Miranda: A Rowan Gant Investigation Read online

  What seemed to be another solid five minutes passed before my grey matter was finally down for the count and I gave in. I slowly shifted in my seat then cleared my throat and said, “You win, Annalise. I’m here, just like you wanted.”

  She remained silent and her expressionless stare never left my face.

  I waited while several heartbeats thumped out a nervous cadence in my chest. I had questions I desperately wanted to ask, but I knew it was too soon. If I didn’t allow her to open up at her own pace, I’d never learn what I needed to know. And if I showed my cards now, I was fairly certain I would lose any chance of ever finding the answers.

  “You’re the one who wanted to talk to me,” I offered. “Remember?”

  No change. Not even a flinch. If it weren’t for the intensity of her stare, I would have started wondering if she was even conscious. Of course, I really had no idea exactly who was sitting across the table from me. The body ostensibly belonged to Annalise Devereaux, but for the most part she had relinquished it long ago. Who actually inhabited the flesh and blood shell at this particular moment was anyone’s guess. I had my suspicions that the steadfast gaze was pure Miranda, but I really couldn’t be sure just yet.

  Time continued to drag, and the pain inside my skull kept gnawing away at what little patience I still had intact. After another half dozen minutes or so, I purposefully shifted my gaze to the corrections officer in the corner. I was a half second from opening my mouth to tell him I was ready to give up and leave when Annalise’s voice broke the quietude.

  I had expected that when she finally spoke, it was likely to be no more than a frail whisper, but what I heard now was far from it. Her comment was direct, and her voice was strong, calm, and even, as she said, “I really do not understand what it is she sees in you.”

  CHAPTER 3

  The caustic observation certainly wasn’t everything I had hoped for out of this meeting. However, depending on your perspective, hope and expectation can be two completely different things. To be honest, since I hadn’t expected much at all, this was better than nothing. At the very least she was speaking instead of simply staring, and the subtext of her comment was purposely blatant.

  I cleared my throat once again, shifted forward in my seat, and then nodded. “Actually, I’ve been asking myself that very question for several years now.”

  “I sincerely doubt it,” she replied.

  It didn’t matter to me that she was being adversarial. In my mind, the fact that she responded at all was enough to push the dialogue forward. If she wanted to argue, I was willing to oblige.

  “And why is that?”

  “So you want to play psychologist, I see.”

  I shook my head. “No. As I recall, you’re the one with the psych degree, not me. I’m just asking a question.”

  She launched an exasperated sigh into the air between us. “Fine, I will play along. I say I doubt it because you are pretending to assume the she I am referring to is your wife.”

  “I see,” I answered with a slight nod.

  My headache was still raging, not that I’d imagined it would magically subside just because she began to talk. However, the return of the prickling gooseflesh as my skin tightened in a physiological response to her comment had definitely not been on my list of expectations—especially since my stomach was still slowly working its way through the expanded edition of the Handbook Of Knots.

  Apparently, this was going to be even harder on me than I thought. I took a moment to bolster my psychic defenses, but I feared I was already too late. Preternatural attacks were like flood waters—once they broke through there was precious little that could stop them, and I had no doubt that I was already bobbing in a dangerous current.

  After a short pause I asked, “So, I take it you’re talking about someone else then?”

  “Of course. You know full well that I am.”

  She was correct, I did know, but I wasn’t going to let on to that just yet. I wanted her to believe she was the one in control of the conversation. Unfortunately, what I wanted really didn’t matter all that much because she actually did have the upper hand, whether I cared to admit it or not.

  “Could’ve fooled me…” I said, purposely furrowing my brow. “Care to fill me in, or am I just supposed to make another assumption?”

  She cocked her head and gave me a pitying glare. “You are nowhere near as clever as I expected you to be. What happened to the man who tracked me all the way to New Orleans?”

  “Which one of you?” I asked. “As I recall I tracked you both.”

  “You tell me.”

  “I suppose it doesn’t really matter, does it? After all, where one of you goes, so goes the other.”

  “For now,” she said.

  “Yeah… Okay…” I replied. “So anyway, to answer your question, I’m reasonably sure I’m sitting right here.”

  “I am not so certain that is true.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Your pathetic attempt to make me believe you do not know of whom I speak.”

  “Maybe I’m just dense.”

  “I doubt it.”

  I shrugged. “Then maybe you set the bar too high.”

  “Do not try to make this about me.”

  “Isn’t it though?” I asked. “About you, I mean? You’re the one in control here.”

  “No, no, no…” she muttered, shaking her head. “That was clumsy. Ham handed. You are playing this game all wrong.” She lifted her hands above the table as far as the chain on the cuffs would allow. “Besides, if I was the one in control, then you would be wearing these and crawling on the floor at my feet where you belong.”

  “Point taken,” I said as I nodded. “But, even though you’re the one who is physically restrained, by the same token you’re in command of the situation. After all, you wanted me here and I showed up. No questions.”

  “Do you really think I do not know that you have been trying to arrange this meeting yourself? We both know you wanted it even more than I. And, we also both know you have questions.”

