“What’s wrong?!” I asked, continuing toward her.
“She called,” she replied, her eyes wide and face even paler than usual.
“Devereaux?” Ben asked.
“Aye,” she replied. “Just now.”
“You talked to her?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. She called my business line, and I just let the answering machine pick it up.”
“Did you save the message?” Ben pressed.
“I was sitting there when she called. I haven’t played it back yet.”
My friend pressed past us and headed downward. We followed only a step or two behind. Hitting the bottom of the stairs, we veered immediately left, past Felicity’s darkroom, and then hooked around the corner into her actual office. The answering machine was perched on the corner of her desk, where it always sat, and the message light was winking on and off, demanding attention.
Ben reached over and pressed the play button. The device was digital, so it instantly chirped and an electronic voice announced, “You have one new message. Received… December four…teenth… at… nine thir… ty-two P. M…”
The machine-generated voice was then replaced by the hiss of telephone static and the sound of a single, heavily exhaled breath. On the heels of the sigh, a sweet, Southern-accented voice issued from the speaker.
“Hello, Felicity,” it said. “I’m so sorry I missed you. I was just calling to see if you enjoyed the gift. You know, mat was just dying to be under them.” The voice snickered as if amused at the sick joke. A second later it continued, a stern tone affecting its cadence, “He never should have called me by your name. But, I don’t guess we need to worry about him making that mistake again, do we?”
There was a thick pause, and we could hear her breathing, then Annalise spoke again, her words harsh and demanding, “It isn’t yours, chienne! It belongs to me, and I won’t let her give it to you!”
With that, the line clicked and went dead, only to be replaced a moment later by an electro-mechanical announcement saying, “End new messages.”
We all stared at the machine for what seemed like a full minute, none of us saying a word. Finally, Ben sighed then reached up to massage the back of his neck.
Leveling his gaze on my wife, he said, “Wanna reconsider your decision ta’ stay here now?”
CHAPTER 34:
“It would appear the call originated from a payphone at a gas station in Northwest County,” Special Agent Constance Mandalay said, folding her cell and slipping it into her pocket for what seemed like the hundredth time since she arrived. “The local cops checked it out, but the attendant doesn’t remember seeing anyone use it, much less anyone who fit Devereaux’s description.”
“Yeah, figures,” Ben grunted.
Almost two hours had passed since the call from Annalise. The clock was just starting its uphill climb toward midnight, but none of us were particularly interested in sleeping at the moment. None of us except Felicity, that is, who was lying down in the bedroom. I suspected, however, she was really doing more hiding from reality than actual resting.
Ben had called Constance after we listened to the recording a second time, since at this point, the FBI was just as deeply involved in this investigation as the Major Case Squad, if not more so. She had arrived shortly thereafter, but until now any conversation with her had been sparse since she was spending the majority of her time on her cell phone conferring with other agents and law enforcement personnel.
“That’s always the way,” Constance replied. “To be on the safe side, we put a tap on all your phone lines just in case she calls again.”
“She will,” I offered. “She’ll keep trying until she gets Felicity on the line.”
“That’s typical,” she agreed. “I just didn’t want to say it.”
“You know you don’t have to pull any punches with me, Constance.”
“You’re right,” she replied with a shallow nod. “Force of habit. Put the victim at ease.”
“I don’t think there is going to be any ease around here until this is over, but thanks for trying.”
She smiled briefly before slipping back into her serious facade. “So, obviously we expect her to call again. The real question is when.”
“I don’t think we’ll have to wait long. Honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t tried again already.”
“Well, a delay is typical too,” she told me. “Stalkers use it to instill fear in their victims. They draw their power from terrorizing their chosen subject, and the waiting game tends to be very effective where that is concerned.”
“I know, but Annalise isn’t your average stalker.”
“None of them ever are, Rowan,” she said with a nod. “But, what she has done so far fits the basic profile.”
“So far,” I said. “But, I’m sure that will change. Soon.”
“One of your feelings?” she asked, no skepticism in her voice whatsoever. She was among the few who had come to readily accept without question the intangible evidences provided by my curse.
“That, and something she said,” I replied with a shrug. “Her last comment was ‘I won’t let her give it to you.’”
“The ‘it’ being the sexual gratification you’ve mentioned before, I assume?”
“That would be my theory. I’m certain she’s livid about Miranda using Felicity as a horse. But, projecting the anger at a Lwa isn’t going to help. For example, it would be no different than a Christian taking God to task for not giving them the new car they prayed for… Or me blaming the universe for not winning the lottery just because I did a money spell… That’s certainly not going to get a positive result. Negativity begets negativity.
“So, for Annalise to vent her anger at Miranda will only further deny her the gratification. In the end it’s really a simple matter of transference. Felicity becomes the object of her disdain because she views her as a rival for that which she desires.”
“I don’t understand. How is Felicity a rival?” she asked. “Ben said you’d done away with the connection that allowed all this to happen.”
“I did. But, I believe Miranda brought Annalise back here in order to re-establish that connection somehow. The how, I haven’t yet figured out, but she may have already done it. I’m hoping not, but I can’t really be sure. Either way, Annalise almost certainly knows exactly what Miranda wants, but she isn’t about to let it happen if she can help it. And, the only way for her to accomplish that is to remove Felicity from the picture entirely.”
“Okay, so that’s her motivation,” Constance replied. “I suppose you believe that is what’s driving the escalation as well?”
“Partly. But mainly I think it’s frustration,” I said with a nod. “To put it bluntly, I don’t think she’s getting any, so to speak. Of her most recent two murders, neither has been for the sexual gratification like those prior. One appeared to be for the express purpose of working a cross against me, since I am seen as another of her obstacles. Then, the Lewis homicide was purely out of blind anger.”
“He should never have called me by your name,” she repeated Annalise’s words from the tape with an understanding nod.
“Which explains the tongue,” Ben added.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Blatant symbolism is common in hoodoo, and most any other magick, so it would definitely fit the way she thinks.”
Ben thrust his chin toward Constance with a quick nod. “Speakin’ of the Lewis homicide, did you check it out?”
“Not personally,” she replied, shaking her head. “But we had a team there. From what I hear, apparently they just missed you and Rowan.”
“Yeah, well we were just passin’ through.”
“I heard,” she replied then raised her eyebrow and took on a concerned tone. “You know, Ben, you’re probably going to get yourself suspended for taking Rowan there.”
“That’s the plan.”
She sighed. “And you worry about me getting into trouble.”
“Yeah, well, that’s life. So… Your guys find anything we missed?”
She shook her head again. “Not that I’ve heard. They’re still going over everything, but she didn’t seem to leave anything that will help track her down.”