“Listen, Row… This address you gave me. Is it around here?” Ben asked, gesturing with a sweep of his arm.
“I don’t know,” I told him.
“But you’re sure about the number and the street?”
“Yes.” I nodded vigorously. “Absolutely.”
“Okay, what I can do is call it in and have dispatch run a search on Millston Streets,” he offered. “But here’s the problem-we either need a warrant or some serious probable cause to kick down a door. Like I’ve told ya’ before, you and the Twilight Zone don’t qualify on either count.”
“Hey, if I remember correctly, it was the police who insisted on my involvement in this,” I countered. “Especially you, Barbara.”
“I know,” my friend replied. “I’m just sayin’ this is a sticky situation. And if you’re wrong and what we end up with is a grandma sittin’ there readin’ ‘er Bible…”
“I’m not wrong, Ben,” I appealed before he could finish. “Besides, it’s an old, boarded up house. It looked like it had been burned at one time, so you aren’t going to find a grandma with a Bible there. Just a killer and a potential victim, unless you keep screwing around and let her become a statistic.”
“Chill out… Now, you’re sure about all this?”
“Goddammit, will you stop asking me that?” I shot back. “Why the hell are you doubting me all of a sudden?”
He reached up and smoothed back his hair then rested his hand on the side of his neck while gesturing with the other. “No offense, white man, but this ain’t how you usually work. Normally, ya’ don’t just hand us an address and say go get the bad guy. Ya’ tell me somethin’ like ya’ saw a bunch of blood and a flash of light, or a spirit makes ya’ write bad poems and ya’ have nightmares about flyin’ monkeys or some shit.” He shrugged. “Somethin’ off the wall like that… Ya’know… Twilight Zone…”
“So maybe I’m getting better at this,” I snapped. “Are you going to completely discount what I’m saying just because I’m being specific this time?”
“Okay… Okay… Calm down.”
“How can I calm down? I just told you where to find the killer and that he has someone with him. But instead of doing something about it, you’re just standing here giving me the third degree.”
He glanced over at Albright who was remaining completely silent.
“Look, Row, I told ya’, we’ll check it out,” he replied, turning back to me and pulling out his notebook. “Gimme that exact address again.”
“Twenty-three oh two South Millston Street,” I repeated.
“Twenty-three oh two…” he mumbled back to me. “You’re…”
My frustrated retort was already poised on the end of my tongue, but fortunately he stopped himself before completing the question.
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered as he scribbled. “You’re sure.” He turned and looked toward some of the other cops a few feet away. “Hey… Yeah, you. Is there a South Millston Street around here anywhere?”
“No,” the deputy replied, shaking his head. “Don’t know of one in the immediate area. Maybe in Saint Charles.”
“Okay, thanks.” Ben pulled out his phone and directed himself back to me. “I’m gonna call in and have dispatch run a search for me. Just so ya’ know, this is prob’ly gonna take a coupl’a minutes, so ya’ need ta’ just get a grip and calm down.”
I stooped and snatched up my jacket from the asphalt where it had been dropped during the earlier havoc. I slipped into it while he started punching a number into the keypad of his cell. I wasn’t excited about the delay, but there was nothing else I could do. At least he was starting the ball rolling instead of interrogating me further.
I let out a heavy sigh then glanced around and spotted Felicity leaning against a light standard in the distance, well on the opposite side of the crime scene tape. If there was going to be a wait, then now was as good a time as any for me to start my own ball down the lane.
“Well let me know what you find out,” I said to my friend, my voice unintentionally sharp. I nodded my head in the direction of my sulking wife then added, “I’ll be over there finding out how long I’m going to be sleeping on the couch.”
“Why do you have to be so reckless, then?” Felicity asked, her voice calm but still betraying a definite subtext of annoyance.
I had taken it as a good sign that she didn’t simply walk away when I approached. She was still leaning back against the light standard, and I was next to her doing the same, more or less sitting on the edge of the large concrete base and pressing the back of my head against the cold post. At first it seemed to afford a little relief from the pain in my skull, but as expected it didn’t last long.
We had been standing in silence for a long measure. I was keeping an eye on Ben as he talked on the phone while at the same time trying to focus my aching brain on a suitable apology I could offer my wife. I certainly wasn’t going to say something empty just to get myself out of hot water. I wanted to honestly attempt to make amends to her. I just wasn’t sure where to start except to simply say I was sorry, which seemed a bit lame under any circumstances.
Since I was finding myself at a loss for the appropriate verbiage, she beat me to the punch with her straightforward question being the first thing either of us had uttered. I was actually a bit surprised that she was talking to me in such an even tone. Had she snarled a string of acerbic Gaelic at me, it would have been much closer to what I was expecting.
I paused then grunted in response, “That’s a good question.”
“I’m serious, Row.”
“I know you are,” I offered with a heavy sigh. “I just don’t have a good answer.”
Quiet fell between us again for several heartbeats, and I waited for her reply, watching my breath condense in a frosty cloud in front of me before dissipating into nothingness.
Finally, I heard Felicity sigh and shuffle as she repositioned herself against the post. “You know I think what bothers me the most is that I know I would probably have done the same thing.”
“Yeah, you’ve had your share of moments too,” I replied.
“You needn’t remind me,” she said.
“Sorry.”
“Aye, now that, you definitely needed to say.”
“I thought I might,” I said. “Sorry about the whole thing with the car too. I just felt I needed the strength of the physical connection if I was going to get anything tangible.”
She responded without pause. “I know.”
“It worked…” I offered sheepishly.
“I heard,” she replied. “I think everyone did. You were your usual vociferous self where that was concerned.”
“They weren’t listening.”
“I know.”
I glanced toward Ben for a visual check on his progress. He still had his cell phone pressed to his ear, and he seemed to be waiting. I was at least heartened by the fact that he appeared to be edging toward impatience himself.
I sighed. “Now if it just pans out.”
“It will,” she murmured.
After a brief pause I shifted slightly and glanced over in her direction. “So… Still mad at me?”
She didn’t turn, but she held her hand up over her shoulder with her index finger and thumb around a half inch apart. “Just a little.”
“Could be worse I suppose.”
“Aye.”
“Am I sleeping on the couch?”
She shook her head out of reflex as she spoke. “No. I’m sure I can think of a suitable punishment for you though.”
I felt my brow furrow automatically at the way she almost purred the comment. “Umm, honey… Are you in one of those moods again? Because, you know, this really isn’t the time or place…”
“I know, I know…” she replied, rushing to explain. Her voice sounded almost as if she were ashamed of what she had just said. “I wasn’t and then suddenly I was. It just came over me. I know this isn’t the time, believe me. But…the feeling is more than just a little overwhelming.”
“Like with Miranda?” I nearly whispered the question.