“Good one” was all he said before sauntering off to join the rest.
I was certain that the officer had his hands full with the crowd of whining prima donnas and was hesitant to bother him, but I wanted to be sure he was aware of the grey station wagon parked at the corner. As I debated how to get this information to him, I looked over to see if the car was still there. I was greeted with the sight of the vehicle’s occupant as he strolled across the street toward me, gingerly balancing a baking dish in his hands. Instead of another reporter as I had suspected, I was surprised and relieved to see Detective Carl Deckert, grey hair flying on a light breeze.
“I thought you were another reporter when you pulled up over there,” I admitted, motioning to the bickering throng as he trundled up my driveway.
“I’ll bet,” he responded. “Sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
“No problem. Seemed pretty quick to me.”
“How’s Felicity doing?” he asked as he reached me. “I heard what happened from Ben.”
“Doctor gave her a clean bill of health. I’d expect she’s going to be a little sore though.” I fell into stride with him, and we continued up the flagstone walk. “Mentally, she seems okay. She’s a pretty strong individual. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Good. Good. Glad to hear it.”
We climbed the stairs, and I opened the front door for him.
“Honey, where are you?” I called out as we entered the living room, and I shut the door. We were greeted only by the cool air and calm atmosphere. “We have a visitor.”
“I’m in the kitchen. Who is it?” she called back. She met us halfway as we proceeded through the dining room in her direction. “Detective Deckert,” she smiled, “this is a surprise.”
“Carl, please. Just call me Carl.” He offered the baking dish to her. “I hope this doesn’t seem silly, but I told my wife about what happened and all…Anyway, she made lasagna and insisted I bring it over to you two.”
“It’s not silly at all.” Felicity took the dish from him and motioned for us to follow her. “Come on in. Tell your wife thank you very much. It’s very nice of her.”
“No offense intended, Carl,” I showed him farther into the kitchen and offered him a seat at our breakfast nook while Felicity stored the dish in the refrigerator, “but I was expecting Ben.”
“None taken. He asked if I would handle it,” he explained as he sat down, absently brushing his disheveled grey hairs back into place. “I wanted to come by and deliver the lasagna anyway.”
Felicity was working at preparing a pitcher of herb tea, and I interposed myself between her and the cabinet as she strained to reach an upper shelf. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll finish this up.”
“I’m fine,” she objected.
“I’m sure you are,” I rejoined. “But I’ve got this really intense desire to make tea, so why don’t you let me do it?”
I’m sure she would have argued more had Detective Deckert not been there. Since he was, however, she quietly resigned herself to the fact that I was going to coddle her for a while and joined him at the table. I had scarcely managed to begin transferring the sun-brewed liquid into the ice-filled pitcher when our guest spoke up.
“This is probably none of my business,” he blurted hesitantly. “But you two are pretty close with Ben and his wife, aren’t you?”
“Definitely,” I answered. “Ben was my Best Man. We’ve known the two of them forever.”
“Why do you ask?” Felicity looked over at me as she spoke, then back to Detective Deckert. “Is something wrong?”
I continued what I was doing but kept my attention on the conversation.
“You could say that,” he sighed. “Like I said, it’s probably none of my business, but I couldn’t help overhearing him on the phone last night… Then he asked me to come over here when you called a little while ago.” He nodded his head at Felicity.
“I noticed that he was a little distant,” she agreed. “What did you overhear?”
“Well,” he explained, “I only heard one side of the conversation, but I got the gist of it.”
“He and Allison are having problems because of the hours he’s been putting in, right?” I volunteered.
“They’ve got a problem all right,” he told us. “But his work schedule isn’t it. Near as I can figure, Ben’s wife blames him for Felicity’s miscarriage.”
“She what?!” I exclaimed.
“Why would Allison do that?!” Felicity appealed.
“Hey,” Deckert held up his hands defensively, “from what I overheard, he agrees with her.”
CHAPTER 16
It’s not his fault,” Felicity voiced adamantly. “I’m the one that made the choice to walk through that door. He had nothing to do with it.”
“You know that, and I know that,” Deckert nodded, “but he still feels responsible. He seems to think that if he never got you two involved in this investigation, you never would have gotten hurt.”
“That’s just plain ridiculous,” I stated. “All he did was ask me the difference between a Pentacle and a Pentagram because he’d seen this hanging around my neck.” I hooked a finger beneath the silver chain and lifted the small pendant from behind my shirt. “Other than that, I volunteered. Hell, he was against the idea of me getting involved in the first place. I had to talk him into it.”
Deckert shrugged and echoed my sentiments, “I know, I know, but he’s your friend, and he feels responsible for you.” He let out a long sigh. “Shit, it’s part of being a cop. You feel responsible for everyone.”
At that moment, Detective Carl Deckert looked far older than his years. It was clear that he and Benjamin Storm had been cut from the same cloth when it came to loyalty to their friends and loved ones-when it came to loyalty to their careers as well. In a way, I felt I was seeing my best friend’s future being played out before me by the man seated at my kitchen table.
“We need to have a talk with those two,” Felicity ventured. “We’ve got to get this straightened out.”
I had finished preparing the mint tea and placed the full pitcher along with glasses on the table then slid in next to my wife. “Any ideas on how we should do that?”
“We need to speak to them when they’re together, for one,” she posed.
“Sure, but that’s going to be a little hard to accomplish with this investigation going on. Ben’s hours are a little unpredictable right now.”
Detective Deckert cleared his throat, and we both turned our attention to him. “I doubt that’ll be a problem. He should be home at a decent hour tonight.”
“Why’s that?” I queried.
“That’s another piece of news I need to give you.” He looked distantly out the window of the atrium then back at us. The deep furrow in his brow revealed the fact that he was struggling with exactly how to go about it.
“R.J. is being charged with the murders, isn’t he?” Felicity intoned flatly.
“Not yet, but don’t be surprised if it happens within the next day or so,” he echoed. “For the murder of Ellen Gray at least. We got the warrant and searched his place early this morning.”
“What did you find?” I wasn’t sure I wanted him to answer the question.
“Black and white candles. A lot of ‘em,” he detailed. “And a set of artists pastels among other things.”
“There has to be some kind of logical explanation.” I shook my head. “What about the dirk, Ariel’s athame. Did you find that?”
“The knife?” he echoed, shaking his head. “No. Not yet, but we’re still looking.”
“You’ve got the wrong person, Carl,” Felicity implored. “I can’t give you tangible proof, but I just know R.J. isn’t guilty.”
“I know you two think he’s innocent, but so far, the evidence points to the opposite. I think you might be backing the wrong horse.”
“The candles don’t mean a thing,” I declared. “If you searched our house, you’d find a ton of candles. Witches use them for everything, so we have a tendency to buy them in bulk.”
“Especially if you find them on sale,” Felicity added. “And as far as the pastels go, maybe he’s an artist.”