All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation (20 page)

What I was going to end up owing Jackie for
this bit of legal sorcery, I had no idea, but the truth is I didn’t
really care. I had to see my wife. I needed to know that she was
okay. Moreover, I needed her to know that I had not forsaken her.
That I was going to do everything in my power to stop this from
happening.

And, now, here I was, downtown and just
around the corner from where I had been the night before while
waiting to wake up from this nightmare. From the looks of things,
it appeared I still hadn’t accomplished that task.

At this particular moment, I couldn’t
even remember which floor of the building I was on. In fact, I was
lucky that I could even recall that the address was on Tucker. All
that really stood out in my mind right now is that we had
gone
up
after being patted
down, wanded, and generally scrutinized by uniformed corrections
officers. However, I don’t think it was the frisking that was
responsible for my sudden attack of geographical amnesia. More than
likely it was the initial shock of seeing Felicity in her present
state.

Her red hair, which usually spiraled about
her soft face with fiery brilliance, was dull and limp. Down, it
would hang past her waist, but at the moment it was twisted,
wrapped, and tucked—sitting in a lifeless pile atop her head. While
it wasn’t that unusual for her to wear it in a Gibson-girlish coif,
I had to admit I was a bit surprised since she wasn’t allowed
anything with which to affix it in place. I suppose it was staying
up only by the grace of some bit of woman magick men can never
understand, let alone duplicate.

Her smooth ivory skin was blotchy and beyond
any definition of pale that came to my mind. Even ashen was too
delicate a word to describe the greyness that seemed to envelope
her.

Jade green irises, normally bright, were no
more than flat disks swimming in the centers of bloodshot whites.
They both stood out in contrast to the dark rings encircling her
sunken eyes.

She was totally devoid of makeup, and it
showed. It wasn’t as if she really ever wore that much to begin
with, but right now, unlike any other time, its absence was beyond
glaring.

Her petite frame was clad in a loose fitting,
sherbet orange jumpsuit, which was standard issue for inmates at
the facility. The unnaturally brilliant color did little to help
her altogether stark and sickly appearance.

Everything about the way she looked, right
down to the way she carried herself, told me she’d managed to get
no more rest than I had eked out of the long night. She looked
absolutely horrible, and I’m certain the expression on my face upon
first seeing her had betrayed at least that much.

Even so, to me, she still couldn’t be more
beautiful.

Unfortunately, just sitting here looking at
her wasn’t going to help either of us. We didn’t have all that much
time, and even less to waste. Court order or not, it wasn’t going
to be long before I was sent on my way by the guard on the other
side of the mirrored glass.

Jackie’s arrangement had specified what was
called a “contact visit”, something that might have been otherwise
impossible considering the severity of the charges against
Felicity. And, of course, somehow she had also managed to get them
to leave us more or less unchaperoned in the room. However, that
was as far as the indulgences went. Contact or not, the court order
wasn’t going to buy us any more time together than normal inmate
visits prescribed.

The charges themselves, although making the
arrangements for our visit a bit tricky, were actually working to
my wife’s advantage. For one thing, I had been told that she was
alone in her cell, as they were segregating her from the rest of
the “population” due to her alleged crimes. Basically, in order to
keep the petty thieves and DWI detainees safe, they weren’t about
to put an accused serial killer in direct contact with them without
close supervision. I was certainly glad of that, but for much the
opposite reason.

I continued watching my wife in silence
across the small table. I hadn’t yet replied to her urging, and I
wasn’t sure I could get away with the reticence for much longer.
Refusing to tell her now would only widen the unexplained rift that
seemed to have formed between us. The problem was, right now my
brain was just too sluggish to come up with a convincing lie
considering how I had started the earlier sentence.

“So, are you going to tell me, then?” she
asked again, pushing the silence aside.

Thus far, she’d had a tendency to stare into
space whenever she spoke, and that hadn’t changed. I also noticed
that she was still absently rubbing her red, swollen wrists where
the handcuffs had chafed and bruised them. I sincerely hoped those
marks hadn’t been left by Ben because if they had, he wouldn’t need
to invite the next punch.

I opened my mouth to speak, mumbled through a
false start, then offered up what I thought was a logical excuse,
as I tried one last shot at disentangling myself from the
self-inflicted mess. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I really
don’t want to upset you.”

“Too late, Rowan,” she replied. “Take a look
around. The police beat you to it.”

“You still don’t need any more to worry
about,” I told her with a shake of my head.

“And, you do?”

“No…” I replied quietly. “Neither of us
do.”

“Aye.”

“Yeah, but still…”

“Misery loves company. Go ahead. Tell me,
then.”

“You aren’t miserable enough as it is?”

“I think this is about as miserable as it
gets, Row.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“Go on, then. Quit avoiding the question.
Share.”

“Well…It’s nothing really…I’ve had a few
somewhat unpleasant conversations with your father since yesterday
morning.”

“Aye, I can’t say that I’m surprised by
that.”

“By the way, speaking of that…any insight on
the phrase ‘an rabe something-or-other’?”

“An riabhach
?”
she repeated, filling in the blanks.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Did he call you that?”

“That’s the gist I got. A couple of times for
sure. Of course, he’d already called me quite a few things I
already knew how to translate.”

“It’s been bad, then?”

“It hasn’t been pleasant. Although, he does
have a fairly predictable cycle. He calls, blames me for this,
calls me names, demands to know what I’m going to do to fix it but
doesn’t give me a chance to answer, then I hang up on him. Then he
calls back…lather, rinse, repeat.”

My attempt at levity didn’t provoke a
laugh, or even a smile. She simply sighed and slowly shook her
head. “Well, that phrase means,
the evil
one
.”

I gave her a half shrug. “Go figure.”

“Aye.”

