had a detective drag me out of the middle of an interview with your wife.”

  “Then you should go yell at him.”

  We were standing in the lobby of police headquarters at the corner of Clark and Tucker in downtown Saint Louis. I’d been here more times than I cared to count, but usually I was escorted straight in by Ben and at times, even treated like just another one of the cops. This afternoon, however, was vastly different. I had been detained here at the main entrance, and Jackie had been brought out to see me. It was immediately obvious that she wasn’t thrilled about it. Of course, she also hadn’t been aware that I was on my way here, and I had purposely neglected to mention it before hanging up the phone earlier.

  “Right now I’d rather tell him to just shoot you,” she hissed, still trying to keep her voice low. At the tail end of the comment, she let out a heavy sigh and shook her head in exasperation.

  “From the reception I got, I’m guessing you wouldn’t have a problem getting him to take you up on the idea,” I replied.

  “What did you expect, Rowan, a marching band and a parade? You’re the husband of a murder suspect who is currently detained in this building, and you come blazing in here like everyone is supposed to clear a path for you. Wake up, will you?!”

  Jackie was in her mid-fifties but looked more like she was hovering somewhere in her forties, even when sporting the flat expression. She was the sole attorney in a wildly successful one-woman shop bearing her name, although she did have a small support staff consisting of a paralegal and a part-time receptionist.

  I’d heard rumors that she’d been offered partnerships in some rather prestigious local firms more than once but always declined in favor of the autonomy that allowed complete control over her caseload. I wasn’t at all surprised, because she wasn’t one for taking direction. Giving it, yes. Taking it, definitely not.

  “Hey, I’m trying to help here,” I appealed, attempting to change my approach, though in a halfhearted sense.

  “Well, you definitely aren’t. Helping, that is.”

  My bid at toning down my temper didn’t last, and I snarled my reply. “Yeah, well you don’t appear to be helping all that much either.”

  She tossed back a shock of platinum blonde hair and fixed me with her hard gaze once again. Physically, she was really closer to Felicity’s height than mine, but wearing her ever-present designer heels, she came right to eye level with me. The stature elevating shoes along with her reputation for relentlessly tearing apart cases-and even other attorneys if necessary-until she came out on top are what had garnered her the nickname “the pit bull in high heels.” She would instantly feign annoyance anytime she heard someone call her by the moniker, but secretly, I think she actually liked it.

  After a pause she punctuated her cold stare with a calm but brutally caustic reply, “That’s because I’m out here dealing with an asshole instead of being allowed to do my job.”

  “Listen, I…”

  She cut me off before I could finish. “No. Just shut up and YOU listen for once. If that last comment had come out of any other client’s mouth, I would have packed my briefcase and headed home. But, I’ve known you way too long, and I know that you’re actually a pretty nice guy. I’m writing this all off to the stress you are under, but believe me, I’m only going to write off just so much.

  “Besides, the reality of the situation is that I’m representing your wife right now, not you. So, I suggest you count yourself as damned lucky I’m still standing here.”

  “Yeah, but…” I started.

  “I’m not finished,” she spat, cutting me off. “Now, what you need to do is start listening to me and stop acting like some kind of maniac. You sure as hell aren’t making any friends right now, and you’re
trying my patience to say the least.”

  “But why can’t I see her?” I demanded, still trying to circumvent her tirade.

  “That’s easy. I could have told you that on the phone if you’d bothered to ask. The short list is A: She’s under arrest for two, and quite possibly three counts of first degree murder; B: You aren’t her attorney, I am; and C: Right now you’re acting irrationally and the police have some genuine concerns for your mental stability, as do I.”

  “Bullshit. I’m fine.”

  “Then like I said, start acting like it and listen to me for a change. Go home. Sit on your hands. Don’t talk to anyone, especially not the press, and just wait for me to call you. End of discussion. Is that clear?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t, Jackie. Not right now. Not after what they did to the house.”

  “What they…What did they do to your house?”

  “It’s trashed. They totally wrecked the place.”

  Now it was her turn to do the head shaking. “Did they destroy anything?”

  “No…I don’t think so…Not that I could see, anyway, but it looks like a tornado went through it.”

  “Did you happen to notice what they took?”

  “Some of Felicity’s clothes, my handgun, and some of my books on Voodoo for sure,” I rattled off my own short list. “I tried to tell them the books were mine…”

  “Are they?”

  “Yes. I just bought them. And, checked some out from the library.”

  “The books from the library shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll just have to contact the branch where you checked them out, and that should be enough to get them disallowed. What about the books you purchased? Do you have proof of when you bought them?”

  “Yes. I have the receipts.”

  “Then don’t worry about it, they won’t be an issue. Anything else?”

  I nodded. “I know there was other stuff, but I can’t remember what. They gave me a voucher, but I haven’t really gone over it…”

  “Great…Okay, fine. We’ll address that later. Have you got your cell phone with you?”

  I rummaged in my pocket to check then nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, why don’t you go find someplace to get a cup of coffee, and I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  “Are you…”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she interrupted, finishing the query for me. “Now just go and let me do what you’re paying me for.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I answered with a nod.

  Her enumerated reasons for keeping me out of the loop had effectively shut me down for the time being. On top of that, my befuddled emotions were now batting me back into depression territory. I knew I was probably shifting back and forth between sounding insane and coming off like a frightened child, just like she said I was, but I couldn’t help it. I was still trying to get a handle on what was happening, but that handle kept staying just out of my grasp.

  “You’ll call the minute you know something, right?” I asked, desperate for reassurance. In fact, my voice had an almost pleading tone to it.

  “Yes, I’ll call. Now go.”

  I gave her another nod then turned and started toward the front door of the building.

