“Look, if you need to go…” I offered, not looking up.
He replied without hesitation. “Like I said, it can wait. Unless, you’re just tryin’ ta’ get me ta’ leave.”
“Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
“Well, shouldn’t you call your sister then?”
“I’m bettin’ she’s already seen the news, Row. She’ll prob’ly call me.”
A faint noise fell in behind his words. Instead of ignoring it, however, this time my attention had been pulled back far enough into the here and now to realize I was hearing a door open behind us as someone entered the office. I turned to glance over my shoulder and saw Special Agent Mandalay coming through the opening.
“Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” Ben asked her as he shot a look her way then did a double take and came up from his seat even as he was turning to fully face her.
“No,” she replied. “I should be right where I am.”
“You positive ‘bout that?”
“The doctor released me hours ago, Ben,” she returned. “Lighten up.”
“So, you get stitches?”
“Twelve,” she said as she reached up and gently touched the gauze bandage taped behind her ear.
“You got a concussion?”
“Mild.”
“‘Kay then, so shouldn’t ya’ be resting or somethin’?”
“I need to stay awake, so I might as well be useful,” she replied. “Besides, I needed to be down here to pull some strings.”
“Yeah, okay,” he conceded. “So how’s that goin’?”
“We may have it worked out,” she told him. “My SAC’s got to file something, there’s no way around that. But, I think I’ve convinced him to just turn me in for a letter of censure for temporarily misplacing my sidearm. If we can do that, and make a few calls to the local authorities regarding the actual assault, Felicity should walk away from this okay as long as nothing else changes.”
Ben gave her a nod and the grim look on his face left me with the impression that they now shared a secret to which I was not going to be made privy. I assumed it had something to do with the letter of reprimand she was inviting upon herself. While my attitude toward the rest of the world still hadn’t changed much, I felt I should at least apologize to her.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “You shouldn’t be taking this on yourself.”
“Don’t be,” she answered with a smile. “It’s okay.”
“But how is this going to affect your career?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Rowan. I’ll be fine. Let’s just worry about you and Felicity right now.”
I didn’t press the subject. There was someone else on my mind whose importance outweighed everyone, including me, and Constance had just uttered her name.
“Have you seen her?” I asked hopefully.
She nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I’m going to take you to see your wife.”
I don’t know how long we stood there in the tight embrace. It could have been a minute; it could have been an hour. It didn’t matter to me if it was forever, as long as I could hold my wife and feel her heart beating, her warm breath against my neck, and even her hot tears dampening my shoulder.
At the moment, life was far from perfect, but it had taken immense strides from where it had been less than a day before.
We had been left alone in the interview room, Ben and Constance excusing themselves, ostensibly to get coffee. However, it was fairly obvious that the ploy was actually to give us a moment or two of privacy, for which I was appreciative. They even managed to get the agent who had been conducting the interview to join them, although I was certain that the door was still being guarded.
“Oh, Caorthann…” Felicity murmured through her quiet sobs as she lifted her head and gazed into my face. Concern welled in her wet eyes as she gently brushed her fingertips against the scabbed over welts along my cheek and whispered, “Gods… What happened?”
“It’s nothing,” I told her.
“Did I do this to you?” she asked.
“No,” I replied. “Someone who was keeping you from me did.”
She dropped her face back against my shoulder and continued to sniffle as more tears made their way onto my shirt.
“It’s okay,” I told her. “I’m here. It’s going to be fine.”
I knew my words had to sound like trite dialogue from a B-movie, but there was nothing else for me to say.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me, then…” she said, the Celtic brogue thick in her voice.
As much as I adored her on again-off again accent, I never could have imagined how hearing it at this moment could make me feel. Even with the heavy emotion threading through her words, its very sound was a calming melody whispering lightly in my ears.
“I know,” I soothed. “I know.”
“Aye,” she said. “I killed him, didn’t I?”
“No,” I told her. “No. He’s alive and he’ll be fine.”
I felt her shudder against me as she released a relieved sigh and tightened her grip.
“You’re certain?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“I thought sure I had killed him then…” she said as she finally loosened her grip on me and pushed back.
She put her hand to her mouth and trembled as she closed her eyes, tears still rolling down her flushed cheeks. She looked far more waiflike than she had hours before. Her face had been scrubbed clean of the makeup, and her pale complexion was blotchy from her continuous weeping. She was wearing a pair of blue jeans that were a half size or so larger than her shape required and over them, a baggy sweatshirt with a faded and peeling college logo silk-screened above the left breast.
Constance had told me on our way down here that she had brought Felicity some clothing from her own wardrobe since what my wife had been wearing when she was taken into custody was being confiscated. I hadn’t been told why they were taking her clothes, but I didn’t really care.
It simply didn’t matter what she was wearing. It was enough for me that she was safe.
Felicity took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I could tell she was trying hard to ground herself. I could also tell she was having very little success. After repeating the breaths several times, she finally opened her eyes and looked up at me.
“Aye, what’s happening to me then, Rowan?” she asked.
“Honey, we can talk about this later,” I replied.
“I need to know,” she came back with a pleading tone in her voice.
I looked at her and let out my own heavy sigh. I didn’t think this was the time or the place, but she deserved to know. After all, it was her to whom it had happened.
“I think you underwent a possession by a Lwa,” I stated.
“A Lwa? Isn’t that a Vodou deity?” she asked, sniffling.
“Yes.”
“But how? Why?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, shaking my head. “I wish I did. All I know is that some form of Voodoo ritual was performed at the murder scene where you showed up yesterday.”
“But… But why would it affect me, then?” she stammered.
“Again, I don’t know,” I said with a note of apology in my voice. “I wish I did… Do you remember anything? Anything at all? Maybe that would help us figure it out.”
She shook her head then hugged herself tightly as she began pacing around the room. “I remember arguing with a police officer about letting me in somewhere… I’m not really sure where, it’s all fuzzy… Then I think I called you on my cell phone… But… But I’m not sure…”
“That would have been the crime scene where the ritual was done,” I acknowledged. “Is that it?”
“Aye,” she said with a nod then stopped pacing and dropped her eyes to the floor. “After that it was as if I was in a dreamless sleep, right up until I awoke in that room with…”
“It’s okay,” I told her as her voice trailed off. “You’ve been through enough.”
“Rowan,” she said, looking up at me with a startled visage. “They took some of my hair. Why?”