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.”
“Yes, I do,” she said with a grin.
“Coconut cream,” the waitress said as she appeared and slid a generous slice of pie in front of Ben. “Would anyone like more coffee?”
Felicity passed on the java, but Ben and I both opted for a fresh cup even though the doctor had warned me off. Once the waitress was gone, I tried to steer the conversation back into the proper lane. “Look, right now Judith Albright needs to be our concern. Maybe we should skip the morgue and go straight to the crime scene.”
“We don’t really have one,” Ben explained. “The last place she was seen was the house where she lived with the vampire whacko. Already been over that with a microscope. No sign of struggle, no nothin’. Her purse, keys, and car were gone, and that’s it. The geeks are goin’ over ‘er computer but nothin’ yet… So there’s not much ta’ see. All we know is…”
Before he could complete the thought, he was interrupted by the sound of a cell phone, which was warbling deep inside his pocket. He settled his pie-mounded fork onto the plate and then fished around until he retrieved the screaming device. Giving a quick glance at the display, he raised an eyebrow then flipped the phone open and put it against his ear.
“This is Storm,” he said, his voice taking on a somewhat more official tone than usual. “Yes… What time? Okay. Actually, we were just discussin’ a different approach ourselves. No, I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Just a second, let me get somethin’ to write with.”
He switched the phone to his other hand but continued holding it against the same ear as he sent his newly freed appendage searching for a pen. A moment later he had a notebook out on the table and a ballpoint in his fingers.
“Go ahead,” he told the person at the other end. “Yeah… Yeah… Okay, got it. CSU there yet? Good. Who’s runnin’ the scene? Yeah, got it. Uh-huh, we’re on our way.”
He folded the phone and tucked it back into his pocket then re-inspected what he had written before doing the same maneuver with the notebook.
“I take it we’re going somewhere?” I asked.
“Looks like you kinda got your wish,” he replied. “Seems we all of a sudden officially have a crime scene. State trooper just found Judith Albright’s car at a rest area on Highway Seventy just outside Wright City.”
“That’s an hour from here,” Felicity said.
“Yeah, just about,” Ben agreed then shoveled in the forkful of pie, which he quickly followed with a second much larger portion. After swallowing he added, “So, we better get movin’. It’s already gonna be dark by the time we get there.”
My wife pulled out her cell phone and stabbed a speed dial number then tucked it up to her ear as she said, “Let’s hope RJ can run by the house and let the dogs out, or we’ll be having a mess to clean up.”
In his typical fashion, he managed to down the rest of the pie before Felicity and I were fully out of our seats.
Just like my wife had said, the roadside rest area was something on the order of an hour from where we were when the call originally came in. However, with Ben behind the wheel the trip was instantly reduced to 45 minutes. If he had elected to use his emergency light and siren, that probably would have shaved it back to 30 or even less. Having white-knuckled a few rides with him in the past, I was perfectly content with taking the extra time.
For the better part of the trip we had engaged in idle chitchat, both about the case and about nothing at all. However, for the last 10 minutes or so, things had fallen relatively quiet. I didn’t really mind since I was still dealing with the aftereffects of my earlier episode at the morgue, so I had laid my head back and closed my eyes under the guise of resting for a bit.
Unfortunately, the physical drain that was pulling me down was the least of my worries. While there was a lull in the conversation between the three of us in this plane of existence, inside my skull it was a completely different story. The ethereal chatter was almost deafening. I couldn’t make out the words just yet, but I knew that would be changing.
Like always, it was starting with the pain boring its way into the back of my grey matter. I couldn’t say that this time was really any more intense than usual, but perspective changes everything. The simple fact that I had been devoid of the torture for the last few hours made it seem even worse now that it returned.
Still, it was the routine ache of someone from across the veil pounding on my inner door, a thing I had grown to know and hate, but ultimately accept. However, something about this caller was inexplicably disturbing. Although still clouded in a curious fog, there was something intensely intimate about the feeling-different, but all too familiar in a way I simply couldn’t pin down.
I felt certain it wasn’t Emily Foster calling upon me again. I could tell that simply by the way the pain was touching me. Unfortunately, I had no idea who it was demanding my attention even though something told me I should. Given the circumstances and the sickening churn in the pit of my stomach, unchecked speculation made me fear it might be Judith Albright.
Right or wrong I decided to keep this fresh round of torment to myself. I didn’t feel much like fielding any questions just yet nor was I in the mood to fend off concerns. I already knew there would be enough of that to deal with once we arrived.
I could feel the van swaying to the right and starting to slow, so I opened my eyes. I saw immediately that Ben was veering from the highway and onto the shoulder to avoid a line of brightly burning road flares that had been set out to block the entrance to the rest area. Hooking around them, he aimed the Chevy along the ramp and began to slow even more. Ahead of us, framed in the swath of the vehicle’s headlamps, was a highway patrol cruiser, light bar flickering and parked diagonally across the access road. We rolled to a stop several feet away as the officer inside the car slowly climbed out and held up his hand. After a moment he cautiously made his way toward us with the butt of a large flashlight resting on his shoulder while he aimed the beam at us. His other hand was hanging conspicuously close to his sidearm.
Ben pulled out his badge case then rolled down his window and waited as the trooper approached on a wide arc.
“I’m sorry, but this rest area is temporarily closed,” the officer stated, still standing several feet back and to the side with his hand now resting on the butt of his pistol.
“Detective Storm,” my friend announced, offering his badge and ID. “Major Case Squad.”