Doctor Jante held up a hand to stop her. “I’m familiar with Mister Gant’s track record.” She sighed then pursed her lips and studied the floor for a moment before looking back up to my face.
“Hypothetically, if I were to believe this whole story of yours, what makes you think Miranda murdered someone in Saint Louis?”
“In her own way, she told me she did.”
She furrowed her brow. “Are you basing that on something she said during yesterday’s interview?”
“Actually, no. She chose a somewhat more perverse route to get my attention.”
“What is that?”
“Believe it or not, she caused me to bleed all over my lunch.”
“Mister Gant, now you’re making even less sense than before.”
“I know that’s how it seems, but you’re just going to have to take my word for it,” I said. “Intuition, remember?”
“Yes, I do. But I also remember that you promised me a coherent explanation, and I’ve yet to hear one.”
“That’s true, I did. But, I’m afraid this is about as coherent as talking to dead people gets. Honestly, it all comes down to a matter of connecting some unrelated dots.”
She cast another skewed glare at me and sighed once more. “Again, assuming I accept your story as even remotely possible, whose body did she use? Obviously not your wife’s, as you seem to fear will happen, or I suspect you wouldn’t be this calm.”
“No,” I replied while shaking my head vigorously. “She didn’t use Felicity, although I can guarantee you that’s her end game with all of this.”
“So you’ve said. Who then?” Jante pressed.
“Only Annalise and Miranda know that answer.”
“And you think you can convince one of them to tell you?”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
“Then what exactly is your intention here?”
“I’m just looking for some more dots to connect, Doctor Jante. Related, unrelated, I don’t care. I just want to stop her.”
“She’s behind bars, Mister Gant.”
“No, she isn’t. You took a body off the streets, that’s all,” I replied. “That’s not going to stop Miranda, and she’s on a mission to prove that.”
She regarded me in silence. I waited several heartbeats then let out a heavy sigh and rubbed my forehead for a moment. I was about to speak when a sharp trill sounded nearby. I glanced over to see Constance pulling her cell phone out and thumbing it on. As she stepped away from us, I heard her say, “This is Mandalay.”
I turned back to Doctor Jante and found that she was still frowning at me. Rather than continue the stare down and wait to see which one of us was going to flinch first, I simply gave in and said, “Look, I was under the impression you were all for me going back in there with her.”
“I was,” she replied.
“By ‘was,’ do you mean you aren’t any longer?”
“What I mean is that since our discussion yesterday, there have been some concerns raised about your effectiveness in this situation.”
“By you or by someone farther up the food chain?” I asked.
“The concerns came from higher up.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised.” I shook my head. No longer caring about secrets, I spat, “So since this lab rat isn’t behaving the way you want him to, you’re ending the experiment.”
She glared at me. “That option is being seriously considered.”
“Then why the hell am I even standing here arguing with you?” I barked, raising my voice slightly. “Why did you bother to set this meeting up in the first place if you weren’t going to let it happen?”
I was now attracting the attention of staff as well as a group of other visitors that had entered the lobby area. Jante shot me a hard look then grabbed me by the arm and pulled me aside.
In a hushed voice she demanded, “Calm down, please. Your lack of self-control is the primary concern.”
“It didn’t seem to be an issue yesterday.”
“Actually, it was for some.”
“Well, if you think this is a lack of self-control, then you haven’t seen anything yet,” I growled. “Now, why don’t you answer my question?”
“Mister Gant, you’re here because even with the concerns, you still have your advocates.”
“Lucky me,” I returned, tone still edgy. “Listen, I think I made it crystal clear yesterday that I wasn’t all that excited about being the subject of an experiment to begin with, but now I’ve had enough of this bullshit. So, if you need to take a vote or something, then get on the horn and do it; because, if all we’re going to do is stand here and argue, I’m done.”
“Excuse me,” Constance said, interjecting herself into the close quarters conversation. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think you both need to hear this. That call was Detective Storm in Saint Louis. They found a body that fits with what Rowan predicted.”
“And that would be?” Doctor Jante replied.
“Mid to late twenties with what appears to be a bite mark on her neck,” I announced. “And she will have been exsanguinated.”
“Yes,” Constance confirmed. “Except it’s he, not she. The victim is male.”
“Male?” I questioned, furrowing my brow.
“Yes,” she replied. “I know the gender is a deviation, but listen to me-there are a couple of other things you need to know. Unlike the women killed last month, his body also shows signs of extreme physical tortures which are consistent with the type found on many of Miranda’s victims.”
“She’s sending a message,” I said.
Constance added, “And it’s addressed to you, Rowan. There was something protruding from his mouth. An Emerald Photographic Services business card.”
As if the signs of torture weren’t obvious enough, my wife’s business card drove the point home.
“Dammit,” I muttered. “Felicity?”
“Ben already checked. Detective McLaughlin is with her and everything is fine.”
“Good,” I said then brought a spate of calm sarcasm to bear on Jante. “Well, Doc, is that enough confirmation for you?”
“Fine,” she said, voice flat. “I’ll have you escorted over.”
“Great,” I returned, my tone just as businesslike. I looked over at Constance and asked, “While I’m in there, would you mind doing me a couple of favors?”
“Of course. What do you need?”
“First, call Ben back and ask if he can get Charlee to stay with Felicity until I get home.”
“You mean overnight?”
“Actually, no, that’s the second favor. See if you can either change our tickets to something that will get us out of here as soon as possible, or buy new ones if you have to. I’ll pay whatever it costs.”
“I can do that,” she replied.
“Thanks,” I told her then turned back to Doctor Jante. “Where can I get some bottled water and some salt around here?”
She wrinkled her brow and asked, “Why?”
“It’s an intuition thing,” I replied.
“There’s a vending machine on the way over,” she offered, shaking her head. “I’ll have to see what I can do about the salt.”
“I appreciate it. Oh, and I’m going to need something else from you too.”
“And that would be?”
“A waiver of the visitation restrictions because I’m taking the water in there with me.”
