"I think that you do."

"Well maybe you're wrong for a change."

"Perhaps. No one is ever correct one-hundred percent of the time," she admitted. "However, I would hazard to say that this is not one of the times when I have fallen from my pedestal." She made an overt show of rocking back and forth as if checking her footing. "No, it feels quite solid. I am still up here."

I couldn't help but crack a thin smile at her theatrics. I knew that while she was serious, this brush with humor was her attempt at bolstering my mood, which was sinking rapidly. What made it even more effective was that it was so out of character for her.

"Well," I began, allowing the brief levity to push me into a fragile sense of security. "It's complicated. How much do you know about what has been happening with the Hammond Wentworth homicide?"

"Very little," she replied. "Benjamin has not spoken of it except to say that you and Felicity had been helping."

"Nothing else?"

"He did let slip that the two of you were somehow involved in an incident last week that became somewhat of a problem. However, he did not provide any details."

"Incident," I echoed. "That's one word for it."

"Well, I will admit that when you called I suspected that it had something to do with what Benjamin had mentioned. The nightmare, I had not foreseen, however it is obvious to me that there is a connection."

"Well, there's no denying that," I answered with a heavy sigh then took a pull on my cigar and rolled the smoke around on my tongue. After letting it out in a slow stream, I regarded the dark cylinder as I twisted it between my thumb and forefinger. Finally, I looked up at Helen who was waiting patiently. "So, do you have enough time for me to start at the beginning?"

Without speaking she reached into the pocket of her coat and extracted her cigarette case. Snapping it open, she peered into the top then closed it and returned it to the pocket.

Looking back at me she said, "I have a little more than a half pack with me. I think we are good."

I shook my head and almost allowed myself to chuckle at the seriousness with which she had delivered the reply. Had the situation been different, I suspect I wouldn't have been able to keep from laughing outright.

"Okay, I'll try to keep it as short a possible," I began. "About two weeks ago, right at the height of the flu epidemic, Felicity got a call from Ben. Apparently there was a high profile crime scene that needed photos."

"Judge Wentworth," Helen interjected.

"Exactly."

"I know Felicity is a photographer, but why did Benjamin call her? Is that not something that should have been handled by the police?"

"Under normal circ.u.mstances, yes. But, the flu had pretty much taken the majority of the Crime Scene guys out of commission. Felicity has evidence photography training, and she's on the short list of freelance contractors the department calls for specialized techniques, like infrared, painting with light, that sort of thing. Anyway, since the scene was high profile, and the Crime Scene Unit was on a skeleton staff, they decided to bring in a freelancer, so they would know all of the bases were covered."

"Ahhhh," Helen nodded. "And, Felicity got the call."

"Pretty much. From what I understand, they went down the list and she...actually I...was the first one to answer the phone."

"I see. Sorry to interrupt. Please, go on."

"Not a problem. Anyway, I'm sure you've probably seen some of the news reports, so you're aware that Wentworth's body was found in a motel in a bit of a compromising situation?"

"Yes, of course. As I recall it had something to do with bondage, did it not?"

"Yeah. Apparently Wentworth was into the whole kidnap and torture game. No biggie in my book. I mean, whatever does it for you as long as it's between consenting adults. Problem is, it looks like something went way south with the scenario because he was found with the back of his head sprayed all over the bathroom wall."

Helen held up her hand, "Please...consider yourself free to spare me those sorts of details unless you really feel them to be important."

"Sorry," I apologized. "I didn't realize you were squeamish."

"Only about certain things, but that is all right. Continue."

"Okay, well our first thought was that he had been purposely executed, but something didn't feel right about the scene to either Felicity or me."

"What were you doing there?"

"Helping Felicity."

"Helping her, Rowan, or trying to protect her?"

I looked over the top of my gla.s.ses at Helen. "Does anything get past you?"

"Usually, no."

"Okay, guilty. Either way, I was there and the whole scene just felt weird. You could actually sense the s.e.xual arousal and such in the room, but that wasn't what struck us. The bizarre thing was that there was no lingering sense of fear, like you would expect if the whole scenario had been a real kidnapping. Still, Ben didn't rule it out because the whole thing could have been a setup. Plus, while he listens to me when I say I have a feeling, as we know, not everyone else does.

