M Sellars: Blood Moon

“You must be the infamous Benjamin Storm,” she said, holding her hand out toward him.

He took it but maintained a confused expression.

“And, you must be Constance,” she continued, patting Mandalay on the shoulder. “I’ve heard all manner of stories about you two from Rowan and Felicity.”

“How are you doing tonight?” I asked, giving her a smile and a nod.

“Fine, just fine,” she replied, shooting a wide grin toward us. “So I finally get to meet these two.”

“Aye, finally,” Felicity agreed.

“Wait just a minute,” Ben interjected. “Let’s get back ta’ the food. You ain’t really gonna feed us a bunch of chicken guts, are ya?”

“Rowan’s right,” she replied. “You’re awfully gullible for a cop.”

He looked at me. “You said that?”

“Only about certain things.” I shrugged. “Not the important stuff. Mostly just when it comes to food.”

“Food’s important.”

“You know what I mean. For example, I got you to eat ostrich.”

“Yeah, I still haven’t forgiven ya’ for that one.”

“Relax,” Ailleagan told him, patting his shoulder again. “I just gave you the basic recipe for my personal variation on haggis. We aren’t serving that till next week.”

“What day?”

She cocked her head to the side, looked thoughtful, and then said, “Probably Wednesday.”

“I won’t be here,” he grunted.

“Then I won’t set you a place. Seriously though, Spring Chicken Wellington is just chicken,” she continued. “It’s baked in a pastry just like Beef Wellington. I can’t tell you any more of the recipe than that or I’ll have to kill you, and since you’re a cop…”

“Yeah, I see you’re a funny one too,” Ben told her.

“I like to think so. Now let’s see, where was I… Oh yes… On the side, we’re serving Sicilian green beans sauteed with garlic and diced salami. And for dessert, fudge brownie sundaes.”

“I heard salami and fudge sundae,” Ben said with a nod. “Those I can work with. I’ll let ya’ know on the chicken thing. Usually I have mine fried.”

“Believe me, this will be better,” she said.

“So, Ailleagan, this might be too much to ask,” I said. “But you wouldn’t happen to have any of the sacred pie back there, would you?”

She grinned. “As a matter of fact, when Felicity called I made one just for you.”

“You’re a doll.”

She feigned a curtsy. “I know.”

“Okay,” Ben grumbled. “What the hell’s sacred pie?”

“Oh, you’ll find out. If Rowan let’s you have any, that is,” she quipped then paused and gave the dining room a quick scan before adding, “Things look under control out here. Doug should be out with your dinner in just a minute. I think I’ll go grab a plate for myself and join you.”

“That would be wonderful,” Felicity said.

“So you’re gonna eat with us?” Ben asked.

“Is that a problem?” she answered with her own question.

“No…” he said. “I don’t guess so. Just not used to the chef sittin’ down with me.”

“Welcome to Flipdoodles,” she said with a disarming smile.

“Yeah, thanks,” he grunted. “So lemme ask ya’ somethin’. If you’re gonna eat with us, can I just call ya’ Jewel?”

Without missing a beat she replied, “Can I just call you Geronimo?”

It was obvious from the look on his face and the length of his pause that Ben hadn’t been expecting the quick retort. Before he could answer, she nodded her head and winked. “Ailleagan will do just fine, Benjamin.”

He shook his head and cast his gaze back and forth between Felicity and her. “Ya’know, if ya’ had an accent I’d swear you two were sisters.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she said with a grin. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Doug might be needing some help, and I still need a plate for myself.”

As soon as she scurried off, Ben looked across the table at my wife and said, “You’re enjoyin’ this, aren’t ya’?”

“Why shouldn’t she?” Constance interjected. “I am.”

“This is gonna be a long friggin’ night,” he muttered.

“I wouldn’t worry,” I told him. “If Ailleagan didn’t like you, she wouldn’t…”My sentence was interrupted by the trilling of my cell phone as it started to vibrate on my belt. I reached for it while finishing the thought. “…she wouldn’t screw with you. Relax. You’re all good.”

I pulled the device up and glanced at the LCD. The caller ID was displaying an unfamiliar number with an out-of-state area code. I pursed my lips thoughtfully for a second and then slid the warbling phone back into the belt holder without answering.

“Screenin’ your calls?” Ben asked.

“Sort of, I guess. I don’t recognize the number, and it’s from out of state. I’ll just check my voicemail later. If it’s a client or something, they’ll leave a message.”

After a few seconds, my cell fell silent and stopped tickling my side.

“Okay, so since according to you your friend apparently thinks I’m okay, is she gonna be pickin’ at me for the rest of the evenin’?” Ben asked.

“No more than Constance or me,” Felicity replied.

“Great. Like I said, long friggin’ night.”

“What are you complaining about?” I asked. “All this attention from three beautiful ladies… I’m a bit jealous, myself.”

“Yeah, right. Ipecackle or whatever it is Firehair always says.”

“ Cac capaill,” she corrected him. “Horse shit.”

He wagged his finger in her direction and said, “Yeah, that. Twice.”

The conversation was again interrupted by the jangling tones of a cellular phone, but this time it wasn’t mine. Felicity raised an eyebrow and then reached under the table for her purse. Pulling it up she extracted her cell and gazed at it.

“That’s odd,” she mumbled then held the device over in front of me. “That look familiar?”

I glanced at the number and let out a soft humph. “Actually, yeah. I think that’s the same number I just ignored.”

My wife pulled the cell back then flipped it open and leaned her head to the side as she slipped the earpiece beneath her bright auburn tresses.

“Hello?” she said. A look of recognition spread across her face a split second later, but it definitely wasn’t accompanied by happiness. “Yes, Doctor Jante,” she continued, turning to look at me as she talked. “I’m fine, and you? That’s good… Yes, actually he’s right here, but I am afraid we’re out to dinner at the moment. Is there any way I can have him call you back?… Oh… I see… Just a second then.”

Felicity pulled the phone from her ear and held it out to me. I returned a slightly puzzled look but took it from her anyway. A solid month had passed since we had spoken with the FBI psychologist, so the fact that she was calling, especially late into a Friday evening, piqued my curiosity at the very least.

Constance was already whispering across the table, “Is that Doctor Ellie Jante with the BAU at Quantico?”

Felicity nodded and mouthed, “Yes.”

“Doctor Jante,” I said into the phone, my voice guarded. “This is Rowan.”

“Mister Gant,” she replied. “I’m sorry to bother you this evening. Your wife already explained that you are out to dinner, but I personally felt this was important enough to warrant a call.”

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“That remains to be seen,” she replied. “Annalise Devereaux is asking to have a face-to-face meeting with you.”

I didn’t reply. I simply sat with the phone against my ear and pondered the words she had just offered. This was something I had been trying to make happen for what seemed like forever. But now, just coming off this recent case that still had me questioning myself, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be mired back in the ethereal quicksand so soon.