Since the police had already taken Velvet’s statement, and they didn’t see her as the threat they saw me, she was free to leave. She had graciously offered to hang loose for a while once I was settled in, however I was well aware she still had an hour or so drive ahead of her to get back to Baton Rouge. As much as I would have appreciated the company, I felt as though I had disrupted her life more than enough already, so I urged her to go home. Eventually, she gave in, though only after I promised to contact her if I needed any further help. It seemed I had made at least one friend while I was here.
Now, to occupy the void, I had been trying to watch TV. I managed to catch the last half of a re-broadcast episode of Firefly on a cable station, but after that, all I seemed to be able to find were so-called “reality shows” that were worse than a waste of time. After running up and down the gamut of channels, I switched it off. Dragging myself out of the bed for the third time since arriving in the room, I made my way to the bathroom to empty my bladder. They were still running IV’s into me at full bore. While I had insisted after my second trip to the toilet that I must be fully re-hydrated by now, I was informed that I was being flushed out. A catheter was offered if I felt the repeated trips were too annoying, but I declined, promising instead to fill the sample cups each time I went. Fortunately, that seemed to satisfy them.
I finished executing my duty and had just rolled the IV stand back into place next to the bed before sitting down when a nurse came into the room.
“How are you feelin’, Mistuh Gant?” she asked.
“About as good as can be expected,” I grumbled. “By the way, I just left you a present in the bathroom.”
“For me? Why, thank you. Ya’ shouldn’t have,” she replied in a bubbly voice.
“You’re way too cheerful,” I told her.
She ignored the statement and went about checking my IV then my pulse and blood pressure. When she was finished, she asked, “Do ya’ need anythin’?”
“Not that I can think of,” I replied.
“All right then, my name is Adrienne, and I’ll be takin’ care of you this shift. If you need anythin’…”
I held up my hand and interrupted her, my voice somewhat astringent. “Just press the call button, yeah, I know…” When I finished the comment, I sighed heavily then said, “Look, Adrienne. I apologize. That was rude. This just hasn’t been a particularly wonderful day for me, so my mood isn’t what you would call good.”
“I understand,” she said with a smile.
“Thanks.”
“Besides, dawlin’,” she added, grinning. “Dawn already warned me you were a grouch.”
“Yeah, making friends and influencing people. That’s me.”
“I’ll just pick up your specimen an’ I’ll be back ta’ check on ya’ later. Okay?”
“Looking forward to it,” I told her as I twisted around and lay back on the bed.
She headed out, stopping by the bathroom as she went. When she came out I called over to her, “Hey, Adrienne. You wouldn’t happen to know what time it is, would you?”
She glanced at her watch. “Ten to eight.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
When she was gone, I sat back up on the bed and reached over to the telephone. I dialed for an outside line then started punching in the toll free line and pass code of my calling card. Once I heard the fresh dial tone, I stabbed in a number I’d come to memorize over the past week. After a pair of rings, the operator came on the line.
“Felicity O’Brien’s room, please,” I asked.
“Whom should I say is calling?”
“Her husband, Rowan Gant.”
“Mister Gant, please hold,” she replied.
After a short wait the line was picked up.
“Rowan?” Instead of hearing Felicity’s voice, I was greeted with Helen Storm’s issuing from the handset. She seemed calm, but her tone held an underlying note of concern. “We have been trying to reach you for hours.”
“Is something wrong?” I asked immediately, my own concern rising to the surface. “Is Felicity okay?”
“At the moment, she is fine. However, earlier today she experienced a somewhat bizarre psychotic episode.”
“Miranda?” I asked.
“I am not certain. All I can tell you is that for a period of several minutes, she believed someone was chasing her, and she was doing everything in her power to get away. At one point she actually bit one of the staff. Afterwards, she was frantic, asking repeatedly to speak with you.”
I sighed heavily as I hung my head. “It was me.”
“You? What do you mean?”
“I mean she was trying to get away from me,” I said then explained further by filling her in on the details of the afternoon.
“At this point I would say the question is, are you okay?” she said when I finished.
“I’ll be fine,” I told her. “But, unless I find a way to stop all this, Felicity isn’t.”
“You do not know that, Rowan.”
“Yes I do, Helen,” I replied. “This connection between her and Miranda…or her and Annalise…or both…I don’t know…whatever it is, it’s getting stronger.”
“But, this is the first episode she has experienced in several days.”
“Maybe so, but just look at what triggered it.”
“The chase?”
“Not exactly. The fear.”
“A strong emotion.”
“Exactly. I think that is what’s driving all of this. I just don’t know what’s making the connection, other than the fact that Annalise and Felicity are related.”
“Do you think that could be it?”
“I’m positive it has something to do with it, but if it was the only factor then I think Felicity would have started experiencing this before now. If the evidence in all of the unsolved murders adds up, Annalise has been at this for at least two years, maybe more.”
“Perhaps what triggered the connection was her visit to Saint Louis,” she suggested.
“Proximity? Maybe so, but then why hasn’t the connection faded now that she’s no longer there?”
“Maybe once the connection was made that was all it took.”
“I’m not willing to entertain that option.”
“Why not?”
“Because if it’s true then there’s nothing I can do to save my wife.”
“You cannot be certain of that, Rowan.”
“Helen, I’ve read everything about Voodoo and hoodoo I can get my hands on. I’ve even had lengthy conversations with a published expert on the subject. But, I still don’t know enough about how it works to be sure of anything.”
“What did Doctor Rieth have to say about this?”
“Pretty much the same thing she said before I ever came down here. She agrees with me for the most part. While the familial tie is almost certainly fueling this, something from the outside has to be working on Felicity as well. It isn’t completely unheard of for a Lwa to jump from one horse to another, but it isn’t typical or even common. The faithful invite them in, which is what allows the possession to take place. Popping into someone uninvited isn’t their preferred method of corporeal manifestation. And, that’s not even taking into account that a devout practitioner of Vodoun can go an entire lifetime without ever being a horse. So, for this to be happening to a non-practitioner, something external almost has to be involved.”
“However, you have stated yourself that Miranda is not a typical Lwa.”
“That’s true, but she’s still a spirit. She’s going to take the path of least resistance. If they didn’t, everyone would hear them…” My voiced trailed off at the end of the sentence, then I added, “Just like me.”
“And, Felicity,” Helen reminded me. “She is a Witch as well, and she has demonstrated her own propensity for communicating with the dead.”
“Yeah, I know,” I breathed. “But we both know that isn’t the normal way of things. Besides, I’m pretty sure it’s my fault that she’s been cursed with that affliction.”