Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (27 page)

“So you think maybe there’s some kinda cult
operatin’ in the area?”

I shook my head. “I really don’t know, Ben.
Unfortunately I’m just as confused by all this as the rest of you.
But I have trouble believing there is a whole mob involved in the
killing. Two killers, I can wrap my head around. But several
killers working in conjunction, I just don’t see it.”

“Or maybe you just don’t wanna…”

“You know, Ben, as much as I hate to admit it, you
may be right about that.”

“Yeah, I was afra…”

Another knock sounded at the treatment room door,
and this time the ER doctor who had been assigned to my case
entered. When he saw Ben standing there, a look of annoyance
screwed itself onto his face.

“We don’t really allow…” he began.

Ben slipped his badge case from an inner jacket
pocket then quickly flashed his shield and ID inches from the
doctor’s nose. “You were saying?”

“Is there a problem, Officer?” the doctor asked,
taking a step back.

“Not really,” Ben replied as he tucked the case back
into his pocket. “And, by the way, that’s Detective.”

“My apologies.”

“That’s okay. I thought you were a nurse,” Ben
replied then continued speaking before the doctor could say
anything. “So, here’s the deal. Rowan is one of our civilian
consultants, and he happens ta’ be helpin’ us with a fairly
important case right now. I just needed to talk to ‘im.”

“I see,” the doctor said with a curt nod. “You know
the sarcasm was completely unnecessary.”

“Go have yourself half the day I’ve already had,
then come tell me that,” my friend returned without missing a
beat.

Rather than argue, the doctor turned his attention
to me. “How are you feeling, Mister Gant?”

“Confused, hungry, and a little tired, pretty much
in that order,” I replied. “How about you?”

“Confused?” he asked.

“No need to write it down, Doc, it’s not a symptom,”
I told him. “It’s just something we were discussing about the case
is all.”

He nodded and said, “I see,” again. He didn’t sound
particularly happy about anything at the moment, but I couldn’t
really tell if that was his natural demeanor or if Ben had set him
off by sticking a badge in his face and generally being an ass.

“So, what’s the prognosis?” I asked.

“At the moment your vitals are stable,” he replied
while looking through a file. “Your blood work appears normal… I am
however, a bit concerned that we haven’t yet been able to pinpoint
the actual source of your blood loss.”

“You won’t,” I told him.

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s a long story you wouldn’t believe even if I
told you.”

He repeated his pat phrase. “I see. Well, I’d like
to admit you for some tests anyway.”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be
able to do that.”

“Mister Gant, it’s important that you realize the
risk this could pose. If you are bleeding internally…”

“I’m not,” I said, cutting him off and waving at my
neck. “Remember? All the blood was on the outside.”

He sighed hard. “What is it going to take to
convince you to stay overnight for some tests?”

“Nothing you have, I’m afraid,” I told him.
“Seriously, you aren’t going to find anything.”

The doctor turned and looked past Ben at Felicity.
“Miz Gant… Can you talk to your husband?”

She didn’t correct him on
the
faux pas
with
her name. She simply shook her head and shrugged. “What makes you
think he’ll listen to me then?”

The doctor closed his eyes and hung his head for a
moment before giving it a shake and letting out another sigh.
“Fine. I can’t make you stay against your will,” he said then
checked the nearly depleted IV bag hanging above me. “But, I do
want you to stay until we get the rest of this fluid into you. That
will take maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. Can you spare that much
time?”

“Okay,” I agreed with a nod.

“I’ll get your paperwork taken care of and then you
can go. I’d like to suggest that you get some rest and stay
hydrated. Avoid alcohol, coffee, soda, and caffeinated beverages.
Drink water and apple juice instead. I would also like for you to
take an iron supplement. An over-the-counter one will do.”

I nodded again. “Okay.”

He continued. “If you experience any extreme
fatigue, headaches, heart palpitations, or especially any more
bleeding, get yourself into an emergency room right away.”

“I can do that,” I replied.

He scribbled something on the chart then stepped
around Ben and exited the treatment room without another word. It
was obvious he wasn’t happy with the way the conversation had gone,
but I was convinced he’d get over it quickly enough. There was
bound to be someone coming through the doors at some point who
needed his attention far worse than me.

