Part 24 (1/2)
My first inclination was to tell her to let the machine get it. After all, it could very well be Shamus, or even the mystery caller who liked hanging up as opposed to talking. However, that odd feeling of urgency tickled the back of my brain and set me wondering just who might be at the other end of the line.
”Yeah,” I replied, never breaking my gaze.
She stepped around me, picking her way through the still trashed house as she headed for the bookshelves. At my back I heard her pick up the handset, cutting off the ringer in the middle of its clamor for attention.
Her voice replaced the bothersome noise a second later, ”Gant-O'Brien residence.”
There was expectant pause after her words, but it didn't last long at all. In fact, only a handful of heartbeats pa.s.sed before her voice spilled into the room again.
”My G.o.d... Are you okay?” she said. ”Where are you?”
I was still watching Austin, but I couldn't help noticing Ben perk up at the words. Turning his attention to look toward her, he asked, ”What's wrong?”
I could only see his half of the silent exchange that went on between them, and what I was privy to turned out to be indecipherable. Finally, Ben furrowed his brow and gave his head a slight shake as if he didn't fully understand.
”Rowan...” Constance called my name.
Even in my disconnected state, I couldn't help but notice the strange reverberation woven through her tone. Still, even though I could easily sense it was there, I was unable to tell if the underlying emotion was excitement or fear.
”Yeah?” I answered.
It was then she shattered my newfound calm with the words, ”Rowan...it's Felicity.”
I turned to face her, a full-blown mask of confusion pinned to my features. ”Felicity?”
”Felicity?!” Austin yelped.
”You shut up,” Ben ordered him.
Mandalay nodded and held the handset out toward me. I didn't waste time repeating the question. Stepping around the mess and knocking over a pile of books in the process, I traversed the s.p.a.ce between us and took the phone from her.
Placing it to my ear I spoke, ”Felicity? What's wrong?”
”Aye,” her exhausted voice flowed out of the handset. ”Could you come pick me up?”
”Pick you up?”
”Aye.”
”What do you...” I started the question then instantly stuttered to a stop as my overactive imagination began putting outlandish scenarios into motion. ”Felicity, you didn't...”
”Didn't what?” she asked.
”You didn't break out of jail or something, did you?”
”No,” she replied, her fatigue suddenly even more apparent. I imagined I could see her shaking her head as she made the matter of fact statement. Then, her voice quavered as repressed emotion started to encroach. ”They turned me out, Rowan. They...they just let me go.”
I didn't ask why. There would be time for that later.
”Where are you?”
”I'm in the lobby of the Justice Center.”
”Don't move. I'm on my way.”
I was through the door before the sound of the handset clattering into the base had even begun to fade.
I was only mildly aware that my name was being called. I heard the voices but wasn't interested in them. When I shot out the door, I took the stairs in twos, hitting the flagstone walk at a fast jog. It was right about that moment I began to notice that even this, the best thing to happen in the past two days, came fully equipped with obstacles.
The first hurdle that came to light was my congested driveway. The car Austin had driven to the house was angled haphazardly across the end of it, effectively blocking my exit.
It took less than a second for me to decide that something so minor wasn't going to stop me. The only thing that mattered at that moment was getting to Felicity and bringing her home before someone pinched me because I knew as soon as they did, I would wake up and be back in the nightmare. I also knew that such a fear was irrational, but right now I seemed to be living in a world where irrational was the norm, so I didn't discount anything. I simply wasn't going to hesitate and give anyone the chance to take this away. I was fully prepared to drive across the front lawn to get out if need be. It's not like it would have been the first time. I'd done that very thing once before.
Problem solved, or so I thought.
Roadblock number two turned out to be my keys because when I reached into my pocket, they weren't there. In my single-minded haste, I had run from the house without them. This one wasn't going to be quite as easy to make disappear. The only way I was going to overcome it was to go back inside; something I really didn't want to do because in my mind that const.i.tuted a chance for someone to burst this bubble. Unfortunately, there was no way around it.
Of course, this was when I slammed face first into number three, which happened to be Ben and Constance, both of whom had been less than two steps behind me the entire time. And, when I say I slammed into it face first, I mean literally, for when I suddenly turned to go back into the house, the three of us collided.
Now, I had no choice but to pay attention to them.
I don't know if there was a physical manifestation, but on the inside I know I cringed, fully expecting a horrific reality to descend upon me once again. Fortunately, it didn't, and the bubble held.
It didn't take long to become apparent that my plan didn't fit with the one the two of them had devised between themselves. Since it was two against one, I didn't have much hope for winning. Besides, I was lucid enough to realize that standing here arguing would just waste even more time, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. So, rather than perpetuate the disagreement in tactics, I quickly gave in, surrendering to their scenario.
Ben volunteered to stay behind and handle the situation with my brother-in-law. Constance drew the duty of taking me to pick up Felicity. Since they had come in her vehicle, and it was currently parked on the street in front of the house, we were unenc.u.mbered by both obstacles number one and two. Since they, themselves, were number three, all barriers were now rendered moot.
Before we left, both of them offered to give statements to the local police if I wanted to press charges against Austin. I pondered the idea then decided against it. I suppose in the end I made the choice for Felicity's sake. Given all that she'd been through, having her husband swearing out a complaint against her brother probably wasn't something she needed thrown on the pyre right now. I will admit, though, I seriously considered it, even if only for a moment.
What I did tell Ben was that I wanted the man out of my house before I returned. He may well have been on his way to coming around since my posing the questions to him, but I wasn't interested in taking chances right now. As I was climbing into the pa.s.senger side of Constance's sedan, my friend guaranteed me that he would see to my wish, admitting that it was likely to mean a call to the local police for a patrol car, a Breathalyzer, and a tow truck.
To be honest, that solution suited me just fine.
CHAPTER 21:.
”I just don't get this,” I said aloud as I s.h.i.+fted uncontrollably in the pa.s.senger seat. It seemed as though I was infused with enough nervous energy to power a small city, and I just couldn't get comfortable. I settled back and tried to stop myself from fidgeting then added, ”I don't understand what's going on.”
The verbal lament wasn't actually a question; it was really nothing more than an observation born of frustration so intense that my brain was no longer willing to keep the thought to itself. Even so, it was the truth. While I was all about serendipity, especially in this case, Felicity suddenly being released without some type of advance notice just didn't make sense. I was honestly perplexed by what was happening, and I really did want to understand.
Of course, the fact that I was less than a step shy of being officially overwrought certainly wasn't helping. I guess my tone conveyed that sense of confusion in spades because Mandalay took it as a cue to provide a simplistic explanation.
”Something must have happened,” she stated without embellishment.
I'll admit I was confused, but I also hadn't gone totally dense. Without thinking I fired back a retort, and this time the unfiltered response was even more heavily rimmed with the emotional overload. Unfortunately, the bite in my voice was not only obvious, but also exceptionally unpleasant. ”Well, h.e.l.l Constance, I think maybe I kind of figured that part out on my own! The question is what?”