Harm None: A Rowan Gant Investigation (19 page)

“We have to stop this S.O.B.,” I told them.
“If doing this could keep him from killing someone else, then I
would never forgive myself if I didn’t go ahead with it. I don’t
think the two of you could either.”

They fell silent, first looking at me, then
each other, then back to me, and finally, to the floor.

“I’m going to go change shoes,” Felicity
eventually said. “If we’re going to do this, I plan on being as
comfortable as possible.” With that, she pulled the door open and
headed for the Jeep.

She had only been gone a few moments when Ben
broke his thoughtful silence. He broadcast his current state of
mind by smoothing back his hair and letting out a short sigh.

“Ya’know,” he spoke, holding his hand at the
back of his neck. “Even if you do ‘see’ somethin’, it’s
inadmissible as evidence. There’s no way I can trot you in to the
D.A. and say ‘here’s an eyewitness’... You realize that don’t
ya’?”

”I know,” I answered. “But if I see
something, and it gives us a clue or some place to start looking,
it’s worth the risk.”

“I can’t ask ya’ ta’ do this.”

“You’re not,” I told him. “I’m
volunteering.”

He shuffled about in place. “So, how long is
this gonna take?”

“If it all goes as planned, it shouldn’t take
more than ten minutes or so.”

“What can I do ta’ help?”

“Make sure no one disturbs us.” I paused for
a moment, and then added, “And I wouldn’t be opposed to you keeping
your fingers crossed.”

The door once again creaked open, and
Felicity reentered minus the pumps and sporting her aerobics
sneakers.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she told us as she
came through the door. “I know the shoes don’t match the outfit,
but they’re comfortable. So, how do you want to do this?”

“Ben,” I said as I turned back to him, “if
you’ll just watch the door and take notes if necessary...”

“You got it,” he replied, backing up to the
door and taking out his notebook.

I took a position near the washbasin and
motioned for Felicity to join me. I selected this point in the room
for its obvious proximity to the once-intact mirror. The simple
fact was that I wasn’t necessarily ecstatic about what I was going
to do either. I wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible, so
I planned to use every advantage available. If my idea worked,
physically positioning myself here would allow me to enter the
vision close to the point I wanted to see and then get out quickly,
before Karen Barnes took me into death with her.

“Simple cone,” I told my wife. “Raise it and
project a rope. One end of it should be around my waist, and you
should have the other end. I’ll try to stay with you, but if
necessary, I’m going to let myself fully immerse in the regression,
so it’s up to you to pull me out if you sense that I’m in
trouble...You gonna be able to handle this?”

“Let’s do it,” she replied, nodding in
assent.

We joined hands, left palm up, right palm
down. Felicity and I relaxed in unison, our breathing falling
easily into sync. We had cast many a circle together, just she and
I, and this process had become nothing if not automatic. We both
centered ourselves and grounded with the earth, feeling ethereal
forces swirl about us in an ever growing, ever tightening,
choreographed helix. Energy began flowing from her left arm and
into my right. It rushed throughout my body, coursing through
muscles, arteries, veins, and nerves, and worked its way around
until it completed the circuit, flowing out of my left arm and into
Felicity’s right. The connection continued, rapidly increasing
until the current appeared to us as a solid blur.

I began imagining a rope fixed securely about
my waist, the free end anchored here in the physical plane, held
fast by my wife. I knew she would be imagining something very
similar within her own mind as well. The image solidified, and it
was time for me to go.

“Are you ready?” I whispered.

“I’m ready,” Felicity answered, her own voice
held low.

“Do me a favor and don’t let go,” I told her,
then allowed my inner self to fall backwards into the void.

Colors came and went in a tumultuous
blizzard, much as they had when I had done this at Ariel’s
apartment. Sound slowed and faded, melting into the darkness, then
returned as a loud rushing in my ears. Light poured in and the
scene before me began to coalesce. It formed in harsh blacks and
whites, like a picture on a television screen with the contrast
turned to maximum. The brightness slowly dimmed, and color flooded
into the apparition until it achieved an appearance of something
just the other side of normal.

