M Sellars - The Law Of Three

“Actually,” Mandalay said, not missing a beat, “I paid for mine.”

“Excuse me?” Albright retorted.

“Oh yes. I just paid it off last year as a matter of fact.” Mandalay adopted her own attitude in rebuttal. “Cornell Law, class of ninety-seven. Of course, you could be correct; I might not know what I’m talking about. I was only the salutatorian.”

Edgy silence filled in behind the explanation. Even Felicity had stopped struggling with Ben, and for the first time since the altercation started, she was mute.

“He threatened a police officer,” Albright finally declared, her voice filled with a tenuous confidence.

“I perceived no threat,” Constance offered. “How about you, Storm? Did you see Rowan threaten the lieutenant?”

“Threaten?” Ben asked with mock surprise as he turned toward them. “No, I musta missed that.”

“You’re walking a VERY thin line, Storm!” Albright said.

My friend shrugged. “Sorry, Lieutenant. I must’ve been pre-occupied or somethin’.”

Albright snarled. “You both know full well that it was a verbal threat.”

“Sticks and stones, Lieutenant,” Mandalay offered. “Sticks and stones.”

Albright expelled an angry breath but remained mute.

“Back to what I was saying, Lieutenant.” Mandalay began speaking again, completely in control of the situation. “You might want to re-think this action, and I’ll tell you why. Let us just forget the civil rights violations, the inevitable lawsuits, and the bad press for a moment. Instead, let’s look at some basic facts. One, you presently have Eldon Porter loose on the streets of Saint Louis. Two, Porter has abducted a woman with the intention of killing her. And most importantly, three, your one and only link to Porter is Rowan.

“Now, once again this is just my opinion.” Mandalay added an infusion of sarcasm to the comment. “But I think you would be better served by releasing Rowan, bidding a hasty retreat, and allowing Detective Storm to act as your liaison.”

Weighty tension flowed in to mix with the silence following Agent Mandalay’s carefully worded suggestion. I was still making an indelible impression of my face in the surface of the wall, not of my own choice of course. My earlier mental exercise had done wonders for my inner self, but it wasn’t accomplishing much regarding the physical aches and pains that were wracking my body. While I had somewhat welcomed them a few moments ago, I was more than ready for them to be gone.

The muscles in my arms were now approaching the full throes of cramping. If I was unable to change my position soon, the heightened discomfort I was currently battling was going to become searing agony. If that wasn’t enough, Albright had not bothered to set the stops on the handcuffs-purposely I’m betting-and the metal bracelets were cutting off the circulation to my hands. The first one she had slapped the restraint around had already gone numb, and the second was well on its way.

Topping it all off, I was still dealing with the complaining nerve endings that surrounded my various injuries of the day.

I heard Albright force out another angry breath although this one sounded as if it held a bit of resignation as well. A moment later, the pressure against my back released and the jangle of keys met my ears.

“This is not over by any means, Gant,” Albright warned as she unlocked the cuffs, taking little care as she did so.

First, one of my arms, then the other fell, coming down to my sides just as the initial wave of severe cramping was about to attack. I shook them loosely and then stretched.

“You had best hope that Porter does not harm that young woman.” Albright continued to lecture me.

I worked my fingers in and out of my palms as I turned to her and then inspected my wrists. I stopped for a moment to rub the thick, red depressions that encircled them, biting my lip as feeling returned, taking the form of countless shards of broken glass and barbed hooks rattling about inside my digits.

“I doubt you’ll be able to find anyone who is hoping for her safety any more than me,” I echoed with as little anger in my voice as I could manage.

She simply glared at me, her jaw working as she clenched her teeth behind the thin gash formed by her intense frown.

“Storm,” she finally snapped, turning to him. “Mark my words, Detective. Your days are numbered.”

“Yeah.” Ben half nodded. “I’ll be sure to put it on my calendar.”

Albright snorted haughtily then turned on her heel and stalked toward the front of the apartment. When she reached the door, she rested her hand on the knob and hesitated. After a brief moment, she turned to glare at the four of us.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” I asked, not sure what else to do.

“Just exactly what were you saying earlier, Miz O’Brien?” she queried in a demanding tone. “You kept repeating something.”

Felicity glowered at the lieutenant as she crossed her arms beneath her breast. I could tell by looking at her that it was taking an immense amount of effort on her part to remain calm. My wife arched one eyebrow and spoke, her accent and brogue heavier than usual from the anger, “Aye, Fek tu saigh, maybe? ”

“Yes,” Albright snipped. “I suppose that is one of your Witch curses.”

“Oh, nothing so eloquent as that, then,” Felicity answered. “But, aye, it was a curse all right.”

“What then?” Albright pressed.

I couldn’t help but notice that she reached up and began fingering the small cross hanging around her neck. Unless I was misreading her, there was actually a small swath of fear in her face.

“Are you certain that you are wanting to know that, then?”

“I ASKED, did I not?” Albright barked.

Her voice cracked when she spoke, revealing for a fact what I had suspected. For all her verbal bravado, she actually harbored a fear of WitchCraft.

Felicity drew in a deep breath, cocked her head to the side, and then translated the phrase into carefully measured English. “Fuck. You. Bitch.”

Indignation filled the lieutenant’s face, but not before a barely noticeable wave of relief washed over it. If I hadn’t been watching as close as I was, I never would have seen it. Nevertheless, I did, and I logged it away for the future.

She said nothing in return, but upon her exit, I would almost have to say that Lieutenant Albright gave my wife a run for her money in the door-slamming department.

“Damn,” I muttered in the wake of the door’s echo. “She’s getting just as melodramatic about this as Porter.”

“Yeah,” Ben acknowledged with a heavy sigh. “She’s got a real bug up her ass when it comes to you.”

“You mean she’s always like this?” Mandalay asked. “How does she keep her job?”

“Well, she was a lot worse just now than I’ve ever seen,” Ben told her. “Usually she’s just a Bible thumpin’… How’d you say that, Felicity? ‘Sigh’?”

“Aye,” she nodded. “ Saigh.”

“Yeah, one of those,” he continued. “But tonight, this was… Hell, I dunno what this was.”

She looked at him and shook her head in disbelief. “Storm, you absolutely have to go to Internal Affairs about this woman. I hate to sound cliche, but she’s a loose cannon.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “I’m tight with a copper that moved over to IAD a couple years back. Maybe I’ll drop in on ‘im tomorrow if I have a few minutes.”

“I think it would be advisable,” Mandalay replied.

“Well,” I spoke up. “I appreciate both of you coming to the rescue. Thanks.”

Ben grunted, “Uh-huh. I’ll prob’ly regret it. I’m bettin’ I shoulda let her arrest ya’ anyway.”