“Were you watching the eclipse?” she asked.
“Yes,” Felicity answered for the both of us, glancing up at it then back to the officer.
Madden glanced upward quickly as well and then back to us. “My kid is doing a paper on it for school,” she offered before clucking her tongue and regarding us with a quizzical look dressing her features. “You know, maybe it’s none of my business, you being with Major Case and all, but mind if I ask exactly what kind of consultants you two are?”
“Independent,” I said, giving her the first mundane word that came to mind. “I’m afraid what we do is a little hard to explain.”
She cocked her head to the side and gave me a hard look. Then, like the state trooper had done back at the rest area, she stared at the ground for a second as she twice repeated my name, as much to herself as us. Looking back up at my face with recognition flashing in her eyes, she slowly shook a finger at me.
“Wait… Rowan Gant. I knew I’d heard that name before. You’re the…”
Psychic… Witch… Neither of the labels really mattered to me right now. So I cut her off before either word could pass her lips, and with a lifetime’s worth of weariness creeping into my voice I said, “Yeah. Whether I like it or not, apparently I am.”
Friday, April 21
7:49 P.M.
Flipdoodles Restaurant
Delmar Loop
University City, Missouri
CHAPTER 34:
“What the hell kinda name is Flipdoodles?” Ben asked.
“Ben!” Constance quietly admonished, reaching to the side and slapping him on the shoulder.
“What?” my friend replied, raising his eyebrows and splaying out his hands in surrender. “I’m just askin’ a question.”
This was the first time we had been out with the petite FBI agent since the shooting in December that had left her in critical condition for a time. She was healed for the most part and back to work now. The Bureau had her on desk duty for the time being, but considering how amazingly well she seemed to be doing I seriously doubted the assignment would be permanent.
“You’re really looking good, Constance,” I said, picking up my drink and raising it toward her. “Here’s to your continued health.”
“ Slainte,” Felicity said, picking up her drink as well.
“Thank you,” Mandalay said with a smile after joining us in the toast, then brushed a shock of brunette hair back from her eyes as she settled her tumbler back to the table. “I’m feeling good. I still tire a bit quicker than I used to, but I’m getting stronger. I really think getting back to work has helped.”
“I was actually surprised you went back so soon,” I commented.
“I had to,” she replied. “I was going stir crazy.”
“I heard. You know, we were pretty worried about you there for a while.”
“Aye,” Felicity agreed. “And I don’t know how I can ever repay you for what you did for me.”
Constance blushed slightly and shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything, Felicity. It’s my job. I’m just happy you weren’t injured. And, it’s good to see you back to your normal self.”
“Here-here,” Ben announced, lifting his glass and taking a swig. As he set it back on the table, he looked at us quizzically. “So… you gonna answer my question or just fawn over the Feeb?”
“You don’t think she deserves it?” I asked.
“Dunno. She’s startin’ ta’ get a bit demanding. Don’t wanna feed the attitude, or she might start actin’ too much like Firehair.”
Mandalay gave him another slap and he jokingly smirked.
“It’s really just a nonsense name, Ben,” Felicity told him as she shrugged. “It’s what Ailleagan wanted to call the place. I like it. It’s fun.”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “Fun. And that just begs the follow-up question-what the hell kinda name is Ale-again? Sounds like someone orderin’ another round at a old timey bar.”
“For your information, it’s Gaelic,” my wife replied. “It means gem or jewel.”
“Then why doesn’t she just call ‘erself Jewel?”
“Because her name is Ailleagan,” Felicity said. “Not Jewel.”
“Yeah… So I take it she’s a foreigner like you?” he quipped.
“I’ll have you know I was born in the United States, and I maintain dual citizenship.”
“Can’t make up your mind, eh?”
“Don’t make me kick you.”
“Ya’ already did as I recall. Still got a bruise.”
“ Cac capaill. You do not. But I’ll be delighted to give you one. Maybe two or three if you keep it up.”
“Yeah, whatever. So, anyway, when ya’ get right down to it, you’re all just a bunch of foreigners, ain’t ya’?” He grinned and thrust his thumbs back at himself. “I’m the only one that really belongs here.”
“For someone who denies his heritage on a regular basis, you sure like to play that Native American card when it suits you,” I chuckled.
“Whatever works, white man,” he said with a wider grin then looked around the restaurant and gestured. “So are we ever gonna get some menus or what?”
“No,” Felicity replied.
“Whaddaya mean no?”
My wife simply smiled and left him twisting in the wind, so I explained. “They don’t do menus here, Ben. They plan a meal for the evening and that’s what you get.”
He regarded me with a confused expression. “Bullshit. Very funny.”
“No, I’m serious.”
“Aye, he is,” Felicity added. “Look around. Doesn’t it look to you like everyone is eating the same thing?”
He gave the dining room another glance then faced us again and cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, well seems ta’ be a whole lotta big groups here tonight. They prob’ly got some kinda deal or somethin’.”
“Actually, they probably aren’t big groups,” my wife explained waving her finger around. “Normally you just sit wherever there’s space and eat with everyone else. The only reason we have this smaller table is because I know how you are, and I asked Ailleagan for a favor.” She sat back and regarded him with a faux smug expression. “So, the way I see it, you owe me.”
“Uh-huh. Right. We coulda’ just gone someplace else, ya’know,” he replied.
“It wouldn’t be as good.”
“Yeah, back ta’ that. So you’re really tellin’ me I don’t get ta’ order what I want?”
“Correct,” I replied. “But, you get the pleasure of eating what they serve you.”
“That’s just great,” he snorted. “So what if it’s somethin’ I don’t wanna eat?”
“Then I guess you go hungry,” Constance interjected.
“I’ve never been disappointed by a meal here, Ben,” I replied. “Seriously. Ailleagan is an amazing chef.”
“Don’t worry,” Felicity spoke up. “When I called this afternoon I asked what she was making. They’re serving Spring Chicken Wellington tonight. It’s her signature dish, and it’s absolutely wonderful.”
“Yeah, says you, but is it gonna have somethin’ in it I don’t like?”
Constance shook her head. “Who knows when it comes to you.”
“I ain’t that bad,” he objected. “There’s just some stuff I don’t wanna eat.”
“Unless it’s a donut?” I asked.
“Yeah, right. Very funny.”
“Or anything that isn’t a hamburger or a pizza?” Mandalay quipped.
“Not true. Now you’re makin’ me sound finicky.”
“You are.”
“Yeah, so what about you, Little Miss Sprouts-and-Tofu?”
I chuckled again. “I see the two of you are getting along just as well as usual.”
“Yeah, well I’m cuttin’ ‘er some slack, ya’know,” Ben replied.
“I think I’m the one cutting someone slack here,” she countered. “I suppose I should be grateful you haven’t asked them if they want to see my scars.” She waited a beat then added, “Yet.”
Felicity looked at her with a mildly stunned expression. “He did that?”
“Just once, so far,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “And he was talking to my SAC no less.”