M Sellars - The End Of Desire

“We all make sacrifices from time to time,” I said with another shrug. “But, yes, you’re right about that too. So, it all comes back to the question of, would I kill her now if the opportunity presented itself? I think you know me better than that.”

“I like to think I do, but that is a paradox in itself because I also know you’ll do anything to protect Felicity. Otherwise, you wouldn’t even be thinking about it. Not to mention that you are still avoiding the question.”

“You’re right again,” I agreed. “So, I guess it’s all a matter of trust. But, then, you and Ben have already discussed this, haven’t you?”

“Yes, we have.”

“And, I guess you drew the short straw when it came to who was going to ask me?”

“Actually, no. Ben is fairly well convinced you’ll kill her if you get the chance. I was on the fence so I decided to ask on my own.”

“Are you asking as an FBI agent or as a friend?”

“A little of both, I suppose.”

“I see,” I said with a nod. “Well, I guess I didn’t give you the answer you wanted to hear, did I?”

“No, you didn’t. But, truthfully, you gave me the one I expected.”

Sleep finally entered the picture sometime around four in the morning. Of course, what little of it there was didn’t come in the form of truly restful slumber. Felicity had tossed and turned up until sometime after six when her body and mind finally gave in to the exhaustion. I don’t know that my brain ever reached that point. I drifted in and out of a twilight sleep, jerking awake each time I felt her move.

In the end, the fitful attempt at rest only served to make seven A.M. seem to come just that much earlier, especially since the hour was accompanied by a hard knock on our bedroom door.

“Her cell phone just went active again,” Constance said as I swung the door open and blinked.

My grey matter was still huddled in a state of half-sleep, so I simply stared at her as I tried to make sense of what she had just told me. Unfortunately, while I recognized the words, all semblance of cohesion between them escaped my grasp. I shook my head and briefly flashed on the fact that I would probably be far more alert if I simply hadn’t slept at all.

After a second or two, which seemed like a small eternity, I managed to grunt, “What?”

“Devereaux’s cell phone,” she repeated. “It just went active a few minutes ago. We’re tracking the signal now.”

This time I managed to latch on to the sentence and process it into a mental picture that made sense. I glanced over at my wife who was still sleeping. The pillow she was clutching over the top of her head combined with the mild, lingering pain in my ribs told me she had heard the knock as well, but as usual she wasn’t about to let anything roust her from the bed until she was good and ready. As far as I was concerned, that was fine. She needed the rest. I could sleep when this was all over.

I nodded and stepped out into the hallway, gently closing the door behind me. Then I followed Constance into the living room where Ben was perched on the arm of the sofa looking only slightly more awake than me.

“Coffee’s already makin’,” he grunted.

“If she calls, we already know she is going to want to speak to Felicity,” Constance offered. “But, I’m going to take it and see if I can stall.”

I shook my head. “Why don’t you let me take it instead?”

“Why?”

“She’ll have more to say to me than to you. Maybe I can keep her occupied longer.”

“That might not be the best idea, Rowan. You’re too close to this.”

“Of course I am. She wants to kill my wife.”

“Exactly my point.”

“Look, Constance, signal tracking is only going to get you a general location. You know that. If I can keep her on the call, you’ll have a better chance of pinpointing where she is.”

“Yes, I do know that, but we have other ways to do this.”

“No, you don’t. If her phone had a GPS module, you would have already used it.”

“There are still other ways.”

“Okay. What are they?”

As if on cue, the muffled trill of the ringer sounded in the basement, immediately followed by the handset on the table chirping. Constance and I both started toward the dining room at the same instant. Since I was already a step closer, I reached the phone first, but as my hand closed around it, Constance took hold of my wrist.

“Relax,” I said, as I remembered the conversation we’d had only a few hours before. “I can’t kill her over the phone.”

“He’s right,” Ben offered. “Better let ‘im take it.”

“All right,” she said, letting go of my wrist. “Just stay calm and keep her talking as long as you can.”

“That’s the plan,” I replied with a quick nod then snatched up the handset, punched the talk button, and began speaking. “Emerald Photographic Services, may I help you?”

A familiar Southern-accented voice rolled out of the earpiece. “Put the chienne on.”

“Good morning, Annalise,” I replied coolly.

She repeated the demand. “Put her on.”

“I assume you mean my wife. I’m afraid she’s still asleep.”

She didn’t reply, but I could still hear her breathing at the other end. I waited for the telltale click of the line going dead, but after several seconds, she finally spoke.

“Rowan,” she stated in a cold, matter-of-fact tone. “I thought I recognized the voice.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“How is your arm, little man?”

I unconsciously glanced at the mostly healed bite wound she had inflicted. The stitches had already been removed, and the bruising was pretty much a memory at this point. Still, there was a very pronounced jagged line that was going to leave an interesting scar.

“Fine,” I said. “How about yours?”

“You bruised me,” she replied. “I really didn’t appreciate that.”

“Well, if I were you I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for an apology.”

“Va te faire, vous d’une chienne! ”

“I hate to tell you this, but I didn’t understand that the last time you said it, and I still don’t. I’m afraid you’re going to have to speak English, otherwise this conversation is going to be a bit one-sided.”

“I said, you fucking son of a bitch.”

“See, now that I understand.”

As I spoke I glanced over in the direction of the living room. Constance was on her cell phone once again, but she didn’t look particularly pleased. Ben was keeping his eyes focused on me. I’m not really sure what they were afraid I might do, but obviously they weren’t leaving anything to chance.

“Your wife is taking something that doesn’t belong to her,” Annalise said.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I replied. “She’s not taking a thing.”

“Miranda is giving it to her.”

“Wrong again. Miranda isn’t welcome here.”

“No, it’s you who is wrong. You can’t stop Miranda. She does as she pleases.”

“She does as she pleases, or you do as she pleases?”

I waited for an answer but received none. I knew from her extended silence that I had struck a nerve.

“That’s why she brought you back to Saint Louis, isn’t it?” I continued. “Because I took Felicity away from her.”

“Miranda wants her,” Annalise finally said.

“Yes, I got that impression,” I replied. “But, you can tell her for me that isn’t going to happen. She can’t have her.”

“She already does.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re wrong about that.”

“I’m not. You just don’t know it yet.”

“What did you do, Annalise? Does it have something to do with the cloves and the candle at Lewis’s apartment?”