“It’s about time,” Ben’s voice issued from the speaker following the first half of the third ring. “I been tryin’ ta’ call ya’ back for two hours, but all I got was your friggin’ voicemail.”
“Whatever happened to just plain hello?” I asked.
“Simple. Our fast-paced lives and caller ID made it obsolete.”
“Listen to you…” I jibed. “Mister high tech social commentator.”
“Not a chance… I just heard some asshole say that on the news the other day. I think he was talkin’ about manners or somethin’, but it sounded like it would fit.”
“Yeah, I should have figured as much,” I grunted. “Well, I’m sorry for the delay in calling, but apparently I wasn’t getting a signal for the past couple of hours, so I just now got the voicemail notifications.”
In that moment anything resembling lightheartedness fled from his voice. “So listen, Row, did I understand your message right? You’n Firehair actually had a meetin’ with the Feebs this mornin’?”
“Unfortunately, yeah. We just got out of it as a matter of fact.”
“Unfortunately? That doesn’t sound good… So what’s the deal?”
“Long story short, Miranda is still trying to get to Felicity.”
“Yeah, you’ve been sayin’ that’d happen. But what’ve the Feebs got ta’ do with it?”
“Well, it seems that at the moment her plan of attack is to implicate Felicity in the murders.”
“Fuck me… We’ve already been down this road…”
“Tell me about it.”
“So they ain’t buyin’ into ‘er story, are they?”
“I don’t think so. At least, they say they aren’t, but I really don’t know for sure. We were talking to a pair from the BAU, and they weren’t exactly forthcoming with the whole story in the beginning. It took a bit to drag it out of them, and I’m still not convinced they aren’t leaving something out.”
“Not surprisin’. So, that just a hunch or did ya’ get a hinky feelin’?”
“A little of both, I think. Something weird is definitely going on. I just don’t know what it is. I’m not freaking out just yet, but I’m definitely just this side of worried.”
“Great… So, weird how?”
“Weird like maybe someone behind the scenes is calling the shots.”
“Could it just be chain of command?”
“Maybe, but I don’t really think so. It seems more like a pay no attention to the man behind the curtain sort of thing. You know, like the whole episode with the cops in NOLA suddenly dropping the charges against me because someone at the FBI requested it.”
“Okay, yeah. I get it. See why I hate the Feebs? You can’t trust ‘em.”
“Yeah, so what about Constance?”
“She’s the exception, not the rule. Speakin’ of Constance, you want me ta’ have ‘er make some calls and check some shit out?”
“Well, I’ll admit I’d sure like to know who it is I’m indebted to before he or she suddenly decides to collect,” I replied. “So, if you think she’d be willing I’d really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, well you know how she is. All I gotta do is mention it and she’ll start snoopin’. She may still be on medical leave but that sorta shit’s never stopped ‘er before. B’sides, it’ll give her somethin’ to do. She’s climbin’ the walls right now, and she’s still got two weeks left before they’ll even think about lettin’ ‘er back on the job.”
“I know, but please tell her not to get herself into any trouble over this. It’s mine and Felicity’s problem, not hers.”
“Yeah, like she’s gonna listen ta’ me. Get real.”
“I know, I know… It’s just that we owe her so much as it is. I don’t want her screwing up her career any more.”
“You ain’t gonna be able ta’ stop ‘er, Row. She’s kinda attached ta’ you two in case you ain’t figured that out yet.”
“Well, the feeling is mutual.”
“Yeah…okay… So let’s change the subject before this turns all fuckin’ sappy and shit,” he urged. “Listen, you doin’ all right today?”
I shrugged out of reflex. “As well as can be expected under the circumstances, I guess. I mean, I’m annoyed, but…”
He cut me off. “No, Kemosabe, I mean with the Twilight Zone and all.”
“Yeah, pretty much I suppose, why?”
“So, no bleedin’ or anything?”
“No, Ben, just a bit of a headache.”