  “Okay, you got me. I have questions. But don’t we all? At least I haven’t asked them.”

  “Yet,” she spat.

  “True.”

  “But you want to.”

  I shrugged again. “Would you expect any less?”

  “I thought we had established that you are already far less than I had expected?”

  “Because I don’t know who you’re talking about?”

  She shook her head, only slightly, but still enough to be perceptible. “You know exactly who I am talking about. What makes you dim is your belief that you can play stupid with me and that I will buy into it.”

  “Maybe I’m not playing.”

  “Do not continue to insult my intelligence. Do you really think you can fool me? I know everything you are thinking.”

  I steepled my index fingers then tapped them lightly against my pursed lips as I feigned introspection. After a moment I dropped them forward to point toward her. “So you’re going to be the psychologist now?”

  “Psychology is not necessary in order for me to recognize bad acting when I see it. I have already told you that you are not clever enough to play this game with me.”

  “Okay then. No games. Why did you ask for this meeting with me?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “Who’s playing games now?” I asked with a sigh. “Did you call me here just for your own entertainment?”

  “What if I did?”

  I took in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Leaning back in my chair, I cocked an eyebrow and gave her a half shrug. “If you did, then I think you’re easily amused, and to borrow a phrase, we both know that isn’t true. But what can I say? Go for it. Entertain yourself. And when you’re done, we can talk about the real reason I’m here.”

  She arched an eyebrow, slowly glanced over her shoulder at the guard, then turned back to face me. “Have Officer Bardwell remove these
handcuffs and leave us alone, and trust me, I will entertain both of us.”

  “I doubt we have the same ideas about what we find entertaining,” I replied. “So if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll pass.”

  “I thought as much.” She sneered as she gave her head a haughty shake. “It does not matter. You do not have the time anyway.”

  I shrugged at the question. “Time? I’ve got all day.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No. You do not.”

  “Sure I do.”

  “No,” she replied, the corner of her mouth turning up in a wicked smirk. “You would love for me to believe that, but I know better.”

  “Okay,” I conceded. “Then since I’m the dull-witted one here, why don’t you fill me in?”

  “Are you certain you really want to keep trying to play a game you are destined to lose?”

  I clucked my tongue and paused before answering. “Truthfully, I haven’t really been certain about much of anything where you’ve been concerned, except that you’re an evil bitch.”

  She flashed a thin, condescending smile. “Finally… That is the first truly honest thing you have said to me since you arrived.”

  I answered with sarcasm. “Glad I could brighten your day.”

  “Would you like to continue the trend, or shall I do it for you?” she asked.

  “This is your party,” I replied. “Why should I have all the fun?”

  “All right then,” she returned. Shifting in her seat she allowed her expressionless gaze to dwell on my face for several heartbeats before speaking once again. “You do not have all day because you would not last that long and you know it. You are exhausted. You have barely slept and your nerves are on edge. Being this close to me is making you worry, and right now you want nothing more than to call your wife to make sure she is safe since you are not there to protect her. But most of all…you are afraid of her.”

  “I’m afraid of my wife?”

  She furrowed her brow in admonishment. “I really am bored with you playing stupid. I have already pointed out that you are not any good at it.”

  I gave in. “Okay… By her I assume you mean Miranda.”

  “That is twice now with the honesty…. Very good… I am becoming somewhat heartened.”

  I splayed my hands out in a small shrug-like gesture as I rephrased her comment and repeated it back to her, “So you think I’m afraid of Miranda.”

  “I do not think you are afraid of her,” she replied, shaking her head slowly. “I know you are.”

  I sighed then gave her a quick nod of assent. “Okay. I’ll admit that I was once, but not for the reasons you imagine. And, I’m not anymore.”

  “How is it you think you know what I imagine?”

  “Call it an educated guess.”

  She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “No, not the lying again. We were just starting to have a meaningful dialogue.”

  While I had been maintaining a passable front, on the inside I was going down for the third time. No matter how hard I had been trying to wall myself off from her malignant energies, she was finding a way in. The very core of my being was under assault, and the effects couldn’t be contained much longer. I felt like a bomb, and she was holding the dead man switch that would set me off.

  I shifted forward in my seat and growled, “Meaningful to whom? It sounded to me like all you did was state the obvious. Trust me, I’ve seen myself in the mirror today, and I know damn well I look exhausted, so you aren’t telling me anything new. You want honesty, Annalise? Here it is. Everything you just said was a dime store observation anyone could make. Just like you said earlier, no psych degree necessary. So maybe it’s you who isn’t all that clever. Did you ever think of that?”

  She leaned in, mimicking my posture. “Come now, be honest. You really do not believe that.”

  “No,” I admitted, my voice even but still edgy. I huffed out a heavy breath and then sat back. “No, I don’t. I just think you made a horrible error in judgment. Miranda is the one who isn’t as clever as she thinks she is.”

  “Really? How do you know you are not talking to Miranda right now?”

