“In part, yes,” she replied.
“But did I pass then?” Felicity asked.
Jante shook her head. “Not really.”
CHAPTER 17:
“And that means what?” Felicity pressed. “You’re going to arrest me again?”
“No,” the doctor replied. “But you’re still holding something back and that concerns us.”
“Trust me, I’m not keeping anything secret that would help you.”
“So then you admit that you are withholding information?” Hanley asked.
“This is turning into an interrogation again,” I objected.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, Mister Gant, but it’s the two of you who are turning it into an interrogation by not cooperating,” he replied, voice stern and even.
“We’d be a lot more cooperative if you were being honest with us.”
“We are.”
“Only when it’s convenient for you,” I replied. “Or did you forget the big reveal just a minute ago?”
“Mister Gant, believe it or not we are trying to help you.”
“You’ve got a hell of a way of showing it.”
“Mister Gant,” Doctor Jante interrupted. “We need you to calm down. Devereaux and her attorneys are trying to drag your wife into this, and so far they are doing a damn good job. Essentially, Devereaux is placing herself at the scene of your wife’s extramarital tryst with Lewis…”
“That’s not what it was,” Felicity objected.
“Be that as it may, that is exactly how it will be portrayed in court,” Hanley replied with a dismissive gesture.
Jante continued. “Either way, she appears to be trying to make a mutual connection between the two of you that goes beyond her simply having an obsession.”
“So why doesn’t she just come out and accuse Felicity of being her accomplice then?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”
“She’s far too intelligent for that,” Jante replied. “It might sound easier, but it would be less effective. She knows making an accusation like that would be far too obvious under the circumstances. Instead, she’s painting Miz O’Brien into the picture. Remember, all it takes is reasonable doubt.”
“She’s not after reasonable doubt,” I blurted, forgetting to hold my tongue. “She’s after complicity.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Have either of you wondered why she wanted to talk to you pre-trial?” I asked.
“Of course,” she replied. “It’s obvious she is up to something, and it would appear that somehow implicating Miz O’Brien in the crimes is it.”
“Like I said, complicity.”
“But complicity gets her nothing.”
“Actually, it gets her access to my wife, which is what she really wants.”
“Why?”
I knew I was getting carried away, so I slammed on the brakes and tried to recover by saying, “Just call it a hunch.”
Felicity recognized that I had talked myself into a corner and jumped in to divert the conversation. “So what do we do now?”
Jante looked over to her. “Unfortunately, we can’t simply assume that she is fabricating everything she says. The real sticking points are the mentions of Miranda in your arrest record, so we need to be clear on why exactly that is.”
“It sounds like you consider that some sort of damning evidence,” I observed.
“It is. It indicates a connection.”
“Then let me ask another question and hope like hell I don’t regret it later. Why does the federal government care whether or not my wife is implicated in this?”
“Contrary to what you might believe, Mister Gant, the government does actually care whether or not an innocent person is wrongly accused or convicted of a crime.”
“No offense, but you’ll have to forgive me if I take that with a shaker full of salt.”
“I’m merely answering your question. We aren’t here to change your opinions.”
I didn’t press any further. I felt certain there was something going on behind the scenes here, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. However, what I did know for a fact was that some unnamed benefactor within the FBI had pulled my fat out of the fire when I had been arrested in New Orleans while unofficially investigating this case on my own. Something told me that same mystery person was behind this as well. I suppose I should have been thankful, and in many ways I was, but in the back of my head I couldn’t help but wonder what price I was going to pay and exactly when the bill was going to come due.
“We are simply trying to find the truth,” Doctor Jante said. “We need to determine if anything Devereaux has said is both accurate and at the same time inaccessible without her first having direct contact with Miz O’Brien.” She shifted her gaze to Felicity and added, “If you had such contact with her, we need to know about it, and why.”
“And if there is something she knows that she shouldn’t?” my wife asked.
“Then we could potentially have a problem,” Hanley said.
“I think we have one then,” she replied.
“How so? Did you have direct contact with Devereaux?”
“No, not until the night at the zoo when she was captured. And when she called to threaten me. But you already know about all that.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“I’m sure Miranda knows quite a bit about me,” she sighed. “Much more than she reasonably should.”
“It would help if you could be a bit more specific about that,” Doctor Jante pressed.
“Believe me,” I spoke up. “That’s just about as specific as you want her to get.”
“And why is that, Mister Gant?” she asked.
I had already slipped twice and managed to duck and run. I didn’t know if I could get away with it a third time. But, since this conversation was rushing headlong toward parts unknown, I elected to give them my standard answer anyway. “Because if either of us tell you who Miranda really is, and how we came to know her, you won’t believe us.”
“How can you be so sure?” Hanley asked.
“Got the t-shirt,” I told him with a matter-of-fact shrug.
“May I ask if this has anything to do with your personal contention that Miranda is actually some sort of Voodoo spirit and that Devereaux, as well as your wife, have both been possessed by said entity?” Doctor Jante asked.
The question caught me cold, and I simply didn’t have an immediate response for it. In fact, I wasn’t entirely certain I had a response at all. The one thing that kept going through my mind, however, was Ben Storm’s voice saying, “Yeah, tell it to a judge.”
After a moment I let out a chuckle and shook my head. “You two are good. I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“We’re simply after the truth, Mister Gant.”
The question in my mind at this point was how they knew. Obviously they were in possession of the case files; they had said as much right at the outset. But, I wasn’t aware that any of the less tangible information had ended up in those official records. In fact, I was somewhat flabbergasted that it apparently had.
Both Ben and Constance were fanatically meticulous about premeditated omission of the paranormal details when it came to their reports. There were simply some events that had no logical explanation-certain happenings that, when committed to paper, came off as too bizarre for belief, especially to the uninitiated and devoutly