While we were waiting for the IV bag to run out, Ben
looked over at Felicity and said, “I s’pose now wouldn’t be a good
time ta’ say I told ya’ so, huh?”

“I told you so about what?” she asked.

“Ya’know, the sayin’ a poem thing
with the salt before Row did the
Twilight
Zone
thing.”

“Aye, you’re right.” She nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I thought you might’ve wanted ta’…”

She cut him off mid sentence. “I mean you’re right
that it isn’t a good time.”

“Yeah, okay, but I did tell you so.”

“Ben…” she warned. “I’d hate to have to turn you
into a cockroach and step on you.”

He snorted and gave her a bemused look. “Yeah right,
gimme a break. Remember who you’re talkin’ to here. I’ve been
around long enough to know the hocus-pocus shit doesn’t work like
that.” He glanced over at me. “Right, Kemosabe?”

I shook my head. “You know, Ben, you might want to
be careful. After what she managed to pull off back at the morgue,
I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

“You ain’t serious, right?”

“About which part?” I asked.

He let out a nervous chuckle then mumbled, “Yeah,
great… Okay…” After a long pause, he cleared his throat while
reaching up to give the back of his neck a quick massage. “So,
listen… I know you’re just fuckin’ with me, but at the risk of
endin’ up on the bottom of Firehair’s shoe anyway, I need to ask
ya’ somethin’… The powers that be wanted ta’ know if you’d take
another run at this.”

“What?!” Felicity almost yelped.
“Are they
fekking
insane?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, holding up his hand to stave
her off. “I told ‘em I’d ask, but I also told ‘em not ta’ count on
it. So, no pressure from me here at all. Believe me.”

As soon as a lull fell between them I spoke up.
“Yeah. Tell them no guarantees, but I’ll give it a try.”

“Rowan…” Felicity admonished.

“Hey… Row…” Ben chimed in, shaking his head. “Like I
said, I told ‘em to expect a no.”

“So they’ll be pleasantly surprised, and maybe
you’ll score some brownie points.”

“That ain’t what this is about,” he insisted.

“I know that,” I replied. “But I also know—and both
of you do too—that until we solve this, Emily Foster’s spirit isn’t
going to leave me alone. I can bleed there with a doctor on hand,
or I can bleed at home without one. Either way, it’s pretty obvious
that it’s going to happen whether I like it or not.”

“Aye, maybe not. I think she got the point earlier,”
Felicity objected.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said with a nod. “Who knows?
But where does that leave Judith Albright?”

“Damn your eyes,” Felicity conceded.

“Sorry.”

“Okay, you’re right,” she offered. “But before you
try this again, we take more precautions.”

“Agreed. What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe you oughta go ahead and say a poem first this
time,” Ben interjected.

My wife shot him a death glare but didn’t take the
bait. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” she said as she looked back
to me.

“Well, we have a little time to think about that,” I
told her. “Because before we do anything I need to eat.”

“Yeah, I could definitely eat,” Ben said with a nod.
“You wanna grab somethin’ at Forty’s, or would ya’ rather keep your
distance from the morgue until you’re ready?”

“I don’t really care as long as it’s someplace that
serves liver and onions,” I replied.

“Liver? Jeez… I dunno how you eat that shit.”

“With a knife and fork,” I quipped.

“Yeah, real funny, Row,” he returned. “I mean it
tastes like crap.”

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, but I admit I
don’t usually crave it like I am today.”

“You’re cravin’ the stuff? Hmmph.
Well maybe it’s leftover
Twilight
Zone
screwin’ up your taste
buds.”

“Why do you say that?”

He shrugged and gave me a thoughtful nod. “Oh yeah,
I don’t guess I told you about that yet. Doc Sanders is still
waitin’ on the labs, but she did get a read back on Emily Foster’s
stomach contents. Looks like her last meal was beef liver.”