“Aspirin kinda headache or…”
This time I interrupted him instead. “Yeah, Ben, it’s a la-la land headache, but it’s not a bad one. Just your average, everyday ‘Rowan’s talking to dead people again’ headache. Is that what you’re wanting to know?”
“Well yeah, actually…”
“Okay, so what’s up?”
“You still downtown?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Both of ya’, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I grunted. We had arrived at the Jeep several minutes ago, and Felicity was already belted in behind the wheel. Out of habit I was still standing next to the passenger side with the door hanging open. “In fact, I’m looking at Felicity right now. She says hi.”
“Yeah, whatever. So where are ya’ exactly?”
“On the FBI’s parking lot, why?”
“Good, then you ain’t far away,” he said.
“Ben, are you going to tell me what you are going on about, or do I have to guess?”
He huffed out a sigh. “R’member that freak job with the metal band Wendy was tellin’ us about the other day?”
“Yeah… What was her name… Desiree or something like that, right? Don’t tell me she was murdered.”
“No, she’s not dead. Turns out ‘er real name is Margaret Lucas, but that ain’t the point. What is the point, however, is that she reported ‘er girlfriend missin’ last night.”
“Missing as in…”
“We don’t know. But, it looks suspicious, and she’s apparently been missin’ better’n forty-eight hours.”
“Are you certain?”
“No,” he replied, oozing sarcasm. “We’re runnin’ around with our thumbs up our asses and throwin’ darts at a board. Any more stupid questions?”
“Sorry…” I said. “I’m still in that suspicious mindset.”
“Yeah, me too,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that. It’s just been a long day already.”
“I can imagine. So how did homicide get involved?”
“Goddamn computer did somethin’ right for a change. Listed under identifyin’ marks is a tattoo of a black swan just over ‘er heart. When they were enterin’ the info, it raised a flag and got kicked over to Major Case.”
“Dammit,” I muttered.
“Yeah, that’s kinda what I said,” he agreed. “Looks like our bad guy got ‘imself a fresh victim.”
“The question is, how long before this one turns up in a dumpster somewhere…”
“E’zactly,” he replied. “So listen, had our own meetin’ with the Feebs about forty-five minutes ago and things are startin’ ta’ get busy if ya’ know what I mean. On top of that I got my brass buggin’ me about you. I told ‘em you were on board, so now they’re kinda wantin’ ya’ to weigh in on this. If ya’ could put in a little face time down here it’d be a good thing.”
“You know, I still don’t get that. When the hell did I become their golden boy?” I asked. “It hasn’t been too long since I was a pariah. And before that I had Albright on my ass at every turn.”
He hesitated for a moment then replied with what seemed to be a cautious note in his voice. “Yeah… You got me, Row… I know what you’re sayin’… But like I said last night, they know you get results…”
“Is something wrong?” I pressed.
“No, why?”
“You sound a bit strange all of a sudden.”
“Sorry… Just a bit preoccupied with some shit… So anyway, if it’s any consolation, the word from on high is that they definitely don’t want ya’ talkin’ ta’ anybody but me about this…‘specially not the media clowns.”
“Keeping it compartmentalized, eh? More or less a help us, but don’t embarrass us scenario…”
“Yeah, that’s about it.”
“You sure there’s nothing wrong?” I pressed again.
“Yeah. It’s all good. Just a lot of shit goin’ down right now, and I’m swimmin’ in it.”
I didn’t have to see him to know he was probably sitting at his desk, massaging his neck with his free hand as he ruminated over that very fact himself. I couldn’t help but wonder if the invisible puppeteer that seemed to be controlling my destiny where the FBI was concerned also had a few strings attached to local law enforcement as well. Of course, the more I thought about it the more I wondered if I was finally losing my ability to entertain rational thoughts in favor of conspiracy theories. I hoped I hadn’t, but I figured if I started seeing black helicopters from the corner of my eye, it would be time to check myself into a padded cell under Helen Storm’s care.