M Sellars - Never Burn A Witch

So did ya’ find out what was eatin’ at Mandalay?” Ben asked as we headed toward the building’s exit.

The troubled federal agent had left police headquarters well before Ben had finished with Allen Roberts. Now, more than three hours later, this was the first opportunity that had presented itself for him to ask me about her. She had still been engaged in a lethargic wrestling match with her anger when she aimed herself homeward; however, this was far better than the ten round pugilistic event she had exhibited earlier. I had no doubt that what she really needed at this point was a healthy cry and a good night’s sleep. Unless I missed my guess, some portion of that catharsis was probably taking place at this very moment.

“Yeah, we talked about it,” I said, dragging on my coat as we approached the door. “But it’s something I can’t really get into.” I left my comment at that in hopes he wouldn’t force the issue.

When it came to Ben Storm, I should have known better than to rally behind such a hope.

Muteness oozed from my friend to form an expectant bubble of quiet around us for a measured beat. Just as he opened his mouth to pump me for details, the door swung open and a pair of uniformed officers bustled through. Ben exchanged a quick nod with them as they continued past us with a frosty wind trailing along behind. The rush of cold spilled a full twenty feet into the room before the door was once again completely shut. With the darkness of night, the reprieve of sunshine was over and winter’s breath had returned.

“Yeah, uh-huh. So what’s the deal?” he pressed when he felt they were out of earshot, his words forming an ephemeral cloud of white on the lingering chill.

“Seriously, I promised her it would stay between us,” I replied.

“That’s fine. I’m not gonna tell anyone.” He gave me an animated nod. “Now really, what gives?”

“I’m not kidding, Ben. I promised Constance I wouldn’t talk about it.”

“Look, Row…” He paused as he brought his fingers to bear on the tension in his neck, but only after an unconscious smoothing of his hair. “I admire your loyalty, I really do, but for all intents and purposes Mandalay physically attacked a suspect.” The last words of his sentence were enhanced by the fact that they were spoken in an urgent whisper. His eyes quickly darted to reassure himself that we were still out of earshot. “The brass really frowns on that kinda stuff, not ta’ mention what the media could do with it.”

“I know, Ben, but she didn’t actually hurt him, did she?”

“No.”

“Is he going to be pressing charges?”

“No, I don’t think so. Besides it’d be his word against hers, and there wasn’t a mark on ‘im so they’d have a hell of a time makin’ it stick.”

“Okay then,” I shrugged.

“No, not ‘okay then.’” My friend stabbed a finger at me. “She got lucky this time, but that’s not the point. The point is that she attacked a suspect without just cause.”

“I know she was out of line, Ben, but she was provoked,” I appealed. “You saw how Roberts was getting under her skin, and he just kept pushing even after you told him to stop.”

“What? You mean all that lesbo fetish stuff?” His eyes grew wide as he looked back at me, his index finger still hanging in the air between us. “Is Mandalay a lesbian? Is that what this is all about?”

“No, Ben, she’s not gay. Not that I’m aware of anyway. Besides, what difference would that make?”

“None, but what’s goin’ on? I don’t get it.”

“I’m telling you I can’t say.” My voice had taken on the imploring tenor of my emotional appeal. “I made a promise, and if there is one thing a person has in life it’s his or her word. I cannot and will not break my word to her.”

Ben was growing impatient with me. I could not only see it in his eyes but feel it flowing outward from him as well. I truly wanted to explain to my friend what had made Constance snap like she did. Consciously I knew that simply telling him would most likely get this all over with in a heartbeat. That, however, was not the only thing I was conscious of. What resided most in the forefront of my mind was the fact that I could not betray the trust of a friend- even if it was for another.

“Listen,” he sighed heavily then proceeded to detail his case in a stern, clipped voice, “I hafta work with this woman. I may very well hafta count on ‘er ta’ keep me from endin’ up sleepin’ under a rock with my name chiseled on it. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.”

“Now, I respect your standin’ by your promise, and I know it’s somethin’ that’s very important to ya’. I also have a lotta respect for Mandalay. She’s a good kid even if she’s a Feeb. But the bottom line is that I don’t know ‘er well enough ta’ make a judgment call, so right now that respect hasta take a back seat ta’ reason… What I’ve gotta know is if she’s got some kinda problem that’s gonna affect ‘er ability to do ‘er job.”

“I don’t think you have that to worry about, Ben.”

“You ‘don’t think?’” he demanded. “Think isn’t good enough, Rowan. What I saw in that interview room looked like a potential problem ta’ me, and the last thing I need right now is an unstable Fed on this team. You’ve gotta give me somethin’ more than that.”

“What if I tell you it’s a feeling?”

“No.” He shook his head quickly. “No hocus-pocus, Row. I know that Twilight Zone stuff works, but I need somethin’ more on this one. If you know what’s up ya’ need to tell me.”

“If I could tell you what it is, you know I would. I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

“I’m dead serious here, Row. I don’t need ‘er havin’ a meltdown and fuckin’ up this investigation. I haven’t got time for it. Hell, none of us do.”

“She’ll be fine.” I let out my own weighty sigh. “Really. What she needs right now is exactly the same thing we all need-a decent night’s sleep and something to eat besides donuts and bad coffee. That’s all I can say.”

“Yeah… okay…” he finally aquiesced, shaking his head all the while. “But I’ve gotta tell ya’, Row, I’m not feelin’ real good about this at all.”

He continued to work his large hand on the back of his neck as he fell silent. He had made it perfectly clear that he was not at all convinced of Agent Mandalay’s stability. I knew from past experience that his grudging acceptance of my reassurance was going to continue to eat away at him. At the moment it was a prominent, but still small, bother. Very soon it would grow into a malignant vexation that would further poison his perception of the federal officer.

“I know you prefer to shy away from anything you consider touchy-feely, Ben,” I offered, “but, you could call her and ask her yourself, you know.”

“Me ask her what’s up?” he asked rhetorically. “I’m no good at that crap.”

“Well, that’s my only suggestion if you want to know anything more than I’m at liberty to give you.”

After a moment of quiet thought, he took in a deep breath and huffed it out. “So what if I do call ‘er? Is she just pissed or is she gonna cry or somethin’?”

“She might. I don’t know.”

“Jeez, Rowan. I vapor lock when Allison starts ta’ sniffle. I can’t do that cryin’ shit.”

“Ben,” I appealed. “It’s obvious that this is going to keep working on you until you get an answer. You know that I can’t give it to you, but if you talk to her, maybe she will.”

“Ya’think?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” I shook my head. “But it’s worth a try. I’m sure Constance can understand your concerns. She’s just as much a part of the cop fraternity as you are.”