it was there. Still, when I had pointed it out to the officer while I was being processed, he hadn’t acted as if he cared in the least. I guess that was how the game was played, especially in the smaller municipalities.
My friend shoved the card into his jacket pocket then gave me another once over and furrowed his brow. Cocking his head to the side, he looked at my arms and asked, “You still cuffed?”
I nodded. “Yeah. They put them back on me as soon as they were finished with the fingerprinting.”
“Jeezus H…” he spat then gave his head an angry shake. He quickly thrust his chin toward me as he reached into his pocket and withdrew his key ring. “Turn around and back up to the bars.”
I did as he said, and a moment later the hard metal restraints loosened then fell away. I heard them clinking as he presumably stowed them in a pocket and then put away his keys.
“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he mused aloud. “A lotta coppers aren’t too keen on wife beaters.”
I turned around and stared back at him while rubbing my wrists. “Is that what she told them?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Felicity? Yeah, that’s pretty much the story I got. They said they’ve got a fuckin’ novel out there that she dictated to ‘em when she filed the charges. Outlines a pattern of spousal abuse that goes back several years. They don’t think very highly of you around here ta’ say the least.”
“What about you? Do you believe that?”
He harrumphed and gave me a nonplussed glance. “Fuck no. But, she must be a hell of an actress ‘cause like I said, they’re buyin’ it retail.”
“She was putting on a performance, that’s for sure,” I agreed.
“Still, I gotta tell ya’. I just don’t understand why she’d say all that shit if it ain’t true.”
“It isn’t.”
“I know. I’m just tryin’ ta’ understand why she’s doin’ it.”
“She’s not herself at the moment,” I replied.
“Yeah, gotta say she didn’t look like it when I saw her.”
“Is she still here?” I asked hopefully.
“She was when I came in,” he said with a nod.
I let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Good. I figured she had already left.”
My concern for my wife instantly took a personal turn as my thoughts flashed on what had transpired on the convenience store parking lot. “So, how was she doing? I mean other than the performance. She’s not hurt is she?”
“Dunno. I didn’t talk to her. Just saw her through the window of the interview room. Looked okay, but she seemed like she was actin’ kinda weird. Can’t say for sure what… Just the way she moved or somethin’. Didn’t seem hurt, but she didn’t seem like Firehair to me.”
“She’s not.”
“Well, you two have apparently been through a lot since I last saw ya’,” he offered up an excuse.
“Yeah, well as long as she stays put, we should be fine,” I said. “We definitely don’t need her running off by herself right now.”
“Well she ain’t the one under arrest, Kemosabe. You are.”
“I’m serious, Ben. She can’t leave.”
“Well, I think she’s still workin’ on the complaint against ya’, so she’ll probably be here for a bit yet. I dunno for sure,” he offered.
I seized on an idea and voiced it. “Would it help to keep her here if I filed a counter complaint?”
“Maybe, but she’s got witnesses sayin’ you were the aggressor so it would probably be awhile before they weren’t ‘too busy to take your statement’, if you know what I mean.”
“Do I look like I attacked her?”
He cocked his head and looked at my face. “All that coulda happened while she was defending herself against you, Row.”
“That’s not how it was,” I spat.
He splayed out his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m on your side. I’m just tellin’ ya’ how it looks. So, anyway, just outta curiosity, what were ya’ doin’ that made ‘er go all psycho bitch on ya’?”
“I was trying to get her to take a drink of water.”
“Maybe she wasn’t thirsty.”
“Actually, it was salt water.”
“Salt wa… No. I don’t wanna know.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Fuck me.”
“My feelings exactly.”
“Okay, so why salt water?”
“I was trying to force her to cleanse and ground.”
“I was right. I don’t wanna know. And, just FYI, ‘force her’ is a really bad phrase to use under the circumstances.”
I sighed and shook my head.
“Okay, then, so who does she have as a witness,” I asked, changing the subject. “The store clerk?”
“Yeah, her, and the two cops who responded to the call.”
“What did the cops witness?”
“The high points? You holding ‘er down… You not responding to an order from a police officer… Her screaming at the top of ‘er lungs…”
“Gods, what a mess,” I mumbled to no one in particular then addressed my friend directly. “Just promise me you won’t let her out of here without one of us with her.”
“I’ll try, but it prob’ly ain’t gonna be you,” he huffed. “They’re workin’ on gettin’ her an emergency TRS on your ass right now.”
“A restraining order? You must be joking.”
“Wish I was.”
“Fuck me.”
“Now you’re startin’ to sound like me,” he replied. “And, yeah, that’s pretty much what she’s doin’. Fuckin’ ya’ over, that is.”
“Well, then you’re going to have to keep an eye on her.”
“Thanks a lot. So listen, maybe what she needs is ta’ talk with Helen or somethin’.”
I shook my head. “I think your sister has enough on her plate right now. Besides, this is way out of her area of expertise.”
“No. I’d just finished talkin’ to her when I got the call ta’ come down here. She’d pretty much wrapped stuff up and there’s not much else she can do about the funeral this late anyway,” he replied, ignoring the last half of my comment.
“Even so, she can’t fix this.”
“We could give it a try. I’m sure she’d come down here if I gave her a call. Especially for you ‘n Felicity.”
“No, Ben,” I explained, shaking my head again. “What I’m trying to tell you is that this isn’t something Helen can psychoanalyze away. When I say Felicity is not herself, I mean it literally. She’s not even Felicity right now.”
“Okay, so who is she? Friggin’ Sybil? That’s the kinda shit Helen deals with all the time.”
Since I’d had ample time to sit here staring at the wall, a good part of it had been spent thinking about what was happening. Unfortunately, none of the conclusions I reached were particularly pleasant. Since Ben wasn’t giving up on the therapy idea, I tossed out the most frightening of the scenarios, knowing full well it would stop him cold. Unfortunately, in a very real sense, I feared it wasn’t far from the truth.
“Actually, right now, she just might be the killer you’re looking for,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone.
The words had their intended effect. He’d already had his mouth open to speak, but instead of hitting me with his pre-formed objection, he levered his jaw slowly shut without a word. He frowned hard and the lines in his forehead grew deeper. Giving me a one-eyed stare, he asked, “Are you tellin’ me Firehair murdered Wentworth and Hobbes?”
I shook my head. “No. No. Not that. Well, not exactly. What I’m telling you is that for some reason she’s possessed by an ethereal connection to the killer.”
