All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation (37 page)

She hadn’t been able to summon the courage to
go in search of me, primarily for fear of what she might find.
Having taken that first set of crime scene photos herself, she knew
first hand the sadism Miranda was capable of exhibiting. To her,
the thought of finding me dead and most likely mutilated,
especially if it was by her own hand, was more than she could bear
to witness. Instead, she had simply stood there in a state of shock
for several minutes. By the time I returned to the room and found
her on the floor clinging to the photograph of the two of us, the
psychological damage had been done.

I only came to find out an hour or so later
that when she first heard my voice, she had automatically assumed
it was inside her head and that I was calling to her from the other
side of the darkened veil.

I sucked the remaining portion of the
cigarette into my lungs and then dropped the smoldering butt into a
sand-filled can nearby. Shaking my head as I huffed out the smoke,
I muttered to no one but myself, “Oh well, so much for thinking
about something else.”

I pulled the pack from my pocket and gave it
a glance. It had been around three-quarters full when I snagged it
from the nightstand. Now it was down to four left. I fished one
out, stuck it between my lips and tucked the pack away as I sent my
other hand in search of the lighter.

“That does not look to me like your usual
brand, Rowan.” Helen’s voice floated out from across the balcony,
and I looked up to see her coming toward me, the glass door already
levering shut on its hydraulic piston.

“Where’s Felicity?” I asked as I pulled the
cigarette from my mouth.

“She is in my office, resting. Don’t
worry.”

“But, should she really be alone?”

“Don’t worry, Rowan. As I said, she is
resting.”

“What did you do? Dope her up?”

“We usually frown on that terminology, but
yes. I gave her a tranquilizer.”

“I guess it pays to have both the sheepskins,
huh?”

“I prefer to work patients through with
analysis and therapy, but yes, being able to prescribe medication
comes in handy, and is sometimes necessary.”

“Okay,” I finally sighed in resignation then
looked at the smoke I was holding in my hand. I waved it absently
and added, “It’s just stress.”

She shook her head, pulling a cigarette case
from her own coat pocket. “You need not make excuses to me. I am
not about to preach to you on the evils of smoking, you should know
that.”

I grunted acknowledgement and offered her my
lighter, flicking it and cupping my hand around the flame. She set
her smoke alight then gave me a nod as she sidled over to the
railing a few steps away.

“So,” I began after lighting my own. “How is
she?”

“Disturbed,” she replied succinctly.

“No offense, but I think I already had that
nailed down,” I replied. “The question is, how disturbed?”

“Enough to warrant concern, but not enough
for you to get yourself overly worked up.”

“You’re being ambiguous, Helen.”

“Yes, I know I am. Unfortunately, Rowan, I
know of no other way to put it. Your wife is a very strong
individual, however, for a period of time early this morning she
truly believed that she had murdered you. The simple thought that
she could be capable of such an act has affected her very
deeply.”

“She isn’t,” I objected. “Her body was being
used by a spirit. Hell, she wasn’t even in it.”

“She is aware of that, Rowan,” Helen
explained. “However, our psyches are inextricably connected with
our bodies. We are what we see and perceive ourselves to be. It is
one of the things that sets us apart from other animals—the ability
to look in a mirror and recognize ourselves. To be self-aware. In
Felicity’s mind, whether she was in control or not, it was her body
that was inflicting the harm, and therefore it is she who is
ultimately responsible.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“For you, perhaps, but you must understand
that even though you have been through your own tribulations, you
have not directly experienced that which she faced. You might well
think differently if you were to switch places with her.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know about
that.”

“Believe me, this is not something we need
debate at this time. It is nothing more than speculation at best.
The tables cannot be turned. The events simply are what they are.
And, because of them, at this moment in time your wife is quite a
bit more fragile than you are accustomed to seeing her.”

“Okay, no debate. But, is she going to be
okay?”

“Yes, eventually.”

“Eventually?”

