“I don’t have the same weakness as you.”
“And that is?”
“You love her.”
“I wouldn’t call that a weakness.”
“Of course you wouldn’t, little man. You’re male. You won’t understand the power she holds over you until it’s too late.”
“And, she holds no power over you?”
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
“I can fulfill her desires.”
“I see.”
“They can’t protect you forever.”
“Who?”
“The police. I know they are there.”
She was drawing a logical conclusion, so I didn’t think anything of it until she added, “I bet I could make him love me.”
I froze, not sure how to respond. After a thick pause I asked, “Who?”
She laughed then said, “The indian with the cigar.”
The comment told me she probably wasn’t simply casting a line into the water, but I still didn’t want to confirm anything in the event I was wrong.
“I have no idea who you are talking about,” I replied.
“Of course you do,” she returned then paused for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh and taking on a heavily sarcastic tone. “I’m bored now. I’ll call back when the princess is done with her beauty sleep.”
The phone clicked, and the hollow static of a broken connection filled my ear. I thumbed off the phone and laid it on the table.
“Anything at all?” I asked, looking at Constance.
“Yes,” she nodded. “But nothing good. The call didn’t come from the prepaid cell phone she used last night. They found it sitting on a park bench about two miles from here, which means she dropped it there as a decoy. What’s worse though, is wherever she was calling from she used a phone-spoofing card, so it tracked back to the relay service. We won’t be able to get anything out of them until we get hold of their legal department, and even then they are probably going to demand a subpoena, which is going to take time.”
I picked up the handset and thumbed the display over to the caller ID log. The most recent call was registered on the screen as coming from Felicity’s business line. For all intents and purposes, it looked like we had called ourselves.
“Damn,” I muttered. “Well, I’m not surprised they found the cell so close. Apparently she was watching the house last night or at least came by here.”
“Did she tell you that?” Constance asked.
“Not in those exact words,” I replied. “But, she was somewhere nearby when Ben was outside smoking because she mentioned ‘the indian with the cigar’ before hanging up.”
“Fuck me,” my friend mumbled.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, well, she had something to say about that too.”
CHAPTER 37:
Local police, along with Constance and a trio of other FBI agents, were making precautionary door-to-door rounds of the neighborhood in light of Annalise’s comment about seeing Ben. My friend had pulled the duty of staying in the house with Felicity and me, which he hadn’t complained about since it was only a few degrees above freezing outside, and a fairly stiff wind was gusting through the streets.
I watched out the dining room window as the few neighbors who were home would point toward our house as soon as they were shown the photo of Annalise. All of them were making various demonstrative gestures along with insistent bobs of their heads as they spoke. I could only assume they were assuring the police the redhead in the picture could be found right here. I really couldn’t blame them. I knew firsthand the resemblance was truly uncanny, and I lived in the same house with the good sister.
In the end I was sure it would all become more fodder for the local gossip mill. Everything surrounding us always did.
“She probably just drove past while you were out there last night,” I said aloud, continuing to stare out the window. “I doubt she’s actually hanging around nearby waiting to get caught. Otherwise I think I’d feel her.”
“Prob’ly,” Ben agreed. “That’s what we’re figurin’ too, but we need ta’ cover all the bases just ta’ be safe.”
“Yeah, makes sense,” I replied, stepping away from the window and taking a seat across from him at the table. “Either way, I appreciate it.”
Felicity had been up for a couple of hours now. While she was still noticeably moody, her spirits seemed higher than they had been the night before. She certainly wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t a basket case either, which was certainly putting my mind at ease. Rather than sit around being reminded of the situation, however, she had sequestered herself in her office downstairs to work. Throwing herself into her job seemed to be a common form of personal therapy in which she would engage. She’d done it ever since I’d known her, so I wasn’t going to object. But, just to be sure nothing set her off, we had disconnected her answering machine and were keeping the telephone handset upstairs with us. It was a foregone conclusion that she would be ending up on the phone with Annalise again at some point, but I wasn’t about to let it happen when she was by herself, even if that was only for a handful of seconds.
After a moment of studying me silently, my friend asked, “So… Gettin’ any Twilight Zone shit?”
“No. Well, no more than the usual headache, I don’t guess. Why?”
“Just wonderin’. You got that look.”
“Which look is that?”
“Just that look,” he replied then punctuated the statement by whistling a few patently recognizable notes.
“I see.”
“I hate ta’ say it, but we could use an edge,” he said with a shrug. “We’re still tryin’ ta’ predict Devereaux’s next move and I, for one, ain’t above a bit of la-la land ta’ help.”
“Good luck on that. If I get anything you’ll be the first to know.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, Row, the Feebs think there’s only a small chance she’ll try ta’ make an end run at ya’ as long as we’re here. Even if she is keepin’ an eye on the place.”
“Small chance?”
“Maybe twenty-five, thirty percent accordin’ to their experts.”
“They might be underestimating her.”
“Why do ya’ say that?”
“Desperate people do desperate things,” I replied.
“You really think she’s that bad off?” he asked.
“Yes, I do. There is only one emotion stronger than love, Ben, and that’s hatred. Right now, Annalise is filled with both. That’s a volatile combination. It’s just like the jealous lover who proclaims, ‘if I can’t have her, nobody can.’
“She’ll do whatever it takes to keep Miranda and Felicity apart, even if it means sacrificing herself so that Miranda has no one left to possess in the end. I’m sure that isn’t her first choice, but I definitely wouldn’t put it past her.”
“So you’re doin’ psychoanalysis?” he replied, the words were more verbal observation than actual question. “Now I know you’ve been spendin’ too much time with my sister.”
“Yeah. That’s what I keep hearing. But, it’s not really that academic… Or, arcane either. The simple truth is, I
