Read Online All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation by M. R. Sellars - Free Book Online Page B

vehicle
in my driveway. Right now, none of that mattered to me.
    What did matter, more than anything,
was what had brought the two of us to the brink of a violent,
physical confrontation such as this. And, that, beyond any shadow
of a doubt, would be my best friend. Not my second best friend, but my first, and
absolute, best friend—a
petite, redheaded, Irish-American woman whose name was typed
prominently upon the warrants.
    And, the thing about my dear and lovely wife
that had me on the edge of committing assault against Ben was the
fact that I had just stood here in my living room and watched him
place her in handcuffs then recite to her the Miranda rights of
silence.
    Miranda.
    Now there was irony in all its glory
considering that one simple word, the name “Miranda”, had
everything to do with the head-on collision my life, my friend’s
life, and moreover, my wife’s life had just become.
    Our screaming match was far from over,
and since it was my turn I shouted back, “Something, Ben! You’ve
got to be able to tell me something! ”
    “I told you, I CAN’T!”
    “Fuck that! What you mean is you WON’T!”
    “Goddammit, Rowan! What I mean is I CAN’T! Do
ya’ really think I like this any more than you do?”
    “Ben, you just arrested my wife for murder!
You can’t just do that then walk out like nothing’s happened!
You’ve got to give me some answers here!”
    He huffed out a breath then dropped his
forehead into his hand and allowed it to rest there for a moment
before pushing his palm back through his hair once again. This
time, he left the large paw clamped onto his neck and began working
his fingers against the muscles.
    “I wish I could.”
    “Well, answer me this: Why aren’t you
arresting me too?”
    “We ain’t got a reason. But trust me, it was
mentioned.”
    “Dammit, you don’t have a reason to arrest
her either!”
    “I’m afraid we do, Row.”
    “What is it? Tell me.”
    “Look,” he offered. “I’m not even s’posed to
say this, but all I can tell ya’ is there’s hard evidence that
Firehair might be the one that killed Hammond Wentworth and Officer
Hobbes.”
    I found myself offended by the fact that he
called her Firehair. The use of the friendly moniker he had long
ago dubbed Felicity with seemed inappropriately familiar under the
circumstances. Considering what he had just done, I didn’t feel he
had that right. I started to say something but decided against it
before the words could leave my throat. No matter what my visceral
response to it, the truth is, the hypocrisy I saw in his use of the
nickname really wasn’t what was important right now.
    Instead, I focused on the crux of what he had
just said and made a demand. “What kind of evidence? Surely not the
hairs you said they found at the Wentworth scene.”
    “I can’t say, Row.”
    “Well, whatever it is, it’s bullshit and you
know it. She didn’t kill anyone.”
    “I…she…crap…” he muttered.
    “Dammit, Ben, think about it! If she killed
Wentworth and Hobbes, then why didn’t she kill that character she
picked up at the club?”
    “I dunno. You tell me. For all you know she
might’ve if things had gone different.”
    “No, she wouldn’t have and here’s
why—because she didn’t kill any of them. I told you what was going
on. She was possessed by a Lwa that night.”
    “Dammit, Row, that’s not gonna fly an’ you
know it. Not with my superiors and sure as fuck not with a
court.”
    “It’s still the truth.”
    “Yeah. Maybe.”
    “Maybe?” I snipped. “So now you don’t believe
me either?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “Yeah, well from where I’m standing you
haven’t said much, period.”
    He didn’t reply. He just kept working on the
knotted muscle in his shoulder.
    “So, what’s this hard evidence?” I pressed,
returning to my original query. “Tell me.”
    “I’ve already said more than I should.”
    “Damn you, Ben,” I growled.
    He sucked in a quick breath