“
Buster, settle down,” her voice, my
voice, our voice was saying.

A Jack Russell terrier is dancing around our
ankles. We’re trying to sidestep him as he rings the leash around
our legs.

“
Buster, sit!” our voice orders the small
dog.

He sits and holds one paw up. He whines
lightly.

We’re turning on the water now. The handle
on the faucet squeaks. How many times have we heard that before?
It’s such a familiar sound. We’ve been here before. We are washing
our hands now; Buster is still whining.

A sound. The door is creaking; someone else
is coming in to use the restroom. We hope she doesn’t have a dog
with her; Buster will freak out. We’re turning off the water.
Buster is growling. She must have a dog with her.

“
Buster, stay!” our voice orders
him.

We’ll be out of here in just a second. DEAR
GOD, what’s happening? Let me go! What are you doing? We are
struggling. Someone has grabbed us from behind. Buster is barking.
Stop that! There is something over our face now. It smells strange.
Our ears are ringing. We’re weak. The room is getting dark.

Look in the mirror, Karen, I told her… or
myself… or whatever we had become.

He let go. We have to turn around. We have
to run. We’re falling. No, push up on the basin. The room is
spinning. Ouch, something stuck us on the arm. We’re pushing up on
the basin. Our knees are weak. We have to stand up. We’re looking
at the mirror. What is that over our shoulder? It’s moving. Who is
that?

I strained to see through Karen Barnes’ eyes
the reflection in the mirror. I concentrated and let myself enter
into the vision with all my being.

Darkness.

Silence.

My head is killing me, what happened? I
can’t move. This bed is hard. Light. I can see. Wait a minute. I’ve
been here before. This isn’t home, it’s...I can’t remember. I’ve
been here before though. Where’s Buster? Why can’t I move? My arms
are numb. I wish I could move them. What’s going on? Who am I?

Did I just see someone move? Who are you?
Where are you? Where am I?

What is that smell? It’s strange. I’ve never
smelled anything quite like it before. It’s like...It’s like
burning roses. My head is really killing me. Where’s Buster?

I’m in the park. I’m in the restroom in the
park! Now I remember. Someone grabbed me. My God, am I paralyzed?
Somebody help me.

Who am I? Karen? Yes, that’s it. I’m
Karen.

That movement again. I can hear something.
Something shuffling. What is it? Wait a minute. There’s something
over my mouth. Why is there something covering my mouth. A rapist.
I’m being attacked by a rapist! Please, somebody come in and help
me. Somebody stop him.

Where is my husband? He isn’t home yet.
Somebody help me. Where is Buster? My head is killing me. Please
somebody help me. Don’t let him rape me.

What is that? Something is on top of me. No,
SOMEONE is on top of me. What are you doing? Don’t rape me, please
don’t rape me. Why are you wearing that robe? What is that in your
hand? Your eyes, I can see your eyes. I’ve never seen eyes that
grey. They’re so cold.

NOooo!

He’s cutting me. My skin is on fire.

NOooo!

Pain. Pain beyond all.

Fear.

Darkness.

What is that tugging at me? Who am I? Karen?
No, that’s not right, Karen’s dead...If Karen is dead then who am
I? There’s that tugging again. It’s coming from my waist. A rope.
I’m tied to a rope. Who is that? She’s pretty. What beautiful red
hair she has. What is that she’s saying? I can’t hear you. Speak
louder. Do you know who I am? Are you the one that is pulling on
the rope?

Falling.

Darkness.

Light.

He’s still on top of me. How long was I
passed out? It couldn’t have been long if he’s still here. Dear God
I hurt. My chest is burning. What is that pressure? Why is this
happening? Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy
kingdom come…NOooo!

Pain.

Ouch! What are you doing? It hurts when you
pull on that rope so hard. I’ve seen you before. You have such
pretty hair. What? You want me to come to you? Why? Do you know who
I am? I thought I was Karen but Karen is dead. Why are you so
upset? I’m very tired. Maybe I should just go to sleep.

Darkness.

Light.

Fear.

Pain.

Terror.

Darkness. Cold, endless darkness.

