Love Is The Bond: A Rowan Gant Investigation (37 page)

Sheriff McCann stalked off toward one of the
unmarked cars in the distance. As he picked up his pace he shouted,
“George! Get me the FBI on the phone. Right now!”

We watched him in relative silence for
several paces then Ben turned his attention back toward Agent Drew.
“Look, I know you got jurisdiction here, but listen to me…”

“Calm down, Storm,” Drew insisted.

“I’ll calm down when I’m damn good ‘n ready
to,” my friend snapped. “But right now you need ta’ listen ta’
me.”

“Agent Drew,” I interjected in a pleading
tone. “This is my wife we’re talking about here.”

“I’m well aware of that, Mister Gant.”

“Goddammit, Skippy…”

Drew held up a finger to cut Ben off and
snarled, “Stop it! Stop it right now. My name is Drew, got it?
Drew, not Skippy. Not Junior. It’s Drew.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Ben brushed him off.

“Dammit, Storm, can you just try cooperating
with someone other than yourself for a change?”

“I try not ta’ cooperate with people I don’t
trust.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to trust
me.”

“That’s gonna be kinda hard.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got faith in you. Now
before you get your shorts any more in a bunch, you need to shut up
and listen to
me
for a minute.
I’m the best friend you’ve got here right now, so just calm down,
back off, and let me handle this.”

Ben shook his head and gave him an
incredulous stare. “Oh yeah? Well, if
you’re
my best friend then I’m seriously
fucked.”

“You won’t get any argument from me there,
Storm, but not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

“Okay, so you wanna explain it to me?”

“What, the fact that I can’t stand you?”

“Feeling’s mutual, but no, Agent Drew.” Ben
stressed his name in a mocking fashion. “I wanna know just how the
hell you figure you’re my best friend?”

“Because I’m getting this wound-up local off
your back, for one.”

“Yeah, well thanks for that,” Ben gave a
shallow nod as he replied, a note of chagrin in his voice. “But,
you still need to let me handle the rest of this.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, and you know
it.”

“This isn’t what you think it is,” I blurted,
unable to contain myself.

Drew turned his attention toward me. “Look,
Mister Gant, I understand your frustration here, but the fact
remains that your wife assaulted a federal officer and fled with
her sidearm.”

“It’s not what you think,” I appealed.

“Mister Gant, listen to me,” he said with a
sigh. “Believe it or not, I’m on your side here. I’m trying to
help.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Ben interjected.

“That doesn’t sound like it’s all that
tough,” Drew chided.

“Uh-huh,” my friend grunted. “So, how is it
you’re bein’ so helpful then?”

“By defusing the situation, hopefully.”

“Okay, so why?” Ben pressed.

“Mandalay called Simpson, and then me
personally,” he replied. “She wants Miz O’Brien out of this
situation safely, just as much as either of you. And, don’t ask me
why, but she wants to see if this can be made to go away.”

“You mean…”

Drew nodded. “Yeah, she’s got a little pull,
so if no one gets hurt then maybe there can be a deal.”

Any elation I might have felt because of the
news was immediately doused by the memory of my wife’s pained voice
saying, “I think I killed him.”

I tried my best to force the thought from my
head and moved forward with a question. “Did she tell you about
her…”

“Being possessed?” he finished for me,
raising his eyebrows questioningly. “Yeah, she did, and honestly, I
think that it’s a crock of shit.”

“But…”

He held up a hand to stop me. “Hold on. I
said I think it’s a crock, but that isn’t going to affect the
situation. Not only does Agent Mandalay want to see this resolved
peacefully, so does the Bureau.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“I know I haven’t made a friend of you,
Mister Gant, and honestly, I don’t really care if I ever do,” he
said with a shrug. “But, yes, I would rather not see your wife get
hurt, or anyone else for that matter.”

Ackman had remained quiet for the duration
but now broke his self-imposed silence. “Okay, so, what is your
plan?”

Drew shot him a glance. “Once I get this
local asshole to back off, the three of us are going to see if we
can get Miz O’Brien to come out and surrender.”

“Four,” I insisted.

