Rowan Gant - Perfect Trust Part 29

The tenor in her voice left no question that she wanted the conversation to be a private one. Ben picked up the receiver and handed it to me as the phone automatically disengaged the speaker, then motioned for Charlee to follow him out. I waited for the door to shut before pressing the handset to my ear.

"What's up?" I asked.

I had actually considered for a moment the mental laundry list of items I wanted to speak with Helen about, but quickly decided that this was neither the time nor the place.

"I simply wanted to see how you were doing," she returned.

"I'm fine."

"You are certain?""Well, I was until right now," I said. "Do I have a reason not to be?"

"Only you can answer that, Rowan. When you left after our last session you were still dealing with some very serious issues. I'm concerned that those issues may be what are compelling you to become so entrenched in this investigation."

"I think my compulsion is actually a bit more otherworldly," I offered, not entirely sure where she was headed.

Something didn't seem quite right but I couldn't pin it down. I wasn't sure if it was her words or maybe just the clinical way in which she presented them. All I could say for sure was that she didn't sound like the same Helen Storm who had just been speaking to us moments ago.

"While I do not doubt that fact in the least, I also do not want you to lose sight of the here and now. You should not allow your strength to become your vulnerability."

"How do you mean?"

"That remains to be seen, Rowan, and will be based solely on the decisions you make."

"Is there something that I'm missing here, Helen?" I had no idea what she was talking about. "Pardon me for saying so, but you don't sound quite like yourself."

"You are my patient and I am simply expressing my concern for your well being, Rowan."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I am sure."

"Well, I'm not sure I'm understanding what you mean."

"You will," she stated without emotion. "Though it may sound cliche, simply bear in mind that one should sometimes follow the road less traveled."

"Okay." I paused for an awkward moment, not knowing what I should say. "So, anything else?"

"No. We will talk about it more during our next session."

"Okay," I said again, and physically shrugged out of reflex. "Did you need to speak with Ben?"

"No," she returned. "Just tell him that I am looking forward to this evening. Bye."

I barely managed to get my own parting words out before the line disconnected at her end, leaving me to feel thoroughly confused by the entire conversation.

"Everything okay?" Ben asked me once I'd rejoined him at his desk.

"Yeah, I think so. Where's Charlee?"

"She got called back down to Vice. You sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. So, what happens now that my theory might be a non-theory?""Depends. We still don't have a suspect, whether your theory is right or not."

"But the connection with Paige Lawson could lead to something couldn't it?"

"Possible connection," he corrected me. "A very strong possibility, yeah, but we don't have a smoking gun."

"Maybe not, but there's definitely something there."

"I'm not sayin' there isn't."

"Good, because I know I'm right about this."

"You're just f.u.c.kin' dyin' to say it, aren't ya?"

"Say what?"

"I told you so."

"Yeah, maybe a little."

"Well, you might wanna wait until we've got more to go on. Who knows, we..."

For the second time in the past hour, the phone on his desk demanded attention, and brought our conversation to an unceremonious halt.

"Homicide, Storm," my friend answered the device with an annoyed clip in his voice, but then his tone quickly changed. "Oh, hey, what's up?"

I wasn't really paying much attention to his "uh-huhs" and "yeahs." I was concentrating instead on a blank spot on the wall across the room while still trying to figure out the strange conversation I'd just had with Helen Storm. It was when he stopped grunting into the phone that the silence prompted me to look up and find him staring at me.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know if I'd call you wrong, but you sure as h.e.l.l ain't right, Svengali."

"What are you talking about?"

"That was Chuck on the phone. Apparently the reason she got called back down to Vice was because one of the rape victims showed up to tell her somethin' she remembered."

He just continued to stare at me, then after a moment began to shake his head.

"What?"

"Apparently this woman remembers something about a Prom Dress."

"Can I say 'I told you so' now?"

"Shut up."

CHAPTER 19.

"So are you going to talk to her?" I asked.

"Yeah," Ben nodded. "McLaughlin said we could meet in one of the interview rooms down there."

"Mind if I tag along?"

"I don't, but she might. I actually wouldn't mind having you where I can keep an eye on you, but you need to remember this woman was raped. She might not be all that keen on a couple of men descending on her all of a sudden."

