My anger really hadn’t had time to drop off, and it immediately welled in me once again. I twisted back in a flash, snatching the handset up and placing it to my ear as I shouted, “What?! Did you think of some other curse to throw at me?!”
There was a hollow buzz but no reply came from the other end. I couldn’t imagine that Shamus would be shut down by the comment, so I allowed my gaze to fall down to the caller ID box. I didn’t get a chance to offer up an apology right away as a confused voice finally broke the relative silence.
“Rowan?” Jackie asked.
“Yeah, sorry,” I returned. “I just got off the phone with… Screwit…Never mind, what’s going on? Were you able to get her out?”
“She’s still in processing,” she replied. “They’re almost done, and then I’ll be able to get into a room with her.”
“She’s not coming home tonight, is she?”
“No, Rowan, she isn’t. She’s likely not coming home this weekend at all.”
My voice dropped almost to a mumble as I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, “Dammit, Jackie…”
“I told you to prepare yourself for this.”
“I know.”
“Look, I called for a couple of reasons. First, to give you an update, and second, to ask a couple of questions.”
“About what?”
“I called in a favor and managed to get a little bit of information about what’s going on. It’s not much, but it’s a place to start. So, what I need to know is if Felicity does any traveling alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like for her job. Does she ever go out of town without you?”
“Well, yeah. She’s one of the top freelance photographers in the country. She gets jobs all over the country. Why?”
She pressed on, ignoring my query. “Has she ever been to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina that you know of?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she has,” I replied impatiently then demanded again, “Why?”
“Without you?”
“Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“Specifically, about a year ago, maybe? Somewhere around the beginning of December?”
“Yeah. I don’t remember for sure, but yeah, I think she took a trip around then, so could be.” My edginess ratcheted up the scale and I took on a harsh tone. “Jackie, just what the hell is this…”
I stopped cold with my mouth hanging wide open. Before I could even consider finishing my sentence, the conversation with Doctor Rieth’s assistant flashed through my brain. Two and two joined forces to create four, and that became the sum of all my fears, which then punched me square between the eyes.
“Rowan?” Jackie queried. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah,” I finally replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Listen, the information I obtained could be wrong, but the rumor is the police have hard evidence placing Felicity at the scene of a somewhat bizarre homicide in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina that happened in December of last year.”
“What evidence?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t know that yet,” she replied.
The dull ache at the back of my head was now returning in force. It wasn’t going to take long for it to fill my skull and make itself right at home for the duration. I closed my eyes once again and sighed.
“Well, they’re right about one thing,” I offered flatly. “The same woman committed that murder as did the two homicides in Saint Louis. But, Felicity is NOT that woman.”
“I believe you, Rowan,” Jackie replied. “But you need to understand that I’m not the one we need to convince of that fact.”
CHAPTER 9:
“I thought I told you to wait at home?” Jackie said, glaring at me with the best stoic attorney face she could muster plastered across her features.
“I got lonely,” I replied.
“Don’t be a smartass, Rowan,” she snapped. “I’ve got my hands full here, so I really don’t need to be babysitting you.”
“I don’t recall asking you to.”
“Let me refresh your memory,” she snapped. “You asked by showing up here.”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me.”
“How can I not? I just had a detective drag me out of the middle of an interview with your wife.”
“Then you should go yell at him.”
We were standing in the lobby of police headquarters at the corner of Clark and Tucker in downtown Saint Louis. I’d been here more times than I cared to count, but usually I was escorted straight in by Ben and at times, even treated like just another one of the cops. This afternoon, however, was vastly different. I had been detained here at the main entrance, and Jackie had been brought out to see me. It was immediately obvious that she wasn’t thrilled about it. Of course, she also hadn’t been aware that I was on my way here, and I had purposely neglected to mention it before hanging up the phone earlier.
“Right now I’d rather tell him to just shoot you,” she hissed, still trying to keep her voice low. At the tail end of the comment, she let out a heavy sigh and shook her head in exasperation.
“From the reception I got, I’m guessing you wouldn’t have a problem getting him to take you up on the idea,” I replied.
“What did you expect, Rowan, a marching band and a parade? You’re the husband of a murder suspect who is currently detained in this building, and you come blazing in here like everyone is supposed to clear a path for you. Wake up, will you?!”
Jackie was in her mid-fifties but looked more like she was hovering somewhere in her forties, even when sporting the flat expression. She was the sole attorney in a wildly successful one-woman shop bearing her name, although she did have a small support staff consisting of a paralegal and a part-time receptionist.
I’d heard rumors that she’d been offered partnerships in some rather prestigious local firms more than once but always declined in favor of the autonomy that allowed complete control over her caseload. I wasn’t at all surprised, because she wasn’t one for taking direction. Giving it, yes. Taking it, definitely not.
“Hey, I’m trying to help here,” I appealed, attempting to change my approach, though in a halfhearted sense.
“Well, you definitely aren’t. Helping, that is.”
My bid at toning down my temper didn’t last, and I snarled my reply. “Yeah, well you don’t appear to be helping all that much either.”
She tossed back a shock of platinum blonde hair and fixed me with her hard gaze once again. Physically, she was really closer to Felicity’s height than mine, but wearing her ever-present designer heels, she came right to eye level with me. The stature elevating shoes along with her reputation for relentlessly tearing apart cases-and even other attorneys if necessary-until she came out on top are what had garnered her the nickname “the pit bull in high heels.” She would instantly feign annoyance anytime she heard someone call her by the moniker, but secretly, I think she actually liked it.
After a pause she punctuated her cold stare with a calm but brutally caustic reply, “That’s because I’m out here dealing with an asshole instead of being allowed to do my job.”
“Listen, I…”
She cut me off before I could finish. “No. Just shut up and YOU listen for once. If that last comment had come out of any other client’s mouth, I would have packed my briefcase and headed home. But, I’ve known you way too long, and I know that you’re actually a pretty nice guy. I’m writing this all off to the stress you are under, but believe me, I’m only going to write off just so much.
“Besides, the reality of the situation is that I’m representing your wife right now, not you. So, I suggest you count yourself as damned lucky I’m still standing here.”