“No sir,” Drew replied. “Three. You’re
staying out here behind the line.”

“He’s right, Row,” Ben agreed.

“Felicity is…”

“Felicity is gonna be fine,” he snapped.
“And, you’re gonna do what you’re told for a change.”

“Dammit, Ben,” I objected.

“Damn me all ya’ want,” he said with a shake
of his head. “You’re stayin’ out here, Row.”

I cast a glance past him toward the motel
room door. My eyes searched the expanse of parking lot as I tried
to estimate the distance between us and number seven. All the while
my brain was calculating exactly what it was going to take for me
to get there without being stopped instantly. The one thing I
forgot, however, was my poker face. Apparently, I was broadcasting
my intentions like a high wattage transmitter because a large hand
suddenly clamped onto my shoulder and held fast.

“Don’t even think about it, white man,” Ben
told me as he leveled a deadly serious gaze on my face.

“What?” I asked, trying unsuccessfully to
feign ignorance.

“Yeah, right,” he grunted but didn’t let
go.

During the thread of conversations, I had
dropped my hand to my side and with it the cell phone. The fact
that Felicity was still holding on now skittered back through my
thoughts. I lifted the cell and placed it against my ear.

“Felicity?”

“Y-y-yes?” her halting voice issued from the
small speaker. “Where are you?”

Her sobbing had lessened greatly, but I could
still detect her whimpering as she waited for my response. It was
killing me to hear her like this. She had always been so steadfast
in the face of almost anything. For her to now sound like a
terrified child was just too much for me to bear.

“It’s almost over, honey,” I told her, hoping
that I could mask my own lack of conviction.

“I’m scared,
Caorthann
…” she whined. “I don’t know what’s
happening to me…”

“I know,” I soothed. “It’s going to be okay.
Trust me.”

“Is that your wife?” Drew asked, pointing
toward the phone in my hand.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Let me talk to her,” he replied, motioning
for me to hand the device over.

“She’s in no condition to carry on a
conversation with you right now, Agent Drew,” I declared, twisting
the mouthpiece away.

“Just what is her situation then?” he
asked.

“She’s frightened,” I replied.

“She should be,” he asserted. “What about the
man she left the club with?”

“How’d you know about him?” Ben asked.

“News travels fast,” he replied.

“So, is that how you knew where this was
goin’ down so quick?”

“We’ve been paying attention,” Drew replied
with a nod to the affirmative. “Besides, one of our agents was
assaulted, and like I said, we have jurisdiction. You didn’t really
think the Bureau was going to leave this up to the locals, did
you?”

“Looks like you let us do most of the
legwork.”

“Of course. It was the most efficient way to
handle the situation.”

“Fuckin’ Feebs,” Ben muttered, just loud
enough for him to hear.

Without missing a beat, Drew replied,
“Fuckin’ cops,” then turned his attention back to me. “What about
Mister Lewis? It would be a really good thing if you could tell me
that she is not holding him hostage.”

I didn’t reply. I wasn’t entirely sure what
to say.

“Mister Gant?” Drew pressed.

Ben reached up and started working the
muscles on the back of his neck as he announced, “Look, the thing
is we don’t know his condition for sure.”

“Condition?”

“Dammit,” my friend muttered then looked up
to the FBI agent and blurted, “Look, we haven’t told anyone this
yet, so don’t go off half-cocked… Felicity told Rowan she thinks
he’s dead.”

Drew looked at the ground and shook his head
then cast a glance at the other officers on the scene. Looking back
up at us, he gave Ben a nod. “Probably good you kept that to
yourself, considering… So… Did she use Agent Mandalay’s
weapon?”

“We don’t know,” Ben replied. “Truth is
we don’t even know if he’s really dead. Remember, she said
she
thinks
he’s
dead.”

“But if she shot him,” Drew offered, leaving
the conclusion unspoken.

“Like I said, we don’t know.”

“Then what makes her think he’s dead?”

“Don’t know.”

“Have you asked her?”

“No. She’s been a bit hysterical,” I offered
before Ben could answer.

He thrust his chin toward the phone. “Then
ask her.”