What my friend said made perfect sense. What didn't make sense was the fact that I hadn't considered that fact from the very beginning. Normally, I was far more sensitive to the feelings of those around me, and the circ.u.mstances arising from a situation like this should have been painfully obvious. At this particular moment, however, I was oblivious.

My brain had pretty much been a jigsaw puzzle for the past two months, but instead of drawing closer to completion each day, entropy had been taking its toll. It even felt like some cosmic basket of kittens had been stealing pieces here and there when I wasn't looking. For once, the forces of nature seemed to be acting in my favor. The smothering coc.o.o.n that had been spun around me by those wanting to keep me safe was now giving way, whether they were ready for it to do so or not.

Vindication was just around the corner and the very fact that it was so close imbued me with confidence.

Things were finally starting to come together, and I was determined that I would not be left out. I wasn't about to miss any chance I had of regaining my stability. I wanted my life back, and something told me that an important piece of it was in the possession of this victim.

"What about those one way mirror things?" I suggested.

"You've been watchin' too much T.V.," my friend told me as he gathered up his notebook and shrugged on his jacket. "Look, you can come downstairs with me.

Short of kickin' you out or gettin' a restraining order, I doubt I can stop you from doin' that much. But, remember, this woman is a victim as well as a witness and you're not a cop, so if she doesn't want you in there, you're out. Got it?"

I nodded. "Of course."

We were already on the move, me at an almost jog to keep up with my friend's normal long-legged pace. He rummaged around in his pockets and withdrew a tin of breath mints, offering them to me after popping one in his own mouth.

"You need one, smokey," he said. "Trust me."

I took his advice, and then he snapped the lid shut and stuffed them back into his pocket.

"You gonna call Felicity and tell her you're down here?" he asked as he jerkedopen a stairwell door and motioned me through.

I took a quick glance at my watch. It was almost ten-thirty. The Santa Brigade, as they liked to call themselves, would be right in the middle of entertaining a group of kids at the moment. If everything were following the intended schedule, they would be heading out for the next stop in about an hour.

"She should have a bit of a break around eleven-thirty," I told him. "I'll probably call her then."

"Don't forget to check with her about tonight."

"Will do. So, if we're able to make it, what should we bring?"

"Just yourselves."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's not a big deal and we'll have plenty. Although, ya'know, if you happen to think about it, Allison wanted the recipe for that beef tenderloin you guys served the other night."

His request reminded me that we had completely forgotten to tell everyone what they had actually eaten for the Yule feast. I was sorry that Felicity wouldn't be here to see his reaction.

"Ummm, that wasn't beef," I said as we started down the stairs.

"Well, it sure didn't taste like pork," he said.

"That's because it wasn't pork either."

"It sure as h.e.l.l wasn't chicken."

"Actually, it was Ostrich."

My friend slowed his pace, almost stopping as he gave me a long look, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "Ostrich. You mean like big-a.s.s-stickin'-its-head-in-the-sand-bird? You mean, that kinda Ostrich?"

"Actually," I offered, "they don't really stick their heads in the sand, they just lay them along the ground."

"Ostrich?" he repeated, ignoring the bit of trivia.

"Yeah," I nodded as we rounded a landing and picked up the pace once again, "Ostrich."

"Jeez, white man."

"Didn't you like it?" I asked.

"I had seconds didn't I?"

"And thirds as I recall, so what's the problem?"

"I ate a f.u.c.kin' ostrich, that's the problem."I hung back as Ben conferred with Detective McLaughlin at the doorway to the interview room, and then after a moment waved me over.

"Okay, this woman was raped about two weeks ago, and she's still pretty skittish.

Right now, she's all right with you bein' here," he told me in a stern whisper. "But here's the rules-you're an observer. Let us handle it, and if you get some kinda hinky Twilight Zone thing goin' on, gimme some kinda sign so I can get you outta there."

"Like what?"

"I dunno, anything. Better yet, just don't go off into never-never land on me and we won't have to worry about it."

"I'll try," I said. "That's all I can do."

"Yeah, well try really hard. I don't need ta' be worryin' about you goin' off the deep end and spookin' a witness too."

Charlee pulled the door wide to allow entry and we were greeted with a thick haze of blue-white smoke that hung in languid ribbons on the already stale air. A thin shiver arced down my spine and I knew instantly that I was on the correct path.

"Ms. Hodges," Charlee said as she shut the door behind us, "this is Detective Storm and Mister Gant. Detective Storm is the officer I was telling you about.