"Anyhow, since Wentworth was actually known to have a history with prost.i.tutes that had been getting swept under the carpet for a while, he looked into it. After doing a little digging, it came to light that the whole kidnap and torture victim fetish was his particular kink. So, things added up in that respect, but there was still something weird going on."

"How so?"

"Felicity," I said in a matter-of-fact tone. "She started acting strange. It began with her acting...well...kind of...I guess the only delicate way to put it is s.e.x starved. She was just plain insatiable. And, if that weren't enough, she turned into a complete b.i.t.c.h."

"b.i.t.c.h?" Helen echoed. "That is certainly not a word I would have ever expected you to use in conjunction with your wife, Rowan."

"Tell me about it, but that's what happened. She would actually get herself aroused by berating me, or in some instances, by actually physically abusing me."

"I believe I see a rather obvious connection with your nightmare now."

"Yeah," I grunted. "Kind of brings it all into focus, doesn't it? Anyway, it was at about this time that I found out my dear, sweet wife actually has a history with the BDSM community."

"Yes."

"Yes?" I repeated, slightly puzzled. "You don't seem particularly surprised by that."

"Actually, I was already aware of it."

Slight puzzlement became brow-furrowing confusion. "I'm sorry? I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

"Remember, Rowan. Felicity has sought my counsel as well. She shared her proclivities with me quite some time ago."

"Well, that's interesting," I said in a mild huff. "Because she never bothered to tell me."

"Until now, obviously."

"Well, yeah."

"And did she give you a reason why she did not tell you before now?"

"What she said is that she was afraid I might not be open to the idea and that I would stop loving her."

"Yes. That was her concern when she spoke of it to me."

"But, she knows me better than that."

"Does she?"

"Of course she does."

"Contrary to what you may believe, Rowan, everyone has secrets. They do not necessarily keep them secret to harm or injure. Sometimes they do so in order to protect. You are a perfect example."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. How often have you lied, or simply twisted the truth, in order to protect Felicity from what you perceived as harm?"

"That's different," I objected.

"Actually, no it is not. You are simply too close to see that."

"Maybe," I half-agreed. "But she lied to me about our relationship."

"No, Rowan, she did not. She simply repressed one of her own desires in order to protect her relationship with you. She never lied."

"You're splitting hairs."

"No, I am stating a fact."

"Okay, fine," I said with a nod. In my heart I knew she was correct, so further objections wouldn't do any good. "So, what else did she tell you?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss that. Her sessions with me are confidential, as are yours."

"But you just..."

She cut me off. "I simply told you something you already knew, because she had told you herself. Please, do not ask any more about things you know I cannot discuss. Now, continue your story."

"I'm not sure that I'm comfortable with that, given what you just..."

"Rowan, you need not worry. Your wife adores you, which is the very reason she repressed this aspect of her s.e.xuality to begin with. Believe me when I tell you there is nothing else you need to know. Now, please...go on."

"Well, I don't really see the point..."

"I, however, do."

"Okay," I huffed. "Anyway, things really escalated a couple of days later when Officer Hobbes was found dead in a motel. This time there was absolutely no question about the whole B and D, S and M thing. All of the trappings were right there in plain sight. But, this time there was a new twist to the scene. Artifacts were present that lead me to believe some sort of convoluted Voodoo ritual had taken place."

"Voodoo?"

"Yeah, Voodoo. Well, a horribly b.a.s.t.a.r.dized version of it really. I'll leave out the gorier details since you asked me to, but let's just say it was twisted. What happened in that room may have started out as consensual s.e.x play, but that's not how it ended. It also didn't have anything to do with true Vodoun religious practice...it was just sick...

"What's even worse is that once again there was an overwhelming sense of female s.e.xual arousal permeating the room. Almost to the point of being stifling-for me anyway. It was then that I was absolutely positive the killer was a woman and that she had literally gotten off on torturing this man to death."

"You felt it deeply, didn't you, Rowan?" Helen asked.