  “I don’t.” I shrugged. In point of fact, from her very first words I knew that’s exactly whom I was talking to, but I lied anyway. “I suppose I could say I know who is riding the horse because of your initial comment to me.” I kept close watch on her eyes as I spoke. I had purposely used the phraseology common in Vodoun to describe the act of a Lwa, or ancestral spirit, inhabiting a corporeal body. I knew it was a transparent attempt to provoke a reaction, but I tried it just the same. However, the reference didn’t even garner a twitch, so I continued. “Or, maybe it’s because you didn’t even blink when I called you Annalise. I think we both know Miranda wouldn’t really care for that. But if I gave you any of those reasons, I’d just be lying and you know it. The real truth is, I have no idea which one of you I am talking to at the moment.”

  She allowed herself an exaggerated sigh. “And it seemed like we were making such progress, but here you are lying to me again. Come now, telling me the truth did not hurt that much, did it?”

  “Only a little,” I replied. “So…before we go any further with this game of yours…”

  She cut me off. “This is not my game. It is yours…”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “Have it your way. So, if it’s my game, then we play with my rules. Time to ante up. What are you wagering?”

  “What about you?” she asked. “What are you putting on the table?”

  “You first.”

  “Greedy, aren’t you?” she replied. “Should you not be happy with what you have already won?”

  “And what would that be?”

  She smirked and cocked her head to the side. “You are alive, are you not?”

  “I see. So then I guess that’s what you meant with your comment about not understanding what she sees in me. Miranda has a soft spot for me so she let me live?”

  She shook her head. “Of course not. You have Annalise to thank for your continued life.”

  I remained silent, eyes locked with hers as she waited for me to react to her purposely-clumsy move. I searched my grey matter for an appropriately biting response but found none. The harsh pain inside my skull had taken its toll and then some. In my mind I tried to blame it on the lack of sleep, but I had been down this road before. It was nothing new, and I had definitely gone longer than just a day without rest and still managed to function. The simple fact of the matter was that I had walked in here unprepared, and Miranda was draining me. In my haste to bring this all to a close I had underestimated her, just as I had done in New Orleans. She had bested me there twice. Now she was doing so here for the trifecta, and it seemed I was handing it to her without much of a fight.

  The longer I sat there allowing this to happen, the more my psychic nerves throbbed, raw and bleeding. She knew this and was mercilessly grinding them under her heel while taking delight in every moment of my inadequately hidden agony. In the grand scheme of things, our verbal sparring had only just started, and here I was already face down on the mat. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had made a fatal error by coming here at all.

  I silently pondered the idea of trying to rally myself enough to at least finish this round. To somehow drag myself up and regain control… But all I could find was a resurgence of my earlier anger, which was now directed at myself more than anyone else. After a moment I simply gave in and allowed it to take over.

  When I opened my mouth once again, my words were laced with venomous sarcasm. At this juncture, I knew the best I could hope for was a stalemate. Of course, given that I’d actually surrendered the game the minute she came into the room, hope and expectation were as always, two completely different things.

  CHAPTER 4

  I shook my head slowly and somehow managed to snort out a short harrumph. “Referring to ourselves in the third person are we?”

  “Are we?” she replied.

 
“Well now… If this isn’t all creepy and spooky I don’t know what is…” As I spoke the words I was simultaneously wavering my hands in the air between us to pantomime the mystical. I stared at her for a moment and then huffed out a second heavy breath while struggling to keep a tight reign on my anger. Weaving more of a sardonic tone into my voice I spat, “And embarrassing too. I mean, what a surprise. I’ve been talking to Miranda this whole time. Whoops. How awkward for me.”

  “Finally, the real truth comes out. You knew with whom you were conversing all along, little man,” she stated without pause.

  “I actually suspected it while you were busy playing stare down with me. Then once you opened your mouth it was fairly obvious. We’ve met before, or don’t you recall?”

  “Of course I remember.” She leaned back in her seat as far as her restraints would allow and then purred, “We have actually met more times than you know.”

  “Believe me, I’ve got a pretty damn good idea,” I countered. “You aren’t exactly forgettable.”

  “Of course I am not.”

  “I hate to burst your bubble, but I didn’t mean that in a good way.”

  “I am sorry to hear that. I enjoyed our times together very much.”

  “Well, I guess that makes one of us.”

  She feigned a melodramatic pout. “You really should not be like that. You see, if you are nice to me I just might keep you around when I take Felicity.”

  There it was, the figurative dead man switch. The trigger she had been squeezing in her fist, just waiting for the right moment to let go. From the moment she walked into the interview room she had been steering everything to this point, and now she relaxed her grip so she could watch me explode.

  No more had the last syllable of my wife’s name been pushed past her lips than I came up to my feet with a wildfire of rage consuming me from within. A sharp, metallic sound ricocheted from the walls as my chair toppled backwards and clattered across the tile floor. It was joined midstream by a loud smack echoing through the room when my left hand came down flat on the surface of the table. Propelling myself into a forward lunge, I thrust my right hand out, clipping her jaw in the process.