“Yeah, well you’re bein’ a tool,” he grunted then his tone turned serious. “But yeah, in a way you’re definitely an investigative resource. But you can leave out the ‘nothing more than’ bullshit. First and foremost you’re my friend, Row, and this ain’t all about the case. I really am worried about you’n Firehair bein’ safe.”
His sentiment was obviously unfeigned, and the emphasis he placed on the word safe was so clear that I truly felt bad for having put him on the spot.
“Sorry,” I apologized, a bit of embarrassment creeping into my voice. “I’m just a little touchy about all this right now.”
“No shit,” he returned, an obvious gloss of sarcasm on the words. “I couldn’t tell.”
“Well, in my defense this isn’t exactly easy. Just because I’m quitting doesn’t mean they are.”
“Pretty rough, huh?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain, Ben. But, remember how you felt when you quit smoking cigarettes?”
“Yeah. Hell, I had the shakes and everything. It sucked big time. That what this is like?”
“Kind of. But multiply it by about ten, and then imagine someone constantly trying to force you to smoke, and you really want to, but can’t. That’s pretty much how I’m feeling right now.”
“So the Twilight Zone is really fuckin’ with ya’ big time, eh?”
“Yeah. A bit of an understatement, but yeah, that’s about the best way I can explain it.”
“So you’re goin’ through all that, and you’re still sittin’ there tellin’ me you’re okay,” he admonished.
“I am,” I replied. “It’s just something I have to deal with. Sure, it would probably be easier to just let it happen and be done with it, but I can’t do that.”
“Yeah, I guess Firehair would have your ass, wouldn’t she?”
“Surprisingly, no. She actually suggested I go ahead and give in.”
“Do what? Felicity? Are we talkin’ about the same person?”
“Yeah, Ben, I know. After yesterday she thinks maybe it’s worse on me when I fight it.”
“Worse? Jeezus H. Christ, Row… You sure you don’t wanna just tell me what happened?”
“Maybe some other time, Ben.”
“Okay, so then tell me this: If Firehair is okay with you goin’ to the Twilight Zone, why are ya’ puttin’ yourself through the bullshit?”
“The way I feel right now, I’m starting to wonder that myself. If I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, okay. Well, I guess if ya’ ain’t gonna give me details then I’m gonna hafta take your word for it.”
“Pretty much,” I agreed.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No. Just sit tight and we’ll see what happens.”
“You realize I’m not so good at that, right? The just sittin’ by part, I mean.”
“Yeah, I know, but that’s about all we can do right now. So anyway, can we maybe change the subject? Constantly talking about it really isn’t helping, you know. It’s kind of like offering me a cigarette.”
“Yeah…yeah, no problem… Actually, I did have another reason for callin’. I got that info you wanted on Devereaux’s attorney.”
“Great. I was afraid you might have forgotten about that.”
“Didn’t forget, but it wasn’t exactly high on the priority list until about half an hour ago.”
“Half an hour ago? Why?”
“‘Cause that’s about when a process server showed up downstairs with a subpoena for me from Devereaux’s mouthpiece. Kinda brought it back around, ya’know.”
“Subpoena? For what?’
“Deposition,” he grunted. “They wanna grill me for a while. The bottom-feeders do this crap all the time. Tryin’ ta’ find somethin’ they can twist and use to get their client off. Technicality, or whatever… It ain’t unusual. But, I should warn ya’…they’re prob’ly gonna ask me about Firehair and the whole thing at that motel with Lewis.”
“Great.”
“Just thought you should know. But I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“It’s kind of hard not to.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m tellin’ ya’ don’t. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but I’m still sorry you’re getting sucked into it.”
“Like I said, I’m used to this shit,” he replied with an audible shrug in his voice. “Besides, I worked the case. I was gonna get subpoenaed anyway. I’m just surprised it came today.”
“Why’s that?”
“It ain’t my day off.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“It’s a cop thing, don’t worry about it.”
Obviously there was a hidden meaning in the comment, but I didn’t press him for an explanation. His call actually wasn’t the first I’d received this morning, and a quick glance at the clock in the corner of my computer screen reminded me that I had someplace to be in less than an hour. I simply jotted down the information he had for me then rushed off the phone.
Whether I felt up to it or not, I really needed to make it to this particular meeting. However, it had become apparent over the course of the past several minutes that I was going to need a handful of aspirin deposited into my system before I did anything else.
CHAPTER 9:
“Thanks for meeting me here, Maggie,” I said to the woman on the opposite side of the cafe table. “I know it’s been a pain trying to get our schedules to jive, so I really appreciate you calling this morning.”
“It’s no trouble, Rowan,” my mother-in-law replied as she glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry I can only spare a few minutes. I do need to be home soon.”
Maggie O’Brien was petite in stature, just like her daughter. Of course, as was to be expected, there were also several other resemblances between them; therefore, even with a cursory glance there was definitely no denying their familial connection-it was just that obvious. The ever-present Celtic lilt in her voice simply cemented that observation on the audible level. However, within a scant few minutes of conversation, it was easy to see that my wife’s penchant for Gaelic curses must have come from her father’s side and not her mother’s.
These days Maggie’s shag of hair was more along the line of grey highlighted with chestnut, rather than the other way around, as it had been when I first met her quite some time ago. But other than that, she still maintained a far more youthful appearance than her actual years, and almost anyone would be hard pressed to pinpoint her true age simply by looking at her.
“I understand,” I said with a nod. “But I promise this shouldn’t take long.”
“I must admit, you’ve sounded rather urgent on the phone when we’ve been trying to schedule this, so my curiosity has been piqued.”
“I suppose I do owe you an apology for that. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t. Obviously it is something important. But I am wondering about why you insisted on speaking with me privately.”
I glanced around. We were sitting in the back corner of a coffee house, and while they weren’t terribly busy at the moment, that could easily change. For now, however, there were only a few patrons besides us. If I had to guess I would say they were all most likely students from the nearby university. Of course, that assumption was a no-brainer given the proximity of the college. That, and the book bags and notebook computers propped on their tables. Complimentary wi-fi internet access was one of the advertised features of this particular shop, and from the looks of things it was definitely being used.
But, the truth is they didn’t really matter. They were strangers. The people I didn’t want hearing this conversation weren’t. They were family.
“Well, I wouldn’t say private, exactly,” I returned with a shrug. “Maybe just somewhat confidential.”
Even though I had been trying to set up this face-to-face with her for better than two months, I was finding it hard to get the ball rolling. Now that the opportunity was finally here, I had to take advantage of it and I knew that-even though my head still hadn’t stopped pounding and a phantom pain was once again setting up shop in my neck.