The tenor of her question told me she already knew the answer, but I gave it to her anyway. "Yeah. From both sides of the fence, actually."

I paused and absently attempted a drag on my cigar only to find that it had gone out once again. Instead of relighting it, I simply fiddled with the band, twisting it in an endless circle.

"Anyhow," I continued. "Felicity had a meeting with a client that morning, so she didn't go to that crime scene with me. But, while I was standing there talking to Ben, she just suddenly showed up. The problem was, it wasn't really her. She was acting haughty and abusive to everyone, calling herself Miranda, and had even started speaking with a heavy Southern drawl. That's about the time I started doing the math and figured out she was being possessed by a Lwa."

"Low-ahh?"

"Kind of a high ranking ancestral spirit in Voodoo culture. They are more or less the pantheon of G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses that Vodoun pract.i.tioners worship. During rituals they will invite Lwa into their bodies. They call it being ridden, and the pract.i.tioner is then called the horse for the particular spirit. That's basically how the ancestors speak to them from the afterlife.

"The thing is, though, Lwa aren't evil beings that run about torturing and killing. In a rudimentary sense they are messengers. Because of that, I figured that this particular spirit wasn't a generally accepted Lwa but instead had to be one that this person elevated to G.o.dhood in her own mind."

"Thank you for the primer. However, I still do not understand what this spirit has to do with Felicity? Why would it choose to possess her?"

"That's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, Helen. I'm not sure either, but I can tell you that Felicity was being ridden by someone or something who wasn't particularly friendly, and that's when the so-called incident occurred.

"In a nutsh.e.l.l, after physically a.s.saulting me and managing to twist the situation such that it got me arrested instead of her, my wife disappeared. Well, actually while Ben was getting me out of jail, she went home and changed clothes."

"That seems to be an odd thing to do."

"Normally, I'd agree, but given where she was heading, it actually made a bizarre kind of sense. So, anyhow, Ben called Agent Mandalay and asked her to stop by our house just on the off chance that Felicity went there. When she arrived, Felicity was in fact still in the house, but things went south. Felicity-actually at that point, Miranda-a.s.saulted Agent Mandalay, somehow managed to get the upper hand then took her weapon and really did disappear for a while.

"Obviously, we managed to find her but only after several hours. And, this is why the change of clothes-she went over to a fetish nightclub on the East side, picked up a guy, and took him back to a motel."

Helen looked at me, a note of concern in her face. "But, surely she did not kill him, did she?"

I shook my head. "No. The Lwa jumped ship before she got that far. She did manage to do a serious number on him with her high heels, though. Literally trampled him until he was b.l.o.o.d.y and unconscious."

"Do you have any idea why the possession ended so suddenly?"

"Actually, that's typical for a Lwa possession. They pop in and pop out. Although, I don't have an answer for why this one didn't complete its task before it left. I suppose it could be because taking over Felicity had to be some kind of accidental collateral possession-because she doesn't practice Voodoo and certainly didn't consciously invite it in, that I'm aware of.

"In fact, prior to showing up at the Hobbes crime scene, she would tend to fight it whenever she would realize an attack was happening. Of course, that was before I had a handle on what it actually was, so I wasn't much help in that department. Anyway, I suspect she was still trying to fight it to some extent even then, so I guess it was kind of like a host rejecting a transplant or something of that sort. But, that's only a pet theory. Either way, I'm just glad she didn't kill the guy."

"How serious did his injuries turn out to be?"

"She hurt him pretty bad," I replied. "He spent a day in the hospital, which I'm sure I'll end up getting a bill for. But, when the cops talked to him, he refused to press charges against her. Seems he actually liked getting stomped on by her so much he wants to 'submit to Mistress Miranda' again. He somehow even managed to make the connection between Felicity and the pseudonym. Probably from the cops would be my guess since he was actually being urged to press charges. Anyhow, he got her business number and has called several times."

"I am sure that is disconcerting for Felicity."

"Yeah. She was a bit freaked out at first. After the fifth or sixth time though, she just switched on a whole alpha female persona and ordered him to stop calling her. That seemed to do the trick, for now at least."

"Obviously you think he will call again."