case that makes any difference to you.”
“She tell you that?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, she did.”
I slowly blew out a breath through puffed cheeks while continuing to work my fingers against my scalp. My pause was long, and when I finally replied, my words were unconvincing, even to me. “Well, you’re both wrong. There’s nothing to tell. So if you don’t mind, I’d prefer we just drop it.”
“Fine,” she replied. “But do yourself a favor, Row. Don’t ever turn to a life of crime. You’ve got to be one of the worst liars I’ve ever met.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
A short lull intervened then Constance said, “It’s a little after eight. Do you want to see about grabbing some dinner?”
I gave up on the fruitless massage and looked over at her. “Actually, I need to call Ben. He was working on something…”
“It’s already taken care of,” she said, cutting me off. “Detective McLaughlin is already on her way to your house.”
“But she wasn’t…”
She didn’t let me finish. “After what happened tonight, Ben thought it might be a good idea to cover all the bases.”
“Yeah… He’s probably right. Then I guess I need to…”
“That’s taken care of too. Felicity is on board with it and is expecting her.”
“Well…” I mumbled. “I guess I should say thanks.”
“You’re welcome. So…dinner?”
“Honestly, I’m not all that hungry,” I replied. “I know it’s still early, but since I didn’t really get any sleep last night, I think maybe I’d just like to turn in.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” she agreed. “It’s been a long day for both of us.”
Standing up, she walked over to the closet, slid the door open, and then pulled the extra pillow and blanket down from the shelf. I watched in silence as she headed back over to one of the more comfortable chairs in the corner of the room. After unfolding the blanket and spreading it out, she extracted her Sig Sauer and laid it on the table next to the chair. The firearm was followed a moment later by her handcuffs, credentials and room key.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She looked over at me. “Getting ready to turn in.”
“Something wrong with your room?”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s just fine.”
“I take it you’ve decided that you’re spending the night in here with me.” My words were more a statement than a question.
“Obviously.”
“Why?”
“Can you promise me you aren’t going to have another episode of some sort during the night?”
“Yes. I promise.”
She parked herself in the chair and settled in. “Like I said, Rowan. You’re just about the worst liar on the planet.”
“I’ll be fine,” I objected.
She pulled the blanket over herself and said, “Goodnight, Rowan.”
Sunday, April 23
9:17 A.M.
FMC Carswell / Carswell NAS JRB
Fort Worth, Texas
CHAPTER 13
“I spoke to the assigned officer personally,” Doctor Jante told me then shook her head to underscore the statement that followed. “Unfortunately, she said that Devereaux was sleeping during the period of time in question.”
As was the case the day before, Constance and I had been hastily escorted onto the grounds of the Naval Air Station where FMC Carswell was located. I had felt a bit self-conscious as we were brought forward and checked through ahead of the other visitors who were obligated to wait en masse. However, the feeling was quickly overshadowed by everything else that was weighing on me.
I finished shoving my belongings into a personal effects locker once again, and then as I rechecked my pockets I asked, “So the guard is certain she was asleep?”
“As certain as she can be under the circumstances,” she replied. “So I’m afraid there’s really no way to answer your original query.”
“Actually, I think you just did. If she was sleeping then she was Annalise…or what’s left of her, anyway.”
“I’m not sure I follow your logic. Would you care to enlighten me?”
“By your definition of what’s going on with her, I can see where you might not,” I explained. “But, if you’re willing to accept the fact that you aren’t dealing with a fractured personality here and that you’re actually up against a parasitic spirit that’s using Annalise’s body, then it should make perfect sense.”
“How so?”
“Simple deduction. Miranda doesn’t need sleep. Annalise does.”
“Actually, Mister Gant, a similar argument could still be made in the case of dissociative identity disorder. The manifestation of a given personality can easily trigger the release of stress hormones, which can in turn inhibit the ability to sleep. And to be honest, whenever the Annalise personality is in control, she always displays far more agitation, which would effectively counter your theory. Therefore, what you are saying doesn’t prove your claim that this is a spirit possession at all, nor does it accurately indicate which personality was truly in control at the time.”
I held up my hands in mock surrender. “No problem, Doc. I’m not here to argue the point. Feel free to rationalize it any way you want, that’s fine by me. But whether you agree or not, as far as I’m concerned if she was sleeping, then Annalise Devereaux was the one in the cell, not Miranda.”
“Aren’t you making a rather large assumption?”
“I prefer to call it a necessary leap when science fails,” I said, parroting back to her the words she’d used earlier to describe why the FBI was taking such a vested interest in me of late. I purposely refrained from making a point of that fact since Constance was standing nearby; I didn’t want to cause her any undue trouble by possibly bringing to light that I’d told her everything I was supposed to have kept secret. Fortunately, it was apparent from the doctor’s expression that no explanation was necessary and that the verbal jab had landed directly where it was aimed.
Jante raised an eyebrow and gave me a stern look. “An interesting choice of words. Still, even if you are correct, what does this prove? Why is it so important?”
“It tells me that Miranda wasn’t here. And if I’m right, that means she was using someone else’s body to commit another murder.”
“A murder? Where?”
“My best guess, Saint Louis.”
“Best guess?” She cocked her head to the side. “So this is just part of your theory then? You don’t actually know that a murder has been committed, correct?”
“I can’t point you to a body if that’s what you mean, but my gut feeling is that she’s killed again.”
Constance piped up, “I already contacted Detective Storm with the Saint Louis city homicide division, and he alerted the Major Case Squad. They don’t have anything yet, but I’ve worked with Rowan before. If he says…”
