M Sellars - Miranda

“The thought of being arrested doesn’t concern you at all, does it?”

“Oh, it concerns me,” I said with a nod. “It concerns me quite a bit. But I happen to have a pit bull of an attorney, not to mention two corrections officers and an FBI agent who know exactly what went down in that interview room after my screwup. I’m sure a few procedures and rules were ignored today, and I’m betting that would have some bearing on how things play out for everyone concerned. So, even if I go down, I’ll take you with me.”

“So you’re resorting to blackmail?”

“Just taking a page from your playbook, Doc.”

“All of this posturing is accomplishing nothing,” she admonished.

I agreed. “You’re right. But since it’s mutual, let me see if I can break the cycle.” Turning to Constance I held out my wrists and asked, “You want me like this, or should I put my hands on top of my head, or behind my back, or something like that?”

“Stop it, Rowan…” Constance scolded me under her breath.

“They’ve already patted me down a couple of times today,” I continued. “But if you have to do it again just watch where you grab, if you know what I mean. I’m sure Felicity will understand as long as you’re careful.”

Constance growled at me again, much more audibly this time. “Dammit, Rowan… This isn’t a joke…”

“You should listen to her, Mister Gant,” Doctor Jante snapped. “You don’t seem to be taking this situation very seriously.”

I turned back to her and adopted a deliberate tone. “And that’s where you’re dead wrong. To my knowledge I’m the only damn person in this room with anything really at stake here, so I’m far more serious about this than you even imagine. But, the simple fact is I’ve already been manipulated as much as I’m going to allow, by both you and Miranda. So either have Constance arrest me, or tell me what’s really going on. Your choice.”

She pursed her lips and cocked one eyebrow slightly upward as she studied my face. The silence in the room became so thick that I could easily hear the second hand on the analog desk clock dutifully announcing the precisely measured expiration of time.

Eventually, Doctor Jante forced out a quiet harrumph and then addressed Doctor Clayton. “William, would you give us a few minutes please?”

Though still terse, her tone was noticeably more cordial toward her peer.

“Certainly, Ellie,” he muttered. “I’ll be in my office when you’re finished.” As he turned toward the door he glanced at Constance and me. “Mister Gant, Special Agent Mandalay.”

Jante watched him go then addressed me again. “Before we begin I would like to suggest one more time that you reconsider your wish to have S.A. Mandalay present.”

I snapped back at her. “I thought we’d…”

She cut me off quickly, holding up her hand in a stalling gesture. “I am merely making a suggestion, Mister Gant. But you need to be aware that I am doing so for your sake.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“It simply means that what I am willing to say will be tempered by who is in this room.”

“Sounds to me like someone is covering her ass,” I spat.

She dismissed my comment with a shrug and then made one of her own. “If you really want an answer to your questions…”

With the sentence still hanging in the air, purposely unfinished, I stared back, searching her face for any indication that would tell me if I could push her any further. I saw none.

“It’s up to you, Rowan,” Constance told me. “I can wait outside.”

“Yeah…” I murmured, nodding my head and then raising my voice to a more audible level. “Yeah, I give up. Maybe you’d better.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Constance reached out, lightly squeezed my shoulder and said, “Okay. I’ll be right outside in the hallway.”

Once her fellow agent had exited and the door was shut behind her, Doctor Jante carefully perched herself on the corner of the desk. Looking down, she smoothed her skirt in a deliberate motion, picked off an imaginary piece of lint, and then focused her attention back onto me.

“She’s obviously very fond of you.”

“My wife and I are very fond of her as well,” I replied, a hard edge in my voice. “She’s a good friend to both of us. But you already knew that.”

“I didn’t mean to imply anything else.”

“It makes sense now though,” I mused aloud. “I mean, why you so easily agreed to her escorting me on this trip instead of some other random agent. I actually couldn’t figure out why I even needed an escort up until just now. You knew I’d request Constance, and you think having her here gives you leverage against me if you need it.”

“That sounds rather like paranoia.”

“Is that an official diagnosis or a friendly observation?”

She smirked. “For someone who appeared to be in a state of severe psychological distress during that interview, you seem to be holding your own now, Mister Gant.”

“Trust me, the distress was real.”

“But you’re fine now?”

“I still have a headache from hell,” I replied. “But yeah, I got a second wind.”

“Apparently.”

“Listen Doc, the crazy bitch in the prison khakis already put me in a seriously foul mood, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. And our little skirmish hasn’t exactly helped either, although no offense here, but dealing with you is a friggin’ cakewalk compared to her. But, you said it yourself; all this posturing is getting us nowhere. So, can we just stop circling each other like a couple of rabid dogs and get down to it? Otherwise we’re going to be here forever.”

She sighed heavily. “All right then. First, I need you to understand that what I am going to say to you is completely confidential.”

“I pretty much figured that part out when you started clearing the room,” I replied.

“Should you repeat any of what I tell you, rest assured, I will deny this conversation ever took place.”

“Who’s paranoid now?” I asked.

“Not paranoid, Mister Gant. Careful.”

“Like I said, someone’s covering her ass. Fine. I get it. Confidential. Top secret. Eyes only. This tape will self destruct. Just between you and me… Can we get on with it?”

“Good,” she acknowledged. “In answer to your earlier question, the focus of this case study has always been Annalise Devereaux. However, as of late, you have been under observation as well.”

“Okay. I think I pretty much had that one pegged. Although, the rhetoric sounds generically clinical,” I said.

“It is meant to.”

“I assume ‘as of late’ means this has been going on a little bit longer than just today?”

She nodded as she uttered, “More or less.” Neither her tone, nor her noncommittal words inspired confidence in the ambiguous answer.

“Okay, so the admission was a nice overture to start, but how about telling me something that I haven’t already figured out? Like maybe why I’m being observed? Am I under some kind of super secret criminal investigation or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Not since prior to our meeting in Saint Louis.”

“But before the meeting I was?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied, a slightly confused expression on her face as she shook her head. “Given the circumstances of Devereaux’s crimes and your wife’s apparent connection to them, both of you were the subjects of an investigation. But you already knew that.”

I shook my head and quietly snorted. “Yes, I did. But, something told me that whole meeting with you was a ration of bullshit from the word go.”

“Not entirely. You’d both been cleared prior to that meeting.”