“The amount of healing she requires doesn’t
occur overnight, Rowan,” she offered, then shifted slightly and
cocked her head to the side in a thoughtful pose. After a moment
she continued, “Now, I am certainly no expert on this possession
phenomenon…”

“It really happened, Helen,” I
interrupted.

“I am not doubting that. Please, let me
finish. As I said, I am no expert on the subject, however, I
suspect from what you have told me about it that such an event,
especially when it comes in such an unexpected manner, is truly at
the root of the issue. When combined with the physical demands and
the apparent literal separation of the Id from the individual, I
can only surmise that the primary psychological fallout begins
there. Her actions while possessed are rising to the surface as
horrors for her, however, the trigger is the feeling of
disassociation.”

“Acting as a horse for a
Lwa
takes some getting used to, as I
understand it,” I said with a nod.

“I think that would be putting it mildly,
Rowan.”

“Yeah, well I suppose I’m trying not to think
about it too hard right now.”

“I can understand that, however, on top of
the mild hysteria over knowing she severely harmed you, Felicity is
exhibiting the classic symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Many of the emotions she described over the past hour when
recounting this most recent event readily associate to the same
feelings she experienced after the first possession.”

“Okay,” I shrugged. “That only stands to
reason, right?”

“Yes, Rowan, however what I am trying to say
is that in her case the effects are obviously cumulative, and I am
not at all surprised. One either faces a severe stressor that
triggers the PTSD, or the anxiety and negative experiences build up
until the individual can no longer tolerate them. Felicity falls
into that second category. Simply look at everything the woman has
been through in the past few weeks. The fact is, I am truly amazed
that she held up as well as she has.”

I waited a moment then gave her a nod. “Yeah,
well like you said. She’s got one hell of a strong will.”

“Fortunately, yes,” she agreed. “For the both
of you.”

“Another issue that seems to be weighing on
her heavily is something with regard to a sister. Are you able to
shed any light on that?”

“Just that she doesn’t have one that I know
of.”

“Yes, she said that she did not, but then she
would always come back to an issue about a sister. She was never
very clear on the point.”

My brain kicked in and cut through the fog of
the most recent events, bringing our conversation with Ben back
around to the forefront.

“You know, I guess it might have something to
do with the DNA tests,” I said. “Your brother mentioned that when
they got the samples that actually cleared her of the crime, the
tests came out so close that the lab believes the actual killer to
be a sibling.”

“Interesting.”

I nodded. “That’s one word for it.”

“Well, something about that has definitely
struck a chord for her.”

“Wish I could help you on that, but when Ben
mentioned it she was adamant about not having a sister.”

“I will take your word for it, however, I
think a talk with her parents may be in order.”

“I can give you their number, but as you
know, I’m not high on their list, so you’ll be on your own.”

“I am sure I can appeal to them without
bringing you into it.”

A short lull fell between us as we both took
a moment to digest the conversation.

“Okay, so what do I do now?” I asked, finally
breaking the silence. “Do I bring her in to see you every day?
Twice a day? Set up housekeeping for you in our guest room? Take
her on a vacation in the Bahamas? What? Just tell me and it’s
done.”

“That is part of what I came out here to
speak with you about, Rowan,” she replied, extracting a fresh
cigarette and lighting it from the dying ember of her previous
smoke.

“Okay, shoot.”

She exhaled a thoughtful sigh as she stared
out at the sparse wisps of clouds on the horizon. Her breath
steamed on the crisp air, and the silence that fell between us was
almost painful. I lit a fresh cigarette myself—using the task to
fill the glaring void she was leaving. I could tell that for once,
Helen wasn’t simply taking time choosing her words; she seemed to
be at a total loss for them.

Finally, I could wait no longer. “Helen?” I
queried. “What is it?”

She gave in to my question and turned toward
me. I took an immediate dislike to the expression she was
wearing.

