“No, that’s not what I mean. I just think there’s some significance to the vision that I’m missing,” I explained then tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling. After a minute or so of silence, I looked over at Felicity again and said, “By the way, I think I probably forgot to say thank you. That was some pretty quick thinking you did back there at the morgue.”
“What? You mean salting a dead woman’s corpse into submission?”
“Hmmph. Well, I couldn’t really see what was happening, so I didn’t know about the salt. But I could definitely hear you rattling off the banishing spell. How long have you been carrying that one around in your pocket, cocked and ready?”
“I haven’t.” She shook her head. “I made it up on the spot.”
“See there… Like I said, quick thinking.”
“Aye, it was a lucky rhyme. I was angry, and anger trumps everything. I could have recited a recipe for crab dip as long as the intent was there. Miz Foster’s spirit should actually be glad I didn’t pluck a hair out of her dead little head and do some real damage.”
“Yeah, I caught your addendum as well.”
“Apparently she did too, because she left,” she spat.
“So… You sound like you’re still a little on the angry side.”
“I suppose I am,” she admitted.
“At me?” I asked.
“No.” She punctuated the reply with an animated shake of her head. “Not at you… At the situation. To be honest, I think it’s really frustration more than anything else. I mean, you were perfectly grounded, and on top of that you had me anchoring you as well.” She shrugged and threw her hands up in exasperation. “But look what happened anyway… There was just no way to control it.”
“I know,” I told her. “But for the whole process to work I have to let them in, and once the door is open… Well… You’ve been there… You know…”
She nodded. “Aye. They’re like houseguests from hell who refuse to leave.”
We both heard a sharp knock then the door to the treatment room slowly swung open and Ben poked his head through the gap.
“Hey, white man,” he greeted me as he continued pushing the door open wider and stepped inward then allowed it to pivot shut in his wake. “How ya’ doin’?”
“As well as can be expected, I guess,” I replied, glancing up at the IV bag and pointing to it. “They’re topping me off or something.”
“Heya, Firehair,” he said, glancing over at Felicity.
She nodded.
“So listen,” he began as he looked back over to me. “The description of your Twilight Zone nurse pretty much fits with our Jane Doe. As much as you were able to give us anyway. So just ta’ be safe, they’re gonna run the name Amanda against missing persons.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, right?” I asked.
“Maybe. We’ll hafta see. Woulda helped ta’ have a last name.”
“Sorry about that.”
He shrugged. “No need to apologize, it was la-la land stuff. I get that even if they don’t. But the big problem is the name could be an alias or something, so we could get false hits. And if she was never reported missin’ in the first place, then we aren’t gonna get any hits at all. If that happens then we still have a Jane Doe… Or an Amanda Doe… However you wanna look at it.”
“But, what you aren’t saying is that no matter what you get, it still doesn’t bring us any closer to figuring out who is doing this or to finding Judith Albright,” I offered as I laid my head back and closed my eyes.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t gonna point that out. Not just yet, anyway,” my friend told me. “But don’t count it out. Something as simple as a name can still produce a lead.”
I let out a long sigh then spoke aloud to myself as much as them. “Emily kept saying, It is an honor to be chosen, I won’t be afraid.”
“Yeah, you already told me that,” he grunted. “No offense, white man, but that ain’t a whole lotta help either. Now, help, I’m being held at xyz house on whatever street would be a definite step in the right direction.”
“I know,” I replied. “And you also know it doesn’t work like that.”
“Yeah. Trust me, I’ve been tryin’ to explain that to the brass.”
“If I can figure out what she meant about it being an honor to be chosen, maybe it will set us on the right path.”
“Well, based on the amount of time between when she disappeared and when her body turned up, maybe it’s some form of brainwashing, then,” Felicity suggested. “Like a Stockholm Syndrome type of thing.”
“Yeah, they tossed that idea out there when I called all this in a little while ago,” Ben replied. “Then when I mentioned you said she heard chanting, they started in with the whole Satanic ritual murder angle.”
“They just love that one, don’t they?” I replied.
“Yeah, well some things just ain’t gonna change, Row.”
“I guess I can’t blame them,” I offered. “Even with what I know, I have to admit that some kind of ritual murder scenario crossed my mind too.”
“So you think maybe there’s some kinda cult operatin’ in the area?”
I shook my head. “I really don’t know, Ben. Unfortunately I’m just as confused by all this as the rest of you. But I have trouble believing there is a whole mob involved in the killing. Two killers, I can wrap my head around. But several killers working in conjunction, I just don’t see it.”
“Or maybe you just don’t wanna…”
“You know, Ben, as much as I hate to admit it, you may be right about that.”
“Yeah, I was afra…”
Another knock sounded at the treatment room door, and this time the ER doctor who had been assigned to my case entered. When he saw Ben standing there, a look of annoyance screwed itself onto his face.
“We don’t really allow…” he began.
Ben slipped his badge case from an inner jacket pocket then quickly flashed his shield and ID inches from the doctor’s nose. “You were saying?”
“Is there a problem, Officer?” the doctor asked, taking a step back.
“Not really,” Ben replied as he tucked the case back into his pocket. “And, by the way, that’s Detective.”
“My apologies.”
“That’s okay. I thought you were a nurse,” Ben replied then continued speaking before the doctor could say anything. “So, here’s the deal. Rowan is one of our civilian consultants, and he happens ta’ be helpin’ us with a fairly important case right now. I just needed to talk to ‘im.”
“I see,” the doctor said with a curt nod. “You know the sarcasm was completely unnecessary.”
“Go have yourself half the day I’ve already had, then come tell me that,” my friend returned without missing a beat.
Rather than argue, the doctor turned his attention to me. “How are you feeling, Mister Gant?”
“Confused, hungry, and a little tired, pretty much in that order,” I replied. “How about you?”
“Confused?” he asked.
“No need to write it down, Doc, it’s not a symptom,” I told him. “It’s just something we were discussing about the case is all.”
He nodded and said, “I see,” again. He didn’t sound particularly happy about anything at the moment, but I couldn’t really tell if that was his natural demeanor or if Ben had set him off by sticking a badge in his face and generally being an ass.
“So, what’s the prognosis?” I asked.
“At the moment your vitals are stable,” he replied while looking through a file. “Your blood work appears normal… I am however, a bit concerned that we haven’t yet been able to pinpoint the actual source of your blood loss.”
“You won’t,” I told him.
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s a long story you wouldn’t believe even if I told you.”