“So, I guess the fact that he blames me for
this isn’t any big surprise either.”

“No, I don’t suppose it is, given the tension
between the two of you, then. But, you should just ignore him.
He’ll get over it.”

“Trying to. I’ve been letting the machine
grab the phone lately.”

“Good…so, is that what you thought was going
to upset me?”

“Yeah.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re lying. I can tell.”

I’d managed to bluff her in the past, but I
guess my acting skills were diminished by my emotional state, or my
exhaustion. Actually, it was probably due to both.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Okay, so there was
something else.”

“What?”

“Well, I guess I should consider it funny,
truthfully. Or, I suppose it could be if it weren’t so sad… Anyway,
what I started to tell you is that once this is all over Shamus
wants to have you deprogrammed.” I made the statement as calmly as
I could, considering that I was unable to find in it any of the
humor I had just espoused.

“That’s it?”

“That’s not enough?”

“Aye, he’s just wailing at whoever will
listen,” she said with a shake of her head. “My father has always
done that whenever he feels helpless. It’s just his way. You know
it’s not going to happen.”

“Maybe, but I’m not so willing to rule out an
attempt. I think he might be serious about this,” I offered after a
moment.

She shook her head again. “My mother will put
an end to it, never you mind.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Don’t you know by now, we O’Brien women are
the dominant type?”

“Yes, I do, but under the circumstances I
don’t think you should joke about that right now.”

“If I don’t joke about it, Rowan, I’ll just
be crying, then.”

“Yeah…” I mumbled.

“So,” she said, giving her head a sideways
nod toward my bruised knuckles without actually turning to look.
“When are you going to tell me what happened to your hand?”

I wasn’t sure she’d even noticed. She hadn’t
really looked at me since Jackie and I had arrived, at least, not
that I had seen. But, I wasn’t going to gripe about it just yet. We
now had a dialogue going and that was an improvement.

“Nothing really. An irresistible force met an
unmovable object.”

“Aye, so you were venting aggression, then.
Do we need a new door or just a patch job on a wall?”

“Neither. Ben’s jaw was the object.”

“Oh,
Caorthann
…” she muttered, using the Gaelic
version of my name. It was the first time since she’d entered the
room that she had seemed to show any real emotion at
all.

“Don’t worry about it. He asked for it.
Literally.”

“Don’t blame him, Rowan. This isn’t his
fault.”

“Yeah. He keeps saying the same thing.”

“He’s right.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Aye, you don’t believe he’s responsible for
this and you know it.”

“Responsible or not, he’s the one who led you
out of the house in handcuffs, and I’m afraid that’s going to take
a lot of forgiving on my part.”

“He was doing his job.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Rowan…”

“I have my reasons, honey,” I cut her off.
“Why don’t we move on to something else?”

I didn’t think it would be a good idea to let
her in on the fact that Ben wasn’t convinced of her innocence.
However, if we stayed on this subject, I was probably going to
screw up and tell her just that. For now, I felt it was better to
let her keep on believing he was one of the good guys. Maybe with a
little luck he would come around, and she’d never have to know
about his doubts.

“All right, then. What would you like to talk
about?”

She still wasn’t making eye contact with me,
and I knew that wasn’t good. However, since she’d seemed to open
up, I decided to push a little further.

“Your turn to share. Why don’t you tell me
what your problem is with me?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Look at me.”

“What?”

“Look at me, Felicity. You haven’t looked me
in the face since they brought you into the room.”

She sucked in a deep breath and slowly turned
her head the necessary fraction to meet my eyes, but only barely.
We held one another’s gaze for a long moment before I finally broke
the thick silence.

“Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?
Besides the obvious I mean.”

“Aye, what are you talking about then?”

“Felicity, something’s going on here that I’m
not being told. Jackie informed me last night that you don’t want
her discussing your case with me. Then, after she moved the world
to get me in here to see you today, we’re making small talk about
nothing, and I can hardly even get you to look at me. What’s going
on? Why are you shutting me out?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Give me a break, honey. Yes, you are. Hell,
a blind, deaf mute can tell what’s going on here. What I want to
know is why?”

“Aye, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, guess what? I do.”

“Well I don’t. Not now.”

“Dammit, Felicity!” I barked the reply as I
pushed back from the table and stood. “There isn’t time for this.
If I’m going to help you, I have to know what’s going on from all
sides. Cutting me off like this isn’t going to get either of us
anywhere. Least of all you.”

She didn’t even flinch at my minor outburst.
Her face remained stoic and eyes focused on where I had been
sitting. She didn’t even bring her gaze up to meet mine.

“Maybe there isn’t anywhere for me to get
to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe I’m already there.”

“Felicity, I definitely don’t like the sound
of this,” I said, a mix of confusion and anger in my voice. “What
are you trying to say?”

She dropped her head forward and stared down
at her wrists as she continued to gently rub them. Silence filled
the short void between us, and I continued to watch as her
shoulders seemed to droop even more than they had only moments
ago.

Finally, without looking up, she said, “I
spoke with Jackie about this last night. I was going to wait a bit,
but since you’re asking now…anyway…I’m…I’m thinking it might be a
good idea for you to file for divorce.”

If ever there was a sentence that could
qualify as a sucker punch, there it was, and the fact that Felicity
had just delivered it stunned me speechless. The force behind the
meaning of the word landed square in my gut, and then just for good
measure it backhanded me across the face. Of anything my wife could
have said to me, that was absolutely the last thing I ever
imagined. In fact, I hadn’t imagined it at all, that’s how far off
the chart it truly was.

I honestly didn’t know whether the air had
just evacuated from my lungs of its own accord or if I had simply
forgotten to breathe. What I did know was that my ears were
ringing, and the wearisome headache was ramping up a little more
with each and every heartbeat.