I was intrigued by the sight before me. I
wasn’t entirely sure how I was managing to float above it in mid
air, but I was comfortable, and the mechanics of it were the
farthest thing from my mind. Ben and Felicity were kneeling on the
floor, and my friend was checking the pulse on a body sprawled
between them. They looked very grim and seemed upset.

“
Rowan, follow my voice.”

I heard my wife call to me, but I never saw
her lips move. I wondered why she couldn’t see me; I was floating
right above her.

“He hasn’t got a pulse!” Ben exclaimed. “I’m
going to start CPR.”

“Who hasn’t got a pulse?” I thought. I needed
to see whom they were huddled over.

“No!” Felicity told him. “Not yet, this isn’t
what you think it is.”

“
Rowan, I know you’re there. I’m pulling
the rope as hard as I can. Help me! Follow my voice.”

Once again, Felicity’s melodious voice echoed
in my ears, but her lips never parted. I floated a little closer. I
had to see who was lying on the floor between them.

“Are you fucking nuts, Felicity?” Ben
exclaimed loudly. “He’s dying! His fucking heart stopped
beating!”

“Dammit Ben,” she shot back at him wildly. “I
know what I’m doing, and your interruptions aren’t helping!”

“
Rowan! Help me dammit! Follow my
voice!”

Ben jerked back in surprise from my wild-eyed
wife. I don’t think he had ever truly experienced her temper until
now. I looked down between them as the space opened enough for me
to see. The body on the floor had a very familiar face. Brown hair.
Bearded. A small scar on his forehead. Exactly like a scar I had on
my own forehead. It slowly dawned on me that I was looking at
myself.

“
Rowan!”

There was a sharp tug at my waist.

I began falling.

White noise filled my ears. I felt a sharp
burst of pain through my chest, and I began hungrily gasping for
air. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Ben and Felicity staring
back at me. Ben shook his head as if he had just witnessed a
miracle and let out a long sigh. Felicity’s lips parted in a slight
smile as she stroked my forehead.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“Thanks for not letting go,” I whispered.

T
he
hot, bright sun flooded the landscape, beating down upon us from
the clear sky and broiling the last drops of moisture from the
ground. By late afternoon, no one would be able to tell that it had
rained the night before. I was sitting on the back of Felicity’s
Jeep drinking the remains of a lemon-flavored sport drink she had
kept in her gym bag. The drink was hot and tasted horrible. Its
acidic tang slightly burned the back of my tongue and my throat as
I swallowed. I had tried to refuse the beverage; my wife however,
insisted I drink it all in order to replenish the electrolytes in
my body.

My eyes were still adjusting to the glare as
I watched Ben and Felicity in silence. I remembered the entire
incident clearly. The two of them were shuffling about nervously,
making it a point to avoid one another, not saying a word or even
making eye contact. Every now and then one of them would ask me how
I was doing, and Ben even asked me several times if he should take
me to the hospital. I finished the last of the sport drink with a
gulp and screwed the lid tightly back onto the plastic container
then tossed it over my shoulder into the rear of the Jeep.

“Are you two going to kiss and make up?” I
finally asked.

Ben and Felicity both stopped in their tracks
and looked at me suspiciously.

“Yeah,” I told them. “I heard you two snap at
each other. I may not have been in my body at the time, but I was
in the room.”

“So look,” Ben started, looking down at the
ground. “I’m not really used to this kinda stuff, Felicity.
I...”

“Aye, you don’t have to say it, Ben,”
Felicity interrupted. “We were both on edge. If we should be mad at
anyone, it’s him.” She motioned to me. “Not each other.”

“Wait a minute,” I protested. “I wasn’t
involved in your little spat.”

“I beg to differ,” my wife informed me. “Just
exactly who was laying in there with no pulse? I told you it was
dangerous.”

“She’s right, Rowan,” Ben chimed in. “I
thought you were dead, and for what?”

“Grey eyes,” I told them.

“Excuse me?” Felicity intoned.

“Grey eyes,” I repeated. “The killer has got
grey eyes. I saw them.”

“So you actually did see somethin’?” Ben
queried as he flipped out his ever-present notebook.