“I don’t think…” I started.

“Mister Gant, please ask her. Trust me. I’m
just trying to help.”

I sighed heavily then twisted the phone back
to my mouth. “Felicity?”

“Y-y-yes…”

“I need to ask you a question, sweetheart,” I
said, continuing my prolific use of endearments as a tool to keep
her connected with me.

“I-I… I thought you were here…” she murmured.
“Where are you?”

“I am, honey. Now I need you to answer
something for me.”

“W-w-what?”

“The man in the room…”

The moment I said the words, her whimpering
increased, and I could hear her breathing become more rapid.

“Honey… Calm down…” I tried to soothe her. “I
just need you to tell me something.”

“W-w-what?” she whined.

I closed my eyes and tried to ground the
sudden panic that was welling up from my stomach, but I knew that
it was no use. My wife’s emotional pain was now expanding beyond
the bounds of the room, and I was caught up in its wake. After a
long pause, I sighed and mumbled, “Nothing. Nothing. Just stay
where you are right now.”

“W-w-why? I thought you were here… Where are
you?”

“I am, honey, I am… Just hold on. I’ll see
you soon.”

“Mister Gant…” Drew began.

“Forget it,” I returned with a hard shake of
my head. “I’m not going to ask her. She’s distraught and confused
enough as it is. I know you don’t believe what’s happened, but I
do, and I’m telling you she can’t answer this question right
now.”

He stared back at me with a grim frown
slashed across the lower half of his face. I was fully expecting
him to launch into an authoritative diatribe telling me to ask her
or else, but after a moment he simply nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “I understand. Let me ask
you this. Do you think she will come out and surrender?”

“Probably,” I said with a nod of my head.
“But I’m not going to ask her to do that with all this firepower
pointed at her.”

“I’m working on that,” he replied.

“Yeah, and it looks like you won that round,”
Ben announced.

“What?”

My friend nodded past him and he turned. I
was already looking in that direction but only now took notice that
some of the cars on the parking lot were beginning to move. As I
watched, it didn’t escape my attention that while there were still
flak-vested officers running about, the bulk of their activity
involved stowing weaponry and backing off.

Arthur McCann was stomping toward us with an
angry gait, his form silhouetted off and on by the flash of
headlights and light bars as vehicles whipped around one another.
We stood waiting for him until he came to a halt in front of us and
planted his hands on his hips once again.

“Okay, Agent Drew, the scene is apparently
yours,” McCann spat.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Drew replied. “I
appreciate your cooperation.”

“Yes, well I seriously doubt that you’re
going to appreciate this,” he shot back. “Your SAC agreed with me
that Mister Gant is to be removed from the scene immediately.”

“Okay,” Drew said with a nod. “That’s
fine.”

McCann fell speechless for a moment as he
stared at him, obviously taken aback by the young man’s unfettered
agreement.

“Good,” he finally said.

“Anything else?” Drew asked.

“Not that would interest you,” the sheriff
replied then turned his attention to Ben. “But, you might want to
know, Detective Storm, that I’ve filed a formal complaint against
you with both the Major Case Squad commander and Saint Louis City
Homicide.”

Ben glared back at him and shook his head as
he replied, “Join the fuckin’ club, McCann. Join the fuckin’
club.”

* * * * *

“Honey, I’m going to hand the phone over to
Ben,” I said, speaking up to be heard over the thudding echoes of
the news helicopters above. They were hovering far closer than I
would have liked, but there was little I could do about it other
than try to ignore them.

“Okay,” Felicity whimpered in return, her
voice barely audible.

The contingent of officers had dutifully
backed off as they had been ordered, but the tension among their
ranks was still running at full bore. The fact that in a handful of
heartbeats I was going to be sent back to mill about among them did
little to allay my own anxiety.

“I love you,” I said then listened to her
faint response before I pulled the cell away from my ear.

I stood there staring at the device for a
long moment before hesitantly holding it out toward Ben. I couldn’t
help but see what I was doing as surrendering my only physically
tangible connection to my wife. In a very real sense, it made me
feel as though I was abandoning her.