voice was no longer jovial. It was authoritative and controlled but still couldn’t hide the twist of fear that corkscrewed through its tone.
As consciousness slipped away, I was certain I could hear Miranda laughing.
CHAPTER 9
“Have you traveled out of the country recently?” the paramedic asked as he took my pulse.
“No,” I replied. The word was muffled by the oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth, so I shook my head for good measure.
“Have you been in contact with anyone who has recently traveled abroad, or have you…”
“No,” I replied again, cutting him off. This time I pulled the oxygen mask down away from my face. “And before you…”
“Sir, you need to leave that on.” He interrupted me and tried to move the mask back over my nose and mouth, but I pushed his hand away.
I continued with my objection. “Look, I know where you’re going with this, and I understand, believe me. But, you’re wasting your time. I haven’t contracted any virus, and I’m not contagious.”
“Sir, you don’t have any visible wounds, and…”
“…And I just bled all over the place, yeah, I know. Listen, just give me a minute here…”
Leaning to the side and looking past him, I moved on to a more pressing issue as I directed myself to Constance, “Do me a favor… Call Felicity and check on her…” I could hear the thread of near panic starting to unwind through my own voice, so I was certain she could too. “Make sure she’s still okay.”
“I’m sure she is,” she said, shooting me a puzzled look.
“Just call her and check for me, please?” I appealed. “Miranda has something to do with this, I’m certain of it.”
She nodded as she pulled her cell phone from her belt. “Okay. But don’t worry, I’m certain she’s fine.”
I nodded. “I know, but I just need to be sure.”
“You realize she’s going to want to know why it’s me calling instead of you, right? What do you want me to tell her?”
“The truth I guess. She’ll know if you’re lying to her.”
“Great,” she mumbled as she stabbed in the number. Then she tucked the phone up to her ear while wandering a few feet to the side so as to be removed from the commotion surrounding me.
I couldn’t hear what she was saying because her voice was drowned out by the paramedic once again insisting that I keep the oxygen mask in place. However, I watched her until she turned back to face me. Once she waved and gave me a vigorous nod, I relaxed as much as I could and allowed the poking and prodding to continue.
We were still in the hotel restaurant, with me sitting in a chair at the center of the mess. The scant few patrons who had earlier been enjoying a late lunch were long gone. That was understandable, of course. After all, the sight of a man bleeding profusely all over a table tended to have a dampening affect where appetites were concerned. Since the dining area was temporarily closed by the management, the only gawkers present were the wait staff, and they were at least keeping their distance.
“Follow my finger,” the paramedic instructed, holding his gloved digit in front of my face.
I’d been down this road so many times I suspected I could conduct the examination for him. It seemed as though every time I became involved in an investigation, I ended up in the back of an ambulance or sitting in an emergency room, whether I needed treatment or not. Still, I complied with the instruction then continued to sit quietly while he took my vitals for the second time.
“BP one-forty over ninety,” he called out to his partner.
“See,” I mumbled through the oxygen mask. “I’m fine.”
“That’s actually a little to the high side of normal, sir,” he replied.
“Especially for a guy who just bled all over the place, right?”
“There’s an explanation for…”
“I know there is,” I interrupted, voice still muffled but taking on a harder edge. “It’s because I’m starting to get really annoyed with all this.”
“Just calm down, Mister Gant.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Right.”
A few moments later I heard Constance say, “Rowan. Look up here at me.”
I brought my face upward, and the deceptively bright strobe of the small flash on her cell phone flickered in my eyes. At the same time, the electronically produced noise of a clicking camera shutter sounded in my ears.
I pulled the mask down again over the further objections of the paramedic and asked, “What’s that for?”
“It’s a compromise,” she said, eyes focused on her cell phone screen instead of me as she rapidly thumbed the keypad. “I’m messaging it to your wife as proof that you’re okay, so she doesn’t buy herself a ticket on the next flight she can find.”
“But she sounded okay, right?”
“Other than worried sick about you, yes. She says she’s fine.”
I glanced down at my blood-covered shirt and briefly tried to imagine what the photo she had just snapped must look like. The image I conjured wasn’t pretty. “You really think that picture is going to calm her down?”
“Believe me, I mentioned that to her myself, but she insisted.”
“Yeah,” I grunted. “Sounds like her. But I guess she’s seen me looking worse than this.”
Constance nodded. “She said something to that effect when I gave her a description. You’re still going to need to call her though. She wanted to talk to you right this minute, but I convinced her to let them finish checking you over first”
“Yeah, I know I will. Thanks.”
“Sir, I really need you to put the oxygen mask back on,” the paramedic insisted yet again.
“No,” I said, giving my head a shake as I pulled the mask up over my head before he could stop me, and then handed it to him.
He took it but continued trying to convince me it was necessary. “You need to leave this on while we transport you to the hospital.”
“I’m not going to any hospital,” I replied.
“Sir, you’ve obviously lost a significant amount of blood for some unknown reason,” he pressed. “I would really suggest that you allow us to take you to the hospital.”
“You should probably listen to him, Rowan,” Constance told me.
“This isn’t anything new,” I told her. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.”
“This has happened to you before?” the paramedic asked.
“A few times, yeah.”
“Then you should definitely let us take you to the hospital. They can run some tests to determine what caused this,” he pressed.
“I can tell you exactly what caused it,” I replied. “The spirit of a hundred and fifty-year-old sociopath.”
He furrowed his brow and glanced toward the police officer who had responded to the call with them then looked back to me, “I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying that you were attacked?”
“Not like you think I mean…” I grumbled.
“How then?”
“It’s a long story with too many chapters for me to get into at the moment.”
“But when you said spirit, did you mean like a ghost or something?” he asked.
“She’s definitely an ‘or something,’ that’s for sure.”
“Mister Gant, I need to ask if you are under the care of a psychiatrist, or…”
I looked up at my friend then sighed heavily and spoke over the paramedic, “Constance? A little help here.”
She shook her head as she extracted her credentials from her pocket and gave the case a practiced flip so
