M Sellars - Miranda

Ben shook his head. “I’m kinda used to it by now, Row.”

“Yeah, I guess you would be, wouldn’t you?”

“You feelin’ better?” he asked.

“Not really,” I told him. “But I’ve got it under control.”

We were still outside, although Felicity and I had moved out of the center of the parking lot and joined our friend up on the sidewalk near his van. The fissure at the bottom of my stomach had been continuing to grow and like an aggressive cancer was even now spreading to the rest of my body. Emptiness welled in my chest, sending its painful hollowness radiating outward. Intellectually, I knew my wife was correct in her belief that we needed to meet the threat head on. Emotionally, however, I was a half step away from being a basket case. At the moment, I just happened to be hiding it fairly well, or so I thought.

Ben gave me a once over and grunted sarcastically, “You’ve got it under control? Yeah. Right.”

“Seriously.”

“No offense, white man, but I think I need a second opinion,” he said and then turned his attention to Felicity. “Whaddaya think, Firehair, he gonna be okay?”

“He’ll be fine then.”

“You sure about that?”

“Aye.”

“Okay, if you say so.” He shook his head and sighed before admitting, “I just dunno, man. Now I’m actually feelin’ kinda guilty about pushin’ you two into this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied then glanced at Felicity. “You had help.”

“Yeah, so?” he grunted. “That somehow s’posed ta’ make me feel okay about it?”

“It doesn’t really matter, Ben. You know that eventually I would have ended up in the middle of it anyway, no matter how much I objected.”

He nodded. “Yeah, prob’ly.”

A thick pause fell between the three of us. I could tell Ben was thinking about something, so I was expecting him to start massaging his own neck at any moment.

“So…” I spoke after several heartbeats. “How bad did I screw things up with Doctor Kingston?”

Ben grunted out a relieved half chuckle. “Believe it or not, ya’ didn’t. Apparently she’s heard enough stories about ya’ through the grapevine ta’ think this is just normal for you.”

“Terrific,” I said with a thin grimace. “Not exactly the reputation I was trying to foster.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it could be worse.”

“I suppose you’re right about that.”

Ben fell quiet again then looked at the ground and reached up to smooth back his hair, just as I’d expected. Allowing his hand to slide downward it came to rest on the back of his neck, and he began working his fingers against it in a slow massage.

“What is it, Ben?” I asked.

“That obvious?”

“It always is.”

“Yeah, great… So listen, I got a call from Constance while you two were over there talkin’.”

“Something wrong?”

“Depends on how ya’ look at it, I guess,” he replied, allowing his hand to drop back to his side. “Apparently she got a call from someone at the prison down in Texas this mornin’. Seems Miranda had a message for ya’.”

“Gods, Ben, not another victim already…” I sighed.

“Not yet,” he told me. “This one was a question, and it’s strictly verbal.”

“Well at least there’s that.” I drew in a deep breath and gave him a nod. “Go ahead. What’s she want?”

“She wanted ta’ know if you were ‘enjoyin’ your quiet time.’”

“Not as much as I thought I would.”

“Yeah…I figured that’d be the answer… So you ready ta’ go back in? The doc’s waitin’…”

As autopsy suites go, this one didn’t seem all that different from any other I’d been in over the years. A quick glance around showed me that it was laid out a bit differently, but then that was to be expected. They all were. In the end, it was still a cold room with a tiled floor, tiled walls, and an overabundance of stainless steel making up the decor. The centerpiece of it all was, of course, the pedestal table with a built-in sink at the end.

“Will this suffice?” Doctor Kingston asked, sweeping her arm around the room.

“I don’t see why not,” I said with a shrug. “All we really need is privacy. And hopefully this won’t take long.”

It struck me as odd how open and receptive Doctor Kingston seemed regarding this entire exercise. I certainly didn’t get the impression that she was ready to embrace it as science, but one could tell simply by her tone and actions that her curiosity was more than just a little piqued by it all. Even after my momentary lapse, her inquisitiveness showed little sign of tapering off. If anything, it was becoming more intense.

“Privacy isn’t a problem,” she replied. “Now, before I bring in the body, just so I understand, how is it you’re going to go about doing this?”

“Nothing radical. It usually involves close proximity to the deceased-and maybe limited physical contact, though not always.” I shrugged. “After that it pretty much either happens or it doesn’t.”

“That’s it?” she replied. “You don’t need to burn any incense or light candles or draw pentagrams on the floor or anything like that?”

“Is that one of those stories you heard?”

“No, actually.”

I cast her a skewed glance for a moment then pressed, “Okay…then I have to ask. Cable psuedo-documentary or a bad horror movie?”

She cracked a lopsided smile. “A little of both, I guess. And a lot of reading.”

“Well, there won’t be any of that nonsense, so you don’t have to worry there,” I replied. “At most we might walk in a circle initially while invoking protection, and we usually have salt on hand…” As I allowed my voice to fade, I glanced over at Felicity. “But in all honesty, that’s not really for me to say. I guess that’s actually your call this time, hon. This one is really your show, not mine.”

“Aye, I suppose it is then,” my wife replied.

Doctor Kingston shot me a confused look. “I was always under the impression you were the one who did this, Mister Gant.”

“Usually, I am,” I replied. “However, there are some extenuating circumstances in this case.”

“Anything I should know?”

“Not really,” I told her, shaking my head. “But, don’t worry. Felicity is a Witch too.”

“That’s fine,” she said.

Felicity chimed in. “Like Rowan was saying, there’s no need for theatrics. I have some salt for protection. Other than maybe sprinkling a bit of it on your floor, we shouldn’t be leaving a mess.”

“Okay then,” the doctor said. “Sounds reasonable. Just one last question…” Her voice was tempered with something that oddly enough sounded like a note of excitement. “Would it affect you adversely if I turned on the recorders in here?”

Since I couldn’t be absolutely certain what it was I had detected in her tone, plus given the earlier questions about risk, I cocked my head and gave her a questioning stare. “C.Y.A., Doctor Kingston?”

“No, actually,” she replied. “Personal research.”

“Research?” Felicity asked.

“Yes. Just something for my own edification.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So apparently you don’t think we’re insane like most everyone else does.”

She shook her head and chuckled, “Well, you might be for all I know. But you certainly have a reputation among law enforcement.”

“Yes, unfortunately,” I replied.

“I suppose that came out wrong. I’m actually talking about the good reputation,” she explained. “Besides, I have an admission to make. I’ve always had a bit of a fascination with the occult.”

“Which would explain the reading you mentioned earlier,” I said.