“I am afraid there is simply no other way to
say this to you, Rowan,” she finally said. “Felicity has elected to
have herself voluntarily committed to a psychiatric hospital for
evaluation.”

“She what?” I stammered. “And you didn’t try
to talk her out of it?”

“No, Rowan,” she replied with a shake of her
head. “Actually, I am the one who suggested it.”

“I’m still not sure how I feel about this,
honey,” I said as I switched off the truck’s engine then sat back
in my seat.

I left the keys dangling from the ignition.
It was a conscious move, driven by a subconscious hope that my wife
would change her mind, and I would be able to simply restart the
vehicle and head for home.

Of course, I already knew I wasn’t going to
get my wish, but that wasn’t going to stop me from trying. I tilted
my head up and absently inspected the headliner because I knew
looking at Felicity was just going to make my heart ache even more
than it already did.

“I know,” she replied, voice flat and soft.
“But, it’s for the best.”

“I hope you’re right,” I answered, giving up
and turning my face toward her. She didn’t meet my gaze, instead
leaving her eyes directed out the passenger side window. I exhaled
heavily and added, “You know, you were just locked up in one
institution, and now here you are going into another. I don’t see
how that’s for the best.”

“This is different,” she replied. “I’m doing
it voluntarily.”

“Yeah, and that’s what makes it even more
disconcerting. You’re walking out of one cell and right into
another, all of your own accord.”

“This is a hospital, Rowan, not a
prison.”

“Yeah, I know it is. But it’s the kind with
padded walls, locked doors, and grim-faced nurses named after hand
tools.”

My attempt at bringing levity to the
situation fell flat, even for me.

After a moment she offered, “My insurance
will cover part of…”

“Gods, Felicity!” I cut her off, shaking my
head as my voice rose slightly. “That isn’t my point! It’s not the
money, you know that. I’ll spend whatever it takes.”

She remained silent.

I closed my eyes and reached up to rub my
forehead as I let out an embarrassed sigh. I hadn’t exactly lashed
out at her, but I knew my tone had been far less than patient.

“I’m sorry,” I almost whispered.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know you’re
stressed out too.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Maybe I need to check in
with you.”

I looked at the clock on the dash, and it
read a little past one in the afternoon.

“You know,” I said. “Technically, you’re
supposed to be at your parent’s house in less than an hour for
Thanksgiving dinner. Your brother is in town for it and
everything.”

“Aye,
we
are supposed to be there. Not just me.”

“Well, I figured after everything that’s
happened between your father and me…” I left the rest of the
sentence unspoken.

She shook her head gently. “No. I spoke to my
mother about that. You were expected too.”

“Okay,” I replied with a shrug. “Then what
are we doing here now? Why don’t we go get cleaned up and have
dinner? Maybe you’ll feel better after…”

“No, Rowan.”

“You’re going to miss Thanksgiving dinner?
With the O’Brien clan all together under one roof for a
change?”

“It’s not all of them, you know that.”

“Well, immediate family…and Austin is there.
That’s kind of a big deal unless I misunderstood.”

“I know that, and yes it is. But, I’ve no
choice in the matter.”

“So, you’re telling me you can’t at least put
this off until tomorrow?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Well, I don’t get it.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“Honestly, I still don’t understand why you
just can’t see Helen on a daily basis for a while.”

“Because that won’t do.”

“So, how is seeing her here instead of at her
office going to be any different?”

“The hospital will be safe.”

“Her office isn’t?”

“It’s not her office I’m worried about.”

“You don’t feel safe with me?”

“Aye, I do,” she whispered. “But you
don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, honey, that wasn’t a nothing sort
of comment. What are you trying to say?”

She sighed. I knew she was tired and still
feeling the effects of the tranquilizer Helen had given her a
couple of hours before. I hated to press her, but she was talking
in circles just like she had when she was being held at the Justice
Center. I could tell the wheels were in motion beneath her fiery
mane, I just didn’t know what it was that had them spinning so
fiercely.