M Sellars - The Law Of Three

“With what?” he shot back without looking in my direction.

“Whatever you’ve got going on in your head,” I returned. “I know you probably want to yell at me, so just do it and get it over with.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” he asked.

“That whole deal back there with Albright,” I pressed. “It’s not like we couldn’t hear the explosion.”

“If you were listenin’ in then what the hell are you goin’ on about?”

“Aye,” Felicity interjected, using her voice to drive a wedge between us before the situation could become any more volatile. “We weren’t exactly eavesdropping you know. We could hear voices but couldn’t make much out, then.”

My wife had placed her hand on my shoulder, and I could feel her acting as a lightning rod, forcing me to discharge at least some of my welling anger.

“Yeah,” he huffed as he released the wheel with one hand and smoothed back his hair before allowing his fingers to come to rest on the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. Got kinda loud, didn’t it?”

“Aye, just a bit,” she agreed.

“So fill us in,” I asked when at least a modicum of calm had crept into my voice.

“Well, I’m not workin’ this case anymore if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“But, do you still have a job?”

“Yeah, for now,” he answered. “But I dunno how long that’ll last.”

“So she didn’t suspend you?” I asked.

“Nahh,” he shook his head as he spoke. “She can’t. Not directly anyway. But, she can pull strings, and you can bet she’s makin’ those calls right now. The other thing she CAN do is kick me off the Major Case Squad, and she did that before I even opened my mouth.”

“I’m sorry, Ben,” I sighed. “Man, I’m so sorry.”

“What’re you apologizin’ for?”

“For doing this to you, of course.” I shook my head. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been defending me.”

“Is that why you think I wanna yell at ya’? Fuck that.” He screwed up his face and gave me a dismissive wave. “This was just the sprinkles on the icing for her. Albright has had it in for me from the git-go.”

“But…”

“But nothin’, white man.” He cut me off. “You aren’t responsible for this, so give it up.”

“Aye, what if she gets you suspended, then?” Felicity asked.

“Then I get a vacation,” he offered with a shrug.

“Are you sure about that?” I asked.

“At this stage of the game, yeah,” he nodded. “I haven’t done anything to get myself shit-canned yet. Reprimanded, yeah. Transferred, maybe. But it’s nothin’ I can’t live with.”

“Then why did you come out of there so pissed off?” I questioned.

“Hey, Kemosabe, I was in there with Bible Barb. I seem to recall you losin’ it yourself a little earlier. You wanna re-think that question and ask it again?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Besides,” he ventured. “She said some shit about you that really got to me.”

“Like what?”

“No way, man. I’m not gonna repeat it.” He shook his head. “But let’s just say the bitch is lucky I won’t hit a woman.”

“I’m so glad that you’re here,” Cally told Felicity as she hugged her tight. “Nancy’s upstairs in the bedroom. She just fell asleep a few minutes ago.”

“Aye, dear.” My wife returned the embrace and spoke in a comforting tone. “That’s good then.”

We were standing in the entryway to Randy and Nancy Harper’s two-story home on Arkansas, just a block off Grand Avenue in the city. We’d been here several times before when they’d hosted circles for the Coven. Those happier recollections now seemed to dull against the painful sharpness of this new memory in the making.

I glanced around and noticed a small, wheeled suitcase, which was parked at an angle against the wall, pull-handle still extended. It had obviously been forgotten in light of the current circumstances. In the opposite corner, a bentwood coat tree stood at attention beneath a crush of winter outer garments. Next to the stairs, a small, antique telephone table sat with a pile of mail strewn across its top. A digital answering machine occupied one corner, its green power indicator glowing in the muted light of the hallway. I absently wondered why, at times like this, the normally insignificant things around us would stand out in stark contrast to everything else. Without warning and for no apparent reason, they would become illuminated details in a darkened tableau. It was more than just curious to me. In a sense, it was almost disturbing.

“Oh, Rowan…” Cally let her voice trail off for a moment as she released Felicity and wrapped her arms around me. “The police were just here. They looked around for a while and asked a few questions.”

I gave her a reassuring pat on the back as I returned the hug, feeling her conspicuous anguish connect with my own purposely subdued emotions. “It’s okay, Cally. It’s okay. They have to do their jobs.”

“She’s been asking for both of you,” she told us as she pulled away.

“Aye, we’re here now,” Felicity said. “But let her rest. She’ll be needing it.”

“Everyone else is here,” Cally continued. “They’re in the back.”

“Go ahead.” I nodded to them. “I’ll wait for Ben.”

“Detective Storm?” the young woman asked.

“Aye, he brought us.”

“He’s finding a place to park the van,” I added.

“He’ll be along in a bit,” Felicity told her as she took her arm and guided her back down the hall.

I watched them disappear through a doorway at the end of the corridor, then turned and opened the front door as I heard a familiar voice and shuffling feet on the other side. Ben had just raised his hand to knock as I swung the barrier open and moved to the side.

“How’d you know I was there just now?” he asked as he stepped in through the opening.

“You mean besides the fact that we arrived together?” I asked, not really expecting an answer to the sardonic question.

“Don’t be a smart ass. I mean how’d you know I was there right at that moment? You doin’ that hocus-pocus stuff?”

“Nothing quite so ethereal,” I answered. “I heard you talking.”

He seemed almost disappointed. “Oh. Okay.”

I cast a glance outside before swinging the door shut and noticed a uniformed officer getting back into his patrol car, which was parked on the street in front of the house. Moderately sized flakes of snow were beginning to float down from the grey sky, drifting at ever changing angles on the gusts of cold wind.

“Starting to snow,” I said, announcing the observation for lack of anything better to say.

“Yeah.” Ben nodded as he shrugged off his coat, keeping his voice low. “Gonna get bad out there. They’re callin’ for three to six inches.”

“They were saying just one to two last night.”

“Yeah, well you know how it is,” he answered while looking around the foyer. “Nice digs.”

I took his coat and hung it from an available hook on the dark, bentwood tree, then slipped out of mine and did the same.

“Randy is…” I caught myself and reformed the sentence. “Randy was a real estate agent,” I continued the explanation as I turned back to my friend. “He picked this place up back when property down here was going for pocket change. Gutted it and rehabbed it himself. Kind of like you and Allison did with your place.”

“He did a hell of a job.”

“Yeah. Yeah he did.” I frowned as I nodded. The past tense references were sickening reminders of why we were here.

“So,” Ben spoke after a moment of awkward silence, still keeping his voice at low volume. “How’s she doin’?”