  “Rowan,” she suddenly called after me.

  I stopped and turned back to face her with a questioning look.

  “Just coffee, no booze, okay?”

  I involuntarily screwed my face into a confused expression then said, “You know, it’s not like I have a drinking problem or something.”

  “I didn’t say you did, but I know you, and in your present state, if you drink you’re definitely going to be a problem. Trust me. No alcohol, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I gave her a nod then started to turn back toward the door but stopped myself. “Wait, Jackie…”

  “What?” she asked, her voice sounding strained as she tried to hide her obvious aggravation.

  “I forgot to tell you. My father-in-law is taking it upon himself to send his own attorney down here with orders to take over the case.”

  “Do you know who the attorney is?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “Do you want his attorney to take over?”

  “No.”

  “Then as long as Felicity is of the same opinion, don’t worry about it. Just let me handle it.”

  “It’s possible Shamus, her father, might show up himself.”

  “He’s not going to get any farther than you have, so like I said: Don’t worry, just let me handle it.”

  “Okay…And, Jackie…Thanks.”

  “Yeah,” she replied as she turned, calling over her shoulder, ”You know the old line about the bill, right?”

  I watched her disappear into the elevator then continued on my way through the front doors then out onto the sidewalk. The wind was picking up, whipping along the street as it cut its way between the buildings. I could feel the encroaching cold as a burning sting against my cheeks, but even so, I didn’t bother to zip up my coat, simply leaving it wide open to the wintry chill.

  I knew I had to do what Jackie said, but I couldn’t get excited about climbing into my truck and putting any more distance between Felicity and me than there already was. While I’m certain “the pit bull” would have been happier if I would at least go a few blocks away, I set my sights on the small diner directly across the street which boasted the bizarre name, Forty.

  Residing just to the side of the entrance to City Hall’s parking lot, I knew for certain the place was a hangout for cops. Not just because of its proximity to the station but also due to the fact that I had once commented to Ben about the odd name. In response he had explained that 40 is the Saint Louis city police radio code for a meal break.

  Even though I wasn’t holding members of the local law enforcement community in very high regard at the moment, I decided I could bear sitting at the lunch counter with a cup of java. As long as I kept to myself, I figured I should be okay. After waiting for a pair of cars to pass, I stepped out onto the asphalt and jogged across the street.

  I had only been sitting at the counter for around ten minutes, my hands wrapped around a ceramic mug and eyes gazing unfocused at my reflection in the black liquid, when the hair on the back of my neck began to prickle.

  Amid the drone of chatting patrons, sizzling grills, staticky radios, and even ringing phones, a painful sound pierced my ears, launching me back out of the depression and square into the middle of anger once again.

  “Yo, Carl,” Ben Storm’s voice called to someone behind the counter. “Ya’ got that order I called in ready yet?”

  CHAPTER 10:

  “Heya, Storm, yeah…” the man replied. “Got yer eats right here.”

  I shot a quick glance in the direction of the voices and saw Ben standing near the register only a dozen or so feet to my right. He was angled away from me, and given his relaxed posture I got the impression that he hadn’t seen me when he came in, even though he had to have passed within two or three feet of me at the most.

  “Lessee, I got a Reuben, two bacon cheeseburgers, and a chicken salad on wheat.” The cook listed the order while parking a large sack on the counter between them.” With a chuckle he added, “You hungry or somethin’?”

  “Not really,” Ben responded to the joke. “This is just a snack ta’ get me through.”

  “Yeah, right, you sure you don’t want any fries or some drinks wit’ dat?”

  “Nahh, this is good.”

  The logical side of my brain was telling me to keep quiet and shrink into the shadows. This diner was literally right next to the last place on earth I needed to get into an altercation with him. And, considering the clientele here, being right next to police headquarters was for all intents and purposes just like being in the squad room itself. Of course, those were just the facts I should be paying attention to. The truth is, I had a terrible habit of allowing my emotional half to override the practical aspect of my personality, and that was when I usually got myse
lf into trouble.

  I tilted my head forward and struggled with the two sides as they competed for dominance over my actions. For the moment, I had myself nailed down, and I was fairly certain I could stay that way for a bit. The problem was, I didn’t know exactly how long that bit would be.

  “Okay, so what’s the damage?” Ben asked.

  “Seventeen-thirty-two,” Carl replied.

  He handed him the money while adding, “Jeezus. You tryin’ ta’ retire early?”

  “Yeah, I wish. Lemme get yer change.”

  “Keep it,” Storm told him and then quipped, “Buy yourself somethin’ nice.”

  “Yeah, funny. Thanks.”

  “Not a problem. Catch ya’ later.”

  “Not if I’m careful.”

  “Uh-huh. Who’s funny now?” Ben chuckled, reaching out and grabbing the bag of sandwiches. “Later.”

  “Yeah, later.”

  I immediately shifted in my seat, trying to remain inconspicuous but not actually look like I was hiding. The stool directly next to me on my right was currently empty, which would give him a clear view of me when he turned this way to leave. The seat on my left, however, was filled with a uniform clad patron, and I was concerned that too much fidgeting would just attract unwanted attention from him. If that happened then I definitely wouldn’t have a chance of going unnoticed.

  Of course, it didn’t help at all that my anger was steadily rising, effectively nudging the pragmatic approach to the situation off into the wings. If Ben didn’t get out of here soon, I wasn’t going to be hiding; I was going to be up in his face.

  I shut my eyes and kept them squeezed tight as I endeavored to slowly breathe my way through this, grounding and centering my energy in order to keep calm. Surprisingly, the bid to maintain control actually seemed to be working, and I could feel my shoulders start to relax as I continued the practiced breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth, all the while visualizing a solid connection with the earth.