Perfect Trust: A Rowan Gant Investigation (21 page)

I called on Rowan; they said he was the
best.

They told me, “Go see Rowan,” and forget
about the rest.

I called on Rowan, because I was afraid,

But all he seems to want, is to get himself
laid.

Dead I am, yes, dead today,

Will Rowan find my killer?

Hell no! Not this way.

* * * * *

I awoke more exhausted than I’d been when I
had crawled into bed next to Felicity. According to the clock
almost seven hours had passed, but considering how I was feeling it
might just as well have been seven minutes. I remained perfectly
still, watching until the numerals on the face of the digital
timepiece incremented forward enough times to make it officially
noon. Of course, since my wife had a penchant for setting clocks a
bit fast to avoid being late, it was more like quarter till.

A small voice rattled about between my
ears—singing a song or reciting a poem, I wasn’t entirely sure. I
couldn’t actually make out the words, and the echo was so faint
that I had no choice but to conclude that I was imagining
things.

Still, something about it seemed intimately
familiar.

My head was throbbing with a dull ache. Not
enough to be debilitating but more than enough to get my attention.
All in all, annoying, and something that I hoped would disappear in
the very near future.

After a moment, I started to sit up on the
side of the bed and found myself bound in a wild tangle of sheets.
When I finally managed to extricate myself, I wearily twisted my
fists in my eyes to force the sleep away. I threw a slack-jawed
glance over my shoulder and saw that the bed linens were in a
chaotic jumble. One of us must have done some serious tossing and
turning, and I presumed that I was the guilty party.

Taking in a deep breath, I started to let out
a sigh but was greeted instead by a grating cough. My throat was
dry and felt a bit raw. Following the bout of hacking and
sputtering, I wheezed in a deep breath and felt it rattle in my
chest.

My hand automatically reached for the
nightstand and pawed about, coming up empty. At first I really
didn’t even know what I was looking for, then it dawned on me.

Cigarettes.

I stared quietly at the floor and picked
through the mild twinges in the back of my skull. Reality was
setting in and I summoned a bit of concentration before sending it
on a quest for memories of the previous night. A quick inventory
told me there didn’t appear to be anything new to add to the
nonsensical list.

The one good thing—or bad, depending upon
your take—that came to mind was that I hadn’t had any nightmares.
At least, I didn’t think I had. Something still didn’t feel right
though, and I definitely wasn’t catching on to what it was.

“Good morning,” Felicity greeted the back of
my head from the doorway. “Or should I say, afternoon, then?
Finally decided to join the rest of the world?” Her voice still
held a heavier than normal Celtic lilt, and that told me that she
must not have slept any better than I had.

“Uh-huh,” I grunted then forced out a
scratchy query while thrusting a finger over my shoulder. “Is that
clock right?”

“Close enough,” she returned as she ventured
farther into the room and made her way around the end of the bed.
“Right as it ever is.”

“Damn,” I muttered, “I sure don’t feel like I
got seven hours of sleep.”

She laughed, “As it was I only got four
myself. What makes you think you’d be gettin’ that much more than
me, then?”

Now I was even more befuddled. “We went to
bed around five a.m., right?”

“Aye.”

I didn’t say anything else. The comment
seemed self-explanatory to me.

“Well?” I finally said.

“Well, what?” she answered as she tugged the
bed linens off into a pile on the floor.

“Well, noon minus five,” I offered through my
haze, “comes out to around seven. In my head anyway.”

“It does at that,” she replied as she hooked
an arm around my neck and slid into my lap. Her hair was still
slightly damp from her shower and she smelled faintly of roses. The
sweet scent tickled my nose as she leaned in to kiss my cheek then
whisper, “And I told you then that we should be spending it
sleeping. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

I was just about to ask her to explain what
she meant when the various pieces of the equation started to fall
into place. What had been unidentified variables up until now
became known quantities. When the values were added up, the
undeniable final product was obviously a prolonged and intense
sexual encounter.

Unfortunately, it was one to which I was
completely oblivious. Fortunately, I had enough wits about me to
know better than to say so, at least until I figured out why.

“Oh, yeah, that,” I lied for effect.

“I’m loving you a whole bunch right now,” my
wife whispered softly.

“Yeah, me too,” I said while searching my
memory for the slightest inkling of the recent passion and finding
none. “Me too.”

Behind my quiet façade, confusion opened the
door then politely invited fear to come on in and make itself at
home.

It didn’t hesitate to accept.

“I really appreciate you working me into your
schedule like this,” I told Helen Storm as we both sidled up to the
balcony railing of the outdoor smoking lounge. “I know you’re very
busy.”

Felicity hadn’t objected in the least when I
begged off from helping clean the house in order to attend a
hastily scheduled visit with Doctor Storm. Had it been for any
other reason, I doubt I would have made it as far as the front door
before she started spouting Gaelic. I still hadn’t told my wife
about my amnesia regarding our intimacy, and I wasn’t sure if I
would. I wasn’t even positive that I was going to tell Helen about
it just yet, even though it was the catalyst for the sudden
appointment. Quite a bit was going to depend upon what conclusions
were reached over the next hour.

“It was no problem, Rowan,” she answered.

“Well, I felt bad about calling you on such
short notice.”

“You should not. That is what I am here
for.”

“Even so,” I expressed, “I hate coming off as
some sort of needy flake.”

“You need not worry about that. It was not my
perception in the least. Really, Rowan, it was a light day for me
anyway, and it was quite obvious that something was troubling
you.”

I suspected that there had been more to
rearranging her schedule than she let on. “Well, I still appreciate
it.”

“I know you do, so stop beating yourself up
about it. Truth is, I cannot really say that I was surprised to
hear from you,” she offered gently. “Benjamin called me early this
morning.”

