“Yeah. Three times last night.”

“And, how did you feel?”

“Scared.”

“Yes, but what about the other issue. The one involving your wife.”

“It’s a non-issue.”

“Good. Your faith in Felicity is going to be monumentally important in the coming days, Rowan.”

“Yeah,” I grunted. “Tell me about it.”

I happened to look up toward the stairs as I made the comment and noticed a crime scene technician on his way down, arms filled with books.

He called past me to another tech in the living room, “Looks like we’ve got something here.”

I could see that the “something here” he had in hand was every text on Voodoo and Afro-Caribbean Mysticism I had purchased, or checked out from the library, in the past week.

“Those are mine,” I called out to him.

He continued down the stairs, ignoring me completely.

“I said, those are mine,” I stressed. “I just bought them.”

Helen was calling to me from the earpiece, “Rowan? Rowan, what is wrong?”

The technician finally shot me a glance and shook his head. “Sorry sir. Now they’re evidence.”

My hand was already moving to hang up the phone even as I spoke. “Helen, I’ve got to go.”

CHAPTER 6:

“Exactly which part of ‘I just bought those’ are you having trouble understanding?” I barked. “And, if you’ll look closely you’ll see I got a few of them from the library as well.”

My objections had gone unheeded for the most part, and me simply being angry was starting to become me being flat-out, livid pissed. Even as I spoke, the stack of books was being placed in a paper evidence bag.

“Dammit! You aren’t taking those!” I almost shouted.

“Calm down, Mister Gant.” The lead crime scene technician tried to soothe me as his subordinate continued the process of securing the evidence, tagging it, and adding a description to the log.

“Calm down? My wife’s been arrested, you’re tearing my house apart, and now you’re going to take something that belongs to me and has nothing to do with this, all so you can use it against her? Calm down my ass!”

I would have simply pushed the man aside and gone after the technician who was actually bagging the books, but the situation had recently taken on a new layer of complexity. That layer came in the form of two uniformed Briarwood police officers who were presently standing in very close proximity to our heated disagreement. They had arrived at the house within a scant few minutes of the evidence technicians and had been quietly surveying the goings on from the middle of the dining room ever since. Until now, that is.

When they originally showed up, I assumed it had something to do with cooperation between jurisdictions. Keeping each other in the loop, professional courtesy, that sort of thing. While that was probably true to a large extent, they were now quite obviously providing security for the team that was legally ransacking my home.

“Mister Gant, I’m sorry but the books clearly fit the description of items listed on the warrant.”

“Listen to what I’m telling you,” I stated once again then exaggerated the enunciation of my following sentences as if speaking to a small child. “They. Do. Not. Be-long. To. Her… They. Be-long. To. Me.”

“I’m sorry.” He ignored my patronizing comment and splayed out his hands in surrender to some higher power as he made the apology one more time. “But, we have to take them.”

“No. You don’t.”

His tone became harder and he shot back, “Look, the warrant has been served, and it’s my job to execute it per the instructions of the court. The books fit the description on the list, so the books go with us. It’s that simple and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Sure there is. You can stop spouting this Nuremberg nonsense about following orders, engage your brain, and give them back to me.”

“Okay, now listen to what I’m telling you,” he instructed. “Because this is the last time I’m going to say it. You aren’t getting the books back. As of this moment they are evidence. Now, up till a few minutes ago, you’ve been cooperative and we definitely appreciate that. But, if you’re going to start interfering, I’m going to have to ask you to step outside.”

I shook my head and stared back at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Bullshit. I have the right to be present during the search.”

“As long as you aren’t obstructing the search, that’s true. But, you’re getting very close to crossing that line.”

“So, just because you and your crew can’t use a little common sense, you’re going to kick me out of my own house?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Gods! What is it with you people?! Does the fact that I just bought those books have no bearing on this at all?”

“Look, if that’s true, and you have receipts to prove it, you can take it up with Major Case and the prosecutor.”

“Maybe so, but right now I’m taking it up with YOU,” I returned.

In reality, I’m sure he was correct. If I could provide receipts, which I could, at the very least Jackie should be able to negate the effect of the books as evidence. In fact, she could probably get them thrown out altogether before it even went that far. But, I wasn’t willing to take that chance because with the situation as it was, our attorney’s ability to accomplish that feat was by no means guaranteed.

Ominous shadows were lurking somewhere in the background of all this. Someone, or maybe even something, was trying very hard to stack the deck against Felicity. That much had become painfully apparent over the past hour. I certainly wasn’t about to let anything I was holding in my own hand be used in that process if I could help it.

“That’s it, I’m done with this,” the crime scene technician replied with a wave of his hand before looking over to the Briarwood cops. “I have a job to do, and this man is preventing me from doing it. Would you guys like to take it from here?”

“Sir,” one of the uniformed officers spoke up. “Why don’t you step outside with me for a bit?”

The tech had turned back to face me, and I was now holding him locked in a stare down, so I snapped an acrid reply without breaking my gaze. “Why? Because I don’t want to.”

“Sir, that wasn’t a question. It was a strong suggestion.”

“Your suggestion is noted.”

“Sir, it was a very strong suggestion. Under the circumstances I can make it an order.”

“What? You people aren’t happy with just arresting my wife? Now you’re arresting me too?”

The officer replied, “No sir, you aren’t being arrested.” After a short pause he added, “Not yet, but if you keep going the way you are, it’s a very good possibility. So, why don’t you do like I suggested, and just step outside with me where you can cool off for a few minutes?”

Before I could manage to formulate another snide remark, I flashed on the recent conversation with Jackie. The words “don’t do anything stupid” rang through my head at full volume and made me take pause. As much as I wanted to lash out at all of them, to just go stark raving berserk, the fact remained that getting myself locked up wasn’t going to help Felicity at all.

I dwelled on the realization for a moment then huffed out a resigned sigh and ended my unblinking glare at the technician. With an agitated shake of my head, I looked over at the officer and grumbled, “Yeah, fine.”

“Good call,” he replied.

He was standing close enough to me that when he’d spoken I’d easily been able to pick up the odor of burnt tobacco on his breath.

“You smoke, right?” I asked.

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