“Of course,” she replied. “It’s obvious she is up to something, and it would appear that somehow implicating Miz O’Brien in the crimes is it.”
“Like I said, complicity.”
“But complicity gets her nothing.”
“Actually, it gets her access to my wife, which is what she really wants.”
“Why?”
I knew I was getting carried away, so I slammed on the brakes and tried to recover by saying, “Just call it a hunch.”
Felicity recognized that I had talked myself into a corner and jumped in to divert the conversation. “So what do we do now?”
Jante looked over to her. “Unfortunately, we can’t simply assume that she is fabricating everything she says. The real sticking points are the mentions of Miranda in your arrest record, so we need to be clear on why exactly that is.”
“It sounds like you consider that some sort of damning evidence,” I observed.
“It is. It indicates a connection.”
“Then let me ask another question and hope like hell I don’t regret it later. Why does the federal government care whether or not my wife is implicated in this?”
“Contrary to what you might believe, Mister Gant, the government does actually care whether or not an innocent person is wrongly accused or convicted of a crime.”
“No offense, but you’ll have to forgive me if I take that with a shaker full of salt.”
“I’m merely answering your question. We aren’t here to change your opinions.”
I didn’t press any further. I felt certain there was something going on behind the scenes here, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. However, what I did know for a fact was that some unnamed benefactor within the FBI had pulled my fat out of the fire when I had been arrested in New Orleans while unofficially investigating this case on my own. Something told me that same mystery person was behind this as well. I suppose I should have been thankful, and in many ways I was, but in the back of my head I couldn’t help but wonder what price I was going to pay and exactly when the bill was going to come due.
“We are simply trying to find the truth,” Doctor Jante said. “We need to determine if anything Devereaux has said is both accurate and at the same time inaccessible without her first having direct contact with Miz O’Brien.” She shifted her gaze to Felicity and added, “If you had such contact with her, we need to know about it, and why.”
“And if there is something she knows that she shouldn’t?” my wife asked.
“Then we could potentially have a problem,” Hanley said.
“I think we have one then,” she replied.
“How so? Did you have direct contact with Devereaux?”
“No, not until the night at the zoo when she was captured. And when she called to threaten me. But you already know about all that.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“I’m sure Miranda knows quite a bit about me,” she sighed. “Much more than she reasonably should.”
“It would help if you could be a bit more specific about that,” Doctor Jante pressed.
“Believe me,” I spoke up. “That’s just about as specific as you want her to get.”
“And why is that, Mister Gant?” she asked.
I had already slipped twice and managed to duck and run. I didn’t know if I could get away with it a third time. But, since this conversation was rushing headlong toward parts unknown, I elected to give them my standard answer anyway. “Because if either of us tell you who Miranda really is, and how we came to know her, you won’t believe us.”
“How can you be so sure?” Hanley asked.
“Got the t-shirt,” I told him with a matter-of-fact shrug.
“May I ask if this has anything to do with your personal contention that Miranda is actually some sort of Voodoo spirit and that Devereaux, as well as your wife, have both been possessed by said entity?” Doctor Jante asked.
The question caught me cold, and I simply didn’t have an immediate response for it. In fact, I wasn’t entirely certain I had a response at all. The one thing that kept going through my mind, however, was Ben Storm’s voice saying, “Yeah, tell it to a judge.”
After a moment I let out a chuckle and shook my head. “You two are good. I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“We’re simply after the truth, Mister Gant.”
The question in my mind at this point was how they knew. Obviously they were in possession of the case files; they had said as much right at the outset. But, I wasn’t aware that any of the less tangible information had ended up in those official records. In fact, I was somewhat flabbergasted that it apparently had.
Both Ben and Constance were fanatically meticulous about premeditated omission of the paranormal details when it came to their reports. There were simply some events that had no logical explanation-certain happenings that, when committed to paper, came off as too bizarre for belief, especially to the uninitiated and devoutly skeptical. If either of them actually tried including some of the things they’d personally witnessed, they would most likely find their careers becoming stagnant or even non-existent.
Of course, how they found out really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. What it now boiled down to was the fact that I was correct. My third attempt at ducking the radar was a bust. So were the first and second apparently. I no longer had “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you” to hide behind, and that left me suddenly feeling very naked.
“Okay…” I finally said. “Since you are all about the truth, are you hiding anything else up your collective sleeves, or are we all really on the same page now?”
Special Agent Hanley spoke first. “This is nothing we were hiding. Obviously we’re familiar with both your backgrounds. I mean it’s really no secret to anyone, especially given the high profile cases on which you’ve consulted for the local police in the past.”
“The official reports don’t include the paranormal aspects of the investigations,” I countered. “You and I both know that.”
“Official reports, no. But neither of you are particularly shy about your beliefs, and trust me, what you do when consulting on a case makes its way through the grapevine even if it doesn’t go into a report.”
“Obviously… Well, I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised by that. Or by the fact that you did your homework. Actually, I suppose I should be shocked if you hadn’t, especially since you’ve been playing us from the word go. But, like you said, since we don’t hide our beliefs, that’s really a moot point.” I shifted in my seat then tossed my glance back and forth between them before adding, “I am a bit curious about where this is going, however. So, let’s continue our trend of honesty here. I’m guessing you’re both more than just a little skeptical about our take on Miranda, which is no surprise either.”
“Well, we certainly don’t subscribe to a belief that the immortal soul of a dead woman is taking possession of living bodies in order to commit crimes,” Doctor Jante replied. “Quite honestly, Mister Gant, that’s ludicrous.”
“Okay, so obviously ‘skeptical’ wasn’t a strong enough word,” I remarked as I shrugged. “You pretty much think we’re nuts. Fine. Once again, no big surprise there. I’ve got a few of those t-shirts too.”
“Neither of us said we think you’re insane,” she countered.
“No, but you didn’t have to,” I replied. “I’ve seen the look before. So, let’s quit dancing around and get to the real issue here. The way I figure it, either you’re actually afraid that Devereaux’s attorney is going to use this to somehow discredit the prosecution, or you have a different agenda.”
“No agenda, as you put it, Mister Gant,” she replied. “We’re simply doing a criminal investigative analysis to support the federal prosecutor, like we just explained. All of our cards are on the table at this point.”
“Yeah…until the next one appears,” I huffed. “So, unless I missed my guess, you have a different theory about who Miranda is?”
Doctor Jante shook her head and tossed her gaze back and forth between Felicity and me. “Actually, I wish I could say that you’re correct, but right now we’re just working on the basis that there must be something latent that is shared between Devereaux and you, Miz O’Brien. Something we’ve missed that could explain her intimate knowledge of you.”