just as guilty.”
“But, the police are convinced that it is your wife who is the culprit, yes?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, why? Do they have some compelling reason to think such a thing?”
“They say they have evidence placing her at the two crime scenes here in Saint Louis, as well as the one in Myrtle Beach.”
“That’s not good. What about the one in New York?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. The first I heard about New York was when you mentioned it earlier. However, the rumor is that they have seven other unsolved homicides throughout the United States with similar characteristics to these, so I suspect that is one of them.”
“Seven?!”
“That’s what I was told.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“A few years, apparently. Since two-thousand three at least.”
“And you were oblivious to it?”
“Of course I was,” I returned sharply. “Why wouldn’t I be? It wasn’t Felicity doing it.”
“Sorry, and I hate to say it, but, if the police have evidence…”
“Well, that’s where it starts moving beyond simply adding two and two,” I interrupted. “I don’t think their evidence is legitimate.”
“Why not? What is it?”
“Well…” I knew what her reaction was going to be, but I couldn’t lie because if she found out, it would do nothing but destroy the re-establishment of trust I’d started to develop with her. “They say they have DNA linking her to the crimes.”
“Remember when I asked about a ‘compelling reason’, Mister Gant? I’d say DNA evidence definitely qualifies as one of those.”
“I realize that, but I have cause to believe it’s bogus.”
“You mean a lab error? Did they re-run it?”
“Three times, actually. But, my contention is that it was planted or purposely tampered with. Long story short, I have enemies who would like nothing better than to discredit me in any way possible. I sincerely believe that they wouldn’t stop at framing my wife for murder in order to get to me, especially given that both of us are, or were, involved in the investigation. This is a perfect opportunity for something like that.”
“You mean you have enemies within the police department?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“So you think it’s a conspiracy? I’m sorry, but now you’re sounding like a television show.”
“Trust me, I know that. And, if it wasn’t happening to me, I’m sure I would say the same thing. But, given some of the events that have taken place in my life over the past few years, it’s actually nowhere near as crazy as it sounds. Besides, it’s the only logical explanation I can imagine right now because I know for certain that my wife isn’t a killer.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“She’s my wife, Doctor Rieth.”
“No offense, Mister Gant, but I assume you are familiar with the BTK killer?”
Of course I was. How could I not be? The only way anyone could have remained oblivious to Dennis Rader, self-dubbed BTK for his threefold methodology of binding, torturing, and then killing his victims, would be if they had been living in a total information vacuum. The history of his brutal crimes, his eventual capture and remorseless courtroom confession had held the attention of the nation, off and on, for the better part of the year. But, I knew that his sadistic legacy wasn’t her point. What she was driving at was the fact that in everyday life the man had been a pillar of the community, and that his unthinkable activities had been hidden from his family for nearly two decades.
“Since you mentioned it, let’s not stop there, Doctor Rieth,” I replied. “It’s not at all uncommon for the families of serial offenders to be clueless about the secret life their loved one is leading. You can lump John Wayne Gacy and a whole host of others right in with Rader.
“But, the fact remains that I am not a typical spouse wallowing in denial and disbelief as statistics would lead you to believe. Felicity is innocent, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it.”
She paused thoughtfully, but this time the silence didn’t have the same hollow feeling as before.
“I guess right about now you’re having trouble finding anyone to believe you,” she finally said.
“You have no idea,” I answered. “There are a couple of people in our corner, but at the moment it’s pretty lonely where I’m standing.”
“Okay then, so your wife is innocent, and it’s up to you to prove it. I suppose we should get back to the part about the Lwa…” she verbally returned us to the impetus for the conversation. “You mentioned that your wife exhibited odd behavior, and this is what leads you to believe she was being ridden. Tell me about it.”
Doctor Rieth listened attentively while I relayed the story of Felicity’s out-of-character actions, including her missing memories and assault on agent Mandalay as well as her violent tryst with the man she had picked up in the fetish club. It occurred to me as I went over the events for what seemed like the thousandth time, just exactly how insane it all really sounded. Of course, I had assumed from the beginning that it probably came off as ludicrous to outsiders unfamiliar with the true nature of the supernatural. But, as for me, I had been there. I had seen it first hand and knew what was happening. The problem was that, even given my own knowledge and experiences, the whole thing was now starting to sound ludicrous to me too.
When I reached the end of the tale, I simply stopped. I had to admit, given my own wavering faith in the story I’d just told, I was fully expecting to hear little more than silence followed by a dull click as the phone was hung up in my ear. However, what greeted me couldn’t have been much further from that if it had tried.
“Just for my own edification, your wife doesn’t suffer from D-I-D, does she?”
“D-I-D?”
“Dissociative Identity Disorder. They used to call it Multiple Personality Disorder.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Has she ever displayed odd changes in personality before this recent incident. Most especially childlike tendencies?”
“No,” I said again. “No offense, Doctor, but I thought you were a sociologist who specialized in world religions, not a shrink.”
“I am a sociologist, but as it happens I once had a teaching assistant with D-I-D, so I ended up learning quite a bit about it. I’m simply trying to cover all the possible explanations for your wife’s behavior.”
Her queries reminded me that Ben had used that very ailment as an excuse to defuse a situation with one of the local police departments when Felicity had first fallen under the influence of the Lwa. That was before we knew what was going on, and it had seemed like a reasonable course of action at the time. However, now I feared it was going to become ammunition for the other side even though it was entirely untrue.
“She’s not a multiple.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she prodded.
“I understand, and I agree, but I assure you we can rule it out,” I told her.
“Well then, if we assume that she was truly being ridden, the way I see it is that there has to be some kind of latent connection between your wife and the Lwa. Or, maybe even her and the killer.” Doctor Rieth’s reply was immediate and succinct. In fact, she hadn’t even paused before offering the analysis.
“So, you don’t think this all sounds crazy?” I asked.
“Oh yes, it sounds crazy all right, but that’s not the point,” she answered. “Remember, many of the things I’ve written about in my book sound crazy to the uninitiated.”
“Yeah, I guess they do.”
“So, if we are to assume that your theory about the Lwa is correct, then we have to find the reason it chose your wife as a horse , especially given your contention that it already had one with a far stronger, and completely willing, connection. Knowing that may well provide a clue that will lead back to either the identity of the Lwa or even the original horse, which is the ultimate goal. Correct?”
“Correct. Any ideas on that front?”