“So is he really that worried about me?”

“Yes he is, but please do not get the
impression that he is checking up on you or trying to interfere in
your life. He was actually calling me about getting together on
Christmas Eve. I could tell he had something else on his mind
though, so I pried it out of him.”

“I’ve discovered over the years that’s not
always an advisable task with Ben.”

“No,” she mused. “Not even for a friend who
is as close to him as you are. But being the older sister who has
acted as his confidant for more years than she cares to
acknowledge, I can get away with it.”

“I see.” I nodded. “So what did he tell
you?”

“Not much in the way of details really. Just
that you had experienced one of your psychic episodes last night
and that you were not displaying your usual clarity in that
regard.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“He alluded that it was something very out of
character for you,” she agreed with a nod.

“I’m not usually this befuddled, no.”

“That is what worries him most, I
believe—your wife as well. They are concerned that this confusion
might interfere with your judgment and, if so, your safety.”

I knew exactly what she meant and offered the
unspoken evidence. “Just like it did when I chased Eldon Porter out
onto that bridge. Yeah, we’ve been down that road a couple of times
already.”

“Then you know that they are merely
expressing concern for a loved one. You.”

“I know.” I nodded. “I know… But it still
doesn’t make things any easier to deal with. Sometimes it just
makes me feel…like…”

I struggled to find any word or phrase that
could accurately describe my feelings, but none were
forthcoming.

“Diminished?” Helen offered.

“Yes. Exactly. Like they feel as though I’m
incapable of making my own decisions.”

“So what about those decisions?”

“What do you mean?”

“With everything we have discussed so far,”
she explained, “it all seems to come back to Eldon Porter and the
decisions you made then.”

“It was a bad situation,” I said.

“From what little both you and Benjamin have
told me, it sounds like it was a royally fucked up situation.”

I was momentarily taken aback by the single
spoken vulgarity coming from Helen Storm. Her soothing demeanor and
calm voice made the expletive stand out even more against the
backdrop of her words—effectively framing it and making it the
succinct and perfect description of the situation. But it was
perfect only as she said it. Had the same statement been made by
anyone else, it would have simply been an observation punctuated by
profanity.

I already liked her, but the stark humanness
of the expression ingratiated her to me even more.

“Yes,” I agreed. “Yes it was.”

“What about the decisions you made during
that case? Were they as well?”

“Depends on who you ask. Ben thinks I was
lacking in my judgment, that’s for sure. And Felicity has it in for
Ben and me both where that is concerned.”

“I am not asking them,” she submitted. “I am
asking you.”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged and took a hit
from my cigarette before crushing it out. I stripped the butt then
discarded the filter and paper in a nearby trash receptacle before
continuing. “I did what I thought I needed to do. In retrospect, I
suppose chasing after a serial killer in the middle of the night,
alone, probably wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Why do you think you felt you had to do
it?”

“I didn’t want him to get away.” I gave her a
statement of fact as I saw it.

“Are you certain that is why?”

I wasn’t sure where she was headed with this,
but I feared I was soon going to find out.

“Fairly certain,” I answered. “You think I
might have had another reason?”

“I am merely curious,” she returned. “Could
you not have simply called the police and notified them? Surely
they were better equipped to handle the situation than you.”

“Do you think I was grandstanding?” I asked
her. “Attention seeking?”

“I did not say that.” She shook her head.
“But in answer to your question, no. That is not what I think. I am
simply asking why you did not call the police instead of going
after him yourself.”

“I didn’t think there was enough time.”

“Again, are you certain? The Briarwood police
station is not that far from your house, is it?”

“Done some research, have you?” I
queried.

“A little,” she said.

“Well, I did tell Felicity to call Ben and
have him call me on my cell phone.”

“But you still chased after Eldon Porter on
your own.”

“Okay. Right now, given my current state, I
might be a bit denser than normal, but I can see that you have a
different idea about this. I just haven’t figured out what it is.
Would you like to share?”

“No,” she shook her head again. “Not
really.”

“Excuse me?”

“What I think is not the point, Rowan.
What
is
the point is what
your motivation for that decision actually was at the time. Only
you know that answer, and me telling you my theory will not help,
whether I am correct or not. You have to reach the conclusion on
your own.”

“So, no offense, but I’m paying you so that I
can reach my own conclusions?”

“No,” she smiled. “You are paying me to help
you navigate unfamiliar terrain in order to work toward those
conclusions. Just consider me a docent for your psyche.”

I let out a quiet chuckle. “So you’re
basically an expensive tour guide.”

“Something like that, but I am not allowed to
accept tips.”

“You know, you really aren’t what I expected
from a shrink.”

“I should hope not,” she laughed
musically.

The mood lightened for a moment as we stood
there. Helen waited patiently for me to continue, without
prompting, and allowed me to observe where she had taken us.
Something in me wanted to rush along to the next exhibit buried
deeper within my mind, seeking out the answer that would make
everything right—the panacea that would return normalcy to my life.
But, I knew deep down that no such cure existed. Obviously, so did
she.

Still, she wasn’t about to budge and remained
steadfast in her silence. I apparently hadn’t seen everything I was
meant to see here.

“I know I wasn’t very grounded at the time I
made that decision,” I finally said with a sigh. “And I really
haven’t been ever since. That has certainly become a problem for me
now.”

“Hence your lack of focus?”

“There’s another understatement,” I
confessed. “I’m just this side of legally blind, I think.”

“I doubt you are as bad as that,” she
said.

“I don’t know,” I contended. “I feel like I’m
trapped on the inside looking out, and it’s midnight with a new
moon, clouds, and a power outage.”

“That could be an important milestone.”

“What? Like I’m a prisoner of my own
failings?”