* * * * *

As I’d predicted earlier, we found ourselves at the
Metro Diner because it was the closest establishment in the
downtown area that could accommodate my sought after menu
selection. Ben’s recently shared revelation had actually taken the
edge off my craving, most likely because he was correct in his
assumption that there was an ethereal element to it, and Emily
Foster’s last meal was the culprit at the root.

Still, even with my desire for the dish having been
substantially dampened, I had worked up a taste for it. Besides,
the doctor wanted me to take an iron supplement, and liver was
loaded with the stuff.

As it turned out, I wasn’t disappointed. The liver
was fork tender and swimming in gravy with a generous helping of
caramelized onions sitting on top. The mashed potatoes were lumpy
just like homemade, and the pile of buttered green peas next to
them was a culinary imperative.

Something was finally going my way for a change,
which was a good thing because deep down I knew this sudden stroke
of luck wasn’t going to last.

“You get enough?” Ben asked, giving me a quick
nod.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I couldn’t eat another
bite.”

He shook his head. “I still dunno how you can eat
that crap ta’ begin with.”

“To each their own,” I said with a shrug. “I like
it.”

“Yeah, well we already knew there was somethin’
wrong with ya’. That’s just more proof.”

We were still sitting in a booth at the Metro,
Felicity and I on one side, Ben on the other. We had arrived well
after the lunch rush, and the dinner rush was still around an hour
away yet, so the diner was only around half full. Still, given that
our conversations tended to take unexpected turns, my friend had
asked them to seat us back in the corner away from the rest of the
patrons.

“What about you, Firehair?” He glanced over at
Felicity.

Half her Reuben was already stuffed into a Styrofoam
carton and was sitting on the table in front of her.

“Aye,” she returned, nodding toward the container.
“And lunch tomorrow.”

“So I guess I’m the only one thinkin’ about those
pies behind the counter?” he asked.

“You’re on your own,” she told him.

“What she said,” I echoed.

He glanced at his watch and from the look on his
face did some mental calculating. Finally he mumbled, “Aww hell,
why not…”

A second later he flagged down our waitress and
ordered a slice of the coconut cream.

“So, other than you trying to backfill that
bottomless pit you call a stomach, what’s the grand plan?” I
asked.

“Whaddaya mean?”

“Well, I know I’m the one who insisted we eat first,
but we seem to be ignoring the gorilla, if you know what I
mean.”

“Hey, you tell me,” he grunted then wagged his
finger between us. “You two were s’posed ta’ be figurin’ out your
precautions. I’m just along for the ride.”

I turned to look at Felicity. “I don’t know that we
really need any. You seemed to handle things just fine
earlier.”

“Yes I did,” she replied. “But that doesn’t mean I’m
comfortable with not having something to back me up.”

“Backup’s a good thing,” Ben agreed.

“Of course it is,” I said. “But, I’m not sure what
it would be in this case. I definitely don’t want to drag anyone
else into this.”

Felicity nodded vigorously. “Aye, I agree with you
there.”

“Not ta’ change the subject, but how you feelin’
anyway, Row?” Ben asked.

I turned back to my friend. “Fine, why?”

He shrugged with his eyebrows. “Just wonderin’. I
couldn’t help but notice that ever since the hospital, you haven’t
had your face all pinched up like normal.”

“My face what?” I asked.

He waved his hands and shook his head. “Not normal
normal… I mean like the normal when you’re havin’ a la-la land
headache… Ya’ don’t have that crease in your face that usually
comes along with ‘em.”

“Oh… Well… You know, I hadn’t thought about it,” I
replied. “Actually, my head feels fine for a change.”

“That could be another problem then,” Felicity
chimed in.

I glanced her direction once again. “What do you
mean?”

“I banished Emily Foster,” she said. “She might be
gone for good.”

“You left that spell open ended enough to summon her
back though.”

“True, but you know as well as I do there’s still no
guarantee she’ll come.”

“As pissed as you sounded?” Ben interjected. “I
wouldn’t if I was her, ghost or not.”

“Really?” Felicity scoffed. “It’s never seemed to
stop you before.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “Me, cockroach, squish.
I get it. Honestly I think you just take a perverse pleasure in
givin’ me a hard time.”