He cocked his head to the side and stared at me. “You’re tellin’ me you’d lie under oath?”
“I’m telling you I was talking to Lisa Carlson when she jumped.”
“They’re gonna ask ya’ how ya’ know it was Lisa Carlson.”
“Doesn’t matter. But it wasn’t that nurse. That’s all I know.”
Ben shook his head. “Jeez, you really are the Lone Fuckin’ Ranger, ya’ know that? I need ta’ get ya’ a box of silver bullets or somethin’.”
I looked down and stared at the bandages that still encircled my right hand where the necklace had blistered my palm. I had already been warned that there would be a significant scar. But that was something I could live with. An innocent woman losing everything because of me, I couldn’t.
I finally broke my silence and said, “That nurse lost her job, and from what I hear, she’s not coping with the psychological effects very well. She definitely doesn’t need to be charged with a crime she didn’t commit on top of all that. Miranda has already screwed up too many lives as it is.”
“Yeah. Speakin’ of the bitch, Constance talked ta’ Jante this mornin’. Devereaux… Well, Miranda…is un-fuckin-controllable. They got ‘er locked down and pumped full of psych meds, not that they’re doin’ any good. From what they’re sayin’, she’s gone completely off the deep end.”
“I’m still alive and I have both of the necklaces. She’s trapped again. Annalise is her only portal into this world at this point. She’s angry.”
“Yeah, well that’s an understatement. Apparently she’s bouncin’ ‘er portal off the walls, the way I hear it.”
“I guess I’m not surprised by that.”
“I still don’t get why she came after ya’ when she did. She took a big chance.”
“I doubt she’d be interested in answering that question.”
“Yeah…I bet you’re right,” he grunted then asked, “Okay, so what about you?”.
“What do you mean, what about me?”
“You copin’ okay?”
“Taking it a day at a time,” I replied. “How about you?”
“Pretty much the same, but then I was on the outside lookin’ in,” he said with a nod. “By the way, your dog tore up another one of my towels. I still say the little shit doesn’t like me.”
“Might be the other way around. Maybe he likes you too much.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right. Well, I’m addin’ it to your tab.”
“I figured you would. How are the cats?”
“Fine,” he replied. “I called that buddy of yours…RJ… He’s watchin’ ‘em.”
“Good.”
As the word faded, a heavy silence rolled in like a swiftly rising tide. I stared at the wall, Ben stared at me, and nothing more was said. Seconds folded into minutes, and eventually my friend cleared his throat.
“Okay, Row,” he said. “Are we done with the bullshit small talk?”
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
“Okay. So what’s up? You’re the one who needed ta’ talk ta’ me right away, remember?”
“Yeah, Ben, I remember.” I took in a deep breath and then exhaled heavily. “I know I already owe you more than I’ll ever be able to repay, but I need to ask a big favor.”
He shook his head and shrugged. “No prob, Kemosabe. Name it.”
“I need you to help me kill Miranda.”
Friday, May 12
4:32 P.M.
I-10 East
23 Miles Outside New Orleans, Louisiana
CHAPTER 37
“Exit’s gonna be comin’ up soon. Looks like we’re gonna be about an hour or so early,” Ben called over his shoulder.
“Good,” I replied.
“I know this is prob’ly a stupid question, but do ya’ still wanna go straight there?”
“You’re right,” I replied. “Stupid question.”
“Uh-huh,” he grunted. “Just figured I should ask anyway.”
We had been on the road since before sunup, and the travel weariness was starting to take hold. My doctor wasn’t happy with me making this trip in the first place, but I told him I would take his opinion under advisement, which lasted about ten seconds. I’d been discharged from the hospital for less than a week, and the standing order was for me to take it easy. Even though Ben was doing all the driving, eleven hours in a vehicle was exhausting in its own way. At least we were in his van, so there was plenty of room to stretch out.
I looked over at Felicity. She was belted into the seat next to me, head resting on a pillow as she stared into nothingness. Occasionally she would blink, and earlier when we had stopped for lunch, she had eaten out of reflex and even changed position of her own accord. But that was it. Nothing more. I reached out and took hold of her hand then simply held it in mine.
My wife’s parents were as dead set against this trip as my doctor. Shamus more so than Maggie, but neither of them was happy about it. So far, they hadn’t given up their attempts to assume legal control of her care, but our attorney had stonewalled them pretty well. Now that I was out of the hospital, they were fighting a losing battle for the most part. And if things worked out as I hoped, an unnecessary one as well.
“How is she doing, Rowan?” Helen Storm asked, turning in the passenger seat to glance back at me.
“The same,” I said.
“What about you?” she asked. The tenor of her voice told me she held even more concern for my personal well-being.
“I’m fine, Helen… I’ll be okay…”
She twisted a bit more to look at Felicity then smiled and turned back around in her seat.
The hospital had recommended an in-home nursing service. Someone to look after my wife until such time as my strength returned, and then they could train me in the finer points of indigent care. They told me I was in denial when I explained that she wouldn’t be in need of it for much longer. Of course, they were always sure to add that if I continued refusing to allow treatment with the anti-psychotic meds, she might never recover at all.
Fortunately, Helen was her doctor of record, and she was no stranger to how things worked in my world. That was why she had come along on this excursion to help with Felicity instead of a stranger who simply wouldn’t understand.
A bright chirrup blipped through the interior of the vehicle, low at first then gaining in volume. Ben dug out his cell phone, glanced at it, flipped it open, and then tucked it up against his ear.
“Yeah, what’s up?” he said. He paused and listened for a second then spoke again. “We’re about twenty minutes out, prob’ly. Depends on traffic. Yeah… Yeah… I’ll tell ‘im… Yeah, I’ll call ya’… Bye.”
He closed the device and dropped it back into the console. “That was Constance,” he said over his shoulder. “Just checkin’ in. Wanted you ta’ know the dogs and cats are fine.”
“That’s great,” I replied then looked back over at Felicity.
Glancing out the windows, I could see that on our left, the choppy waters of Lake Pontchartrain were slipping past. On the right was a marshy landscape of the shoreline. I pressed my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. We continued the rest of the trip in silence, save for Ben’s occasional grumble about other drivers. I ignored him and simply kept holding Felicity’s hand.
Just over two hours later, we were on the deck of a riverboat and pulling away from the dock to head upstream.
We watched the New Orleans skyline slide slowly by as the engines beneath us thrummed and churned the brown waters of the Mississippi, kicking up a foamy wake. Ahead of us, looming in the distance was the Crescent City Connection Bridge, where the Pontchartrain Expressway spanned the muddy river.
“So what now?” Ben asked.
I sighed and looked around. Most of the passengers were inside for the Jazz Dinner Cruise. While there were still a few other tourists on the deck, fortunately we were standing in a pocket of isolation. My guess was that it most likely was a product of the socially repelling effect of a catatonic woman in a wheelchair. I wasn’t happy about that societal norm, but for our purposes it was actually useful. We didn’t really need an audience for what we were about to do.