M Sellars - Harm none

“I wish I’d never seen it,” Felicity muttered in a dejected tone.

“And if R.J. really is guilty?” Deckert asked her rhetorically. “How would you feel then? Look, I don’t want to see an innocent kid go down either, but I’m not so sure that’s what’s happening here. The shrink says it looks like the kid got himself a crush on these women and then got rejected. It just kept building, and he finally snapped and carved ‘em up. Got himself a vicious circle going. Kill a woman then feel guilty. Fix it, in his mind anyway, with that expulsion thing of yours and then do it all over again.”

“Expiation spell,” I corrected. “And as pat and logical as that all sounds, it doesn’t feel right.” The hair rose on the back of my neck, and a tingle ran down my spine as I voiced my next thought, “R.J. being unjustly accused isn’t our biggest worry right now though.”

“What is then?” he questioned.

“If we ARE right, and he IS innocent,” I expressed grimly, “then the real killer is still out there, and that means another young woman is going to die.”

The waxing moon was creeping steadily toward fullness and had just begun its trek across the cloudless, early evening sky as we parked in front of Ben and Allison’s home. Nestled snugly within the confines of the historic district of the city, the stone structure rose upward two stories from the well-kept lot to a steeply pitched, slate tile roof. The two of them had spent the first few years of their marriage restoring this house, and Felicity and I had been there to help them put it all together. Now, the two of us felt as if we were, in a figurative sense, responsible for tearing it apart. We weren’t about to let that happen.

After Detective Deckert left earlier in the day, I called Ben at the MCS command post. He had remained distant and guarded during the conversation, much as he had the day before, but I was determined in my desire to resolve the situation and effectively invited Felicity and myself over for a visit. Before he could object, I said goodbye and hung up.

Allison met us at the front door wearing a thin, disconcerted smile and kept silent as we entered. Ben was wearily lounging on the sofa, tie undone, and fingers twined around the neck of a full bottle of beer.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Allison offered mechanically.

“No thanks,” I responded, “I’m fine at the moment.”

Felicity just shook her head. Allison fidgeted nervously, reminiscent of a trapped animal. It was as if our declining her offer had somehow cut off an avenue of escape, leaving her no choice but to face that which she was working so hard to avoid. After spending a tense moment recalculating her options, she hesitantly positioned herself on the couch. She took a seat noticeably distant from Ben but close enough to give the outward appearance that nothing was wrong. Still, the strain with which this was done would have been palpable to even the most oblivious stranger. The fact that we knew them as well as we did turned the small sign into a lighted billboard.

“Where’s the little guy?” I asked as Felicity and I found chairs opposite them.

“He’s sleeping over with his friend across the street,” Allison replied, seeming to ease somewhat at the benign question.

“I guess Deckert told you ‘bout R.J.,” Ben interjected, unceremoniously changing the subject.

“He did,” I answered, “and while we have our own views on the subject, that’s not the first thing on our agenda.”

“Agenda?” Ben repeated. “Are we havin’ a meetin’?”

“You could say that.”

The two of them simply stared back at us sullenly. We sat and allowed the thick silence to envelope the room and the four of us with it. Felicity and I had troubled over this conversation the entire afternoon, and though we had discussed and rehearsed everything we wanted to say, when it came down to the wire, the memorized script was forgotten.

“Look, Felicity, I’m sorry,” Ben suddenly gushed. “If there was anything I could do, I would. I wish I had never mentioned this case to you guys.”

“So Deckert was right,” I asserted. “You really do blame yourself for what happened.”

“If the shoe fits,” Allison muttered.

“Are you serious?” I faced her. “You actually believe Ben is at fault?”

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” my wife blurted, unabashedly taking the bull by the horns.

“Whaddaya mean?” Ben’s expression changed from guilt to shock at Felicity’s candor.

“What I mean is, what gives you the right to feel responsible for my miscarriage?”

“If Ben hadn’t…” Allison started.

“ Cac capaill! ” My wife spat a Gaelic profanity. The gates were open, and Felicity was living up to the stories about redheads and their tempers. “Ben had nothing to do with it!”

“I got you involved in this whole mess,” Ben insisted. “If I’d never asked Rowan to help, you never would’ve lost the baby.”

“You didn’t ask, Ben,” I expressed evenly. “I volunteered. So did Felicity.”

“She didn’t volunteer to have some asshole slam ‘er into a wall,” he shot back.

“I went over to Cally’s house of my own accord,” my wife interjected slowly and with more than a hint of anger. “You can’t possibly be responsible for my actions. And you, Allison.” She shifted her blazing stare. “How can you possibly blame Ben for something he had no control over?”

“Maybe he didn’t cause it directly,” Allison returned. “But he never should have brought you into this.”

“She’s right,” Ben added. “You guys aren’t cops. I never should have exposed you to the risks.”

“ Damnu ort! ” Felicity stood as the expletive burst from her lips. “How dare you! How can you two be so selfish?!”

“Selfish?”

“Yes, selfish!” she shouted. “This is MY pain, not yours! It’s MY fault!”

I joined Ben and Allison in their stunned expressions as I turned to my wife. We had discussed at length the fact that Ben was not to blame for the accident, but at no point had she ever affixed that blame to herself.

Until now.

Felicity remained standing, her auburn hair draping forward as she dropped her chin, murmuring through choked whimpers. “It’s my fault. I’m the one to blame.”

I was caught completely by surprise. I inwardly damned myself for not recognizing the fragility of her mental state. Even with the heightened senses I had developed through years of practice and meditation, I had completely missed this possibility. I shouldn’t have even needed those senses to know that something like this could happen. I felt horribly fallible. I had let her down.

“No, Felicity.” Allison was up from her seat instantly, maternal instincts in overdrive. “No it isn’t.”

I stood and placed a comforting hand on my sobbing wife’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, honey. It’s nobody’s fault. It was an accident.”

She turned quickly and buried her face against my chest, shoulders heaving as she let out the pent up emotion. I wrapped my arms about her gently, holding her close but trying to avoid putting pressure on her cracked and bruised ribs. Ben was on his feet now. Both he and Allison looked back at me in astonishment. It was obvious from their expressions that they hadn’t foreseen this eventuality either.

I continued to hold this woman I loved more than my very life, crooning softly to her and allowing her to release the torrent of tears she had been silently gathering for the past day. We all stood wordlessly in the living room until Felicity’s weeping ebbed. Eventually, she began to calm. The shaking slowly faded away, and the sobs were replaced by muted sniffles. She looked up at me with reddened eyes and brushed a tangle of hair from her face.