Rowan Gant - Perfect Trust Part 15

G.o.d it hurts.

"Look, I may be a cheerleader, but I don't bend like that.

Give me a break."

Heavy breathing in the darkness.

Oh G.o.d, why can't I breathe ?!

"Look at him, Rowan. LOOK AT HIM!"

Hair just so.

Chin tilted up.

No, stay that way.

Yes.

Legs crossed.

The silky feel of her stockings against the back of my hand.

Another rush of arousal.

Yes! Perfect!

POP!.

Bright Light!

POP!.

Bright Light! POP!

I can't feel anything. I can't even feel my heart anymore.

"Talk to me, white man." My friend insinuates himself into the vision once again, only to become a fourth voice in the turmoil.

If only it was really her...

Really her...

Really her...

Darkness.

Fear gives way to warmth.

Warmth gives way to cold.

Cold gives way to nothingness.

"Oh, man, what are you taking your pants off for you idiot?

You gonna jerk off some more?

Oh, no way.

You aren't going to are you?

Can't you see I'm already gone?

You're gonna be s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g a dead body you moron!

G.o.d, you're just sick.

Man, put 'em back on, that's just disgusting.

You sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

So beautiful...

So close...

For now...

She'll do for now...

Look at me, Rowan, don't turn away.

Look at me, Rowan, I'm dead today.

So what are you gonna do about it?

CHAPTER 9.

"If I'd been told it was anyone else, I never would have believed it."

The feminine voice issued from the doorway and was accompanied by the low whooshing sound of the door being forced quickly open. Sheathed in an authoritative tone the words glanced sharply from the tile walls, striking their targets from all sides. Those targets were, without a doubt, Ben, Felicity, and me.

The comment didn't exactly seem angry, but it wasn't altogether friendly either. Itwas more along the line of a mixture between disturbed chastising and a cold statement of fact. In any event, no matter what emotion could finally be pinned to the verbiage, the sentence cut through the atmosphere in the room on a determined course. The intent behind its mission was fulfilled as all three of us came instantly to attention, swinging our startled gazes toward the issuer of the remark.

Doctor Christine Sanders, Chief Medical Examiner for the City of St. Louis, didn't look at all pleased. Truth was, she looked like she would much rather be asleep. Considering both the hour and her rumpled appearance, she'd obviously been roused from bed. Her close crop of brunette hair, flocked with grey static, was tousled and her eyes were heavily lidded with a weary haze. She was hastily adorned in a pair of jeans, a baggy sweatshirt, and sneakers. Her parka-like coat hung across her slight frame, unzipped, with the hood carelessly thrown back.

"Hey, Doc," Ben offered sheepishly.

Under his breath, my friend muttered a quick trailer to his statement, "d.a.m.n, she got here quick." The barely audible addendum was spoken as if he wasn't at all surprised by her arrival.

"Just what the h.e.l.l have you got against me, Storm?" she asked as she allowed the door to swing shut and ventured purposefully into the cold room. "Did I do something awful to you that I'm not aware of?"

"I dunno why you got called," Ben shook his head as he stepped toward her.

"There was no reason to bother you over this."

It was obvious, to me at least, that he was playing dumb. The observation didn't escape the M.E.'s attention either.

"Excuse me?" she returned. "I should have been called before you ever came in here."

"I didn't wanna bother you."

"You didn't want to bother me," she offered the statement back to him incredulously. "What's wrong with you? You didn't think someone on my staff would call me anyway? You know better than that."

"What for?" he shrugged.

"Well, let's see." She rolled her gaze upward and gestured toward us. "For starters, three people show up in the middle of the night to view a body from an active homicide investigation."

"Yeah, so?"

"You know full well that this is outside normal procedure. If we didn't know her ident.i.ty it would be one thing, but we know exactly who she is. I'm also betting that none of you are next of kin."

My friend continued to press his luck. "Yeah, so? Since when did viewin' remains become outside normal procedure?"

"Dammit, Storm! Will you quit it with the innocent act! You know exactly whatI'm talking about. It's almost one A.M. for G.o.d's sake! This is a morgue not a quick shop!"

Felicity and I remained silent during the exchange. My wife still hadn't released her grip on my hand, and in fact, she was squeezing so tight that my fingers were beginning to go numb. I gave her a quick nudge and glanced down at the entwined extremities. She followed my gaze and immediately picked up the queue.

Itchy pinp.r.i.c.ks a.s.saulted my digits as blood flowed once again unfettered into my hand. Far worse, however, was the sudden feeling of isolation and detachment that washed over me as we separated. I had known that I was having trouble staying grounded-even if I hesitated to admit it-but the depth of this sensation drove firmly home the severity of my problem. It had been so long since I'd felt so truly centered and at ease that the feeling had been almost like a drug. I wanted it back, I wanted more, and I wanted it now.

Being instantly without the warm comfort it brought had ushered in its own brand of fear to fill the void. I had to consciously tell myself not to reach for Felicity's hand like a frightened child.

"Okay, so we aren't exactly keepin' banker's hours," Ben reb.u.t.ted. "But we're just havin' a look. No biggie."

"If that is the case, Storm," Doctor Sanders contended, "then why did you send the diener out of the room?"

Ben shook his head at the mention of the morgue attendant. "I figured he had better things to do than stand around and watch us look at a dead body."

"That's a large part of his job to begin with and you know it. Are you sure it wasn't so he wouldn't see what you were doing with that dead body?" she shot back.

"We weren't doin' anything with it." He went on the defensive. "Just what are you implyin'?"

"I'm not implying anything, Storm," she declared. "Johnathan tells me he heard some kind of chanting back here after he left you three."

"That would have been me," Felicity chimed in.

"Stay out of this, Felicity," Ben ordered over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," the doctor directed her gaze toward my wife, "I know we've met, but I don't recall your name."

"O'Brien. Felicity O'Brien."

"Right. Well, Ms. O'Brien, since Detective Storm seems to be stuck talking in circles right now, would you like to explain what is going on here?"

"Listen, Doc," Ben took another step forward and insinuated himself physically between the ME. and us, "let's leave them out of this. If you've got a problem, take it up with me.""I tried that already and it didn't get me very far, now did it?"

The tension was rapidly building between the two of them, and my friend's heretofore uncooperativeness was at its root. He was now making a bid for control over the situation, but I wasn't entirely sure he was going to win out. As was his nature, he was using his physical stature as an intimidation tactic; or trying to at least.

Doctor Sanders appeared totally unfazed.

"So what are you gonna do about it, Rowan?" Debbie Schaeffer whispers softly into my ear.

The sudden return of the disembodied voice took me by surprise. I had been fully under the impression that any link with the other side had been completely severed the moment the Medical Examiner had interrupted us. Obviously, I was wrong.

"Look," Ben told the M.E., "I'm sorry. Let's just work this out, okay?"

She met his challenge with one of her own. "If you really want to work this out you can start by telling me what is going on here."