"Aye, it probably happened when Ben tossed you into the van."

"That's kind of what I was figuring."

She lifted her arm and held it out to me. I reached up, pushed back the cuff of her leather jacket, and looked at the timepiece that encircled her delicate wrist. I found myself stopping to think about the jumble of lines on the display before remembering to mentally flip them over. The lack of sleep was catching up with me.

"Remember to subtract fifteen," Felicity reminded me about her penchant for setting her watch fast, ostensibly so she would always be on time.

I didn't bother to point out to her that she was still habitually late.

The calculation worked out to the time being 8:15 A.M. It had been a little over four hours since we'd first arrived at the crime scene with Ben, but it already felt like it had been a week. Unfortunately, I knew from experience that it was only going to get worse. One of these days I hoped to be able to experience the other side of that coin-the one where it actually got better after the getting worse part.

I lowered my wife's arm back to her lap and turned my head to look out the entrance foyer. The sun had officially peeked over the horizon something around an hour ago, give or take a few minutes. Still, the cloud cover that layered itself over the city wasn't about to relinquish its hold. The muted light that managed to filter downward took on the grey pallor of dusk and oozed in to bring illumination, though not necessarily to brighten the landscape.

I heard my wife rummaging in her pockets as I stared through the windows at a wintry morning in Saint Louis. From where we sat, I could see the upper edge of the city hall parking lot on the opposite side of Clark Avenue. Cars were already filling the spaces as people went about their routines, oblivious to the horror going onbehind these walls. To them, Randy Harper was no more than an unnamed victim of an atrocity that had been reduced to a ten-second breaking-story byte-and even that was only for those who actually caught the morning news.

A part of me wanted to be angered by their apathy, but for once this morning logic prevailed, and I knew they couldn't be blamed. Still, it hurt. It was a throwback to the whole "misery loves company" thing. I was in mourning. In my heart, I wanted everyone else to mourn as well.

What pained me even more, however, was the fact that I wasn't entirely certain that Lieutenant Albright was far off the mark in hanging me for the crime. Perhaps I was an unwitting accomplice in some bizarre, convoluted sense of the concept.

People were dying; friends were dying. Moreover, for all the horrors I saw in my mind, I was powerless to stop it. In fact, I seemed to be at the center of it.

Felicity was still shuffling around behind me, and I finally heard her soft voice filled with deep concern, "Nancy?"

Silence filled the lobby. Even the argument between Ben and Lieutenant Albright had fallen to a level easily muffled by the walls. I could faintly hear the frantic sobbing coming from the earpiece of the cell phone my wife had to her ear.

"I know, I know..." Felicity murmured. "Is someone with you? Good."

I closed my eyes and slowly massaged my temples while listening to the local side of the conversation. My wife was possessed of an intense maternal instinct. Ever since we had adopted this young Coven, they had become like foster children to us.

In many ways, that feeling ran even deeper for her.

"Aye, I know dear, I know. Put Cally on, then," she continued. "Cally? How are you making it? Is Nancy okay? Aye... Aye... I know. Have you spoken to anyone else? Aye, that's good. Gather them. She needs her friends with her. Good. Yes.

That's where we are now..."

I looked back over my shoulder to see my wife nodding gently as she spoke, sadness woven through her pretty face, and eyes glistening with tears that she was barely holding back.

"No honey, don't bring her down here," she instructed as the gentle nod of her head became a semi-vigorous shake. "Not yet. She doesn't need to see him like this."

I reached over, covered Felicity's free hand with my own, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. I didn't envy her at the moment, but I respected her devotion to the Coven and loved her even more for it.

"Aye, make her a strong cup of chamomile and willow bark tea. Aye, keep her grounded, and just listen to her... I know... I know... Yes, Rowan and I will be there as soon as we can... I don't know, dear, I don't know... Aye, it's not good, then... Aye, we'll see you soon, I promise... Remember, just listen to her... Aye, goodbye."

The phone issued a forlorn peep when she disconnected, and she sat there mutelystaring at the device in her hand. A tear broke loose from the well in the corner of her eye and began rolling slowly down her cheek.

"How is she?" I asked.

"Hysterical," she answered softly. "Cally is with her."

"Yeah, I kind of picked that up. What about everyone else?"

"On the way. They'd been contacted by the police already, just like Ben said."

"Good." I nodded.

"How did..."

She anticipated the question. "Nancy was out of town on a business trip. Training seminar or something like that, then."

"Okay."

"This is wrong, Rowan," Felicity made a quiet, almost emotionless declaration.

"It is just wrong."

Silence rushed back into the room, filling the void as the words faded out. I squeezed her hand once again and tried to think of something to say but failed. I knew exactly how she felt, but we had fallen out of sync.

At this particular moment, I was shifting out of the early stages of grief and rushing headlong into anger.

Chapter 8:.

"Aye, where are we going?" Felicity asked from the back seat of the van.

Ben hadn't rubbed more than two words together in the same breath since he'd come through the door and into the lobby of the medical examiner's office. The best we'd gotten was a short "come on" coupled with a jerk of his head as he continued past us and out the front doors. He already had the Chevy started and was waiting impatiently for us by the time we caught up with him.

Now, we were heading through the city, him brooding behind the wheel and paying even less attention to traffic signals than usual. The turns he was taking formed no discernable pattern and fell in place with no particular destination I could imagine. The only thing that was obvious was that we were heading away from the M.E.'s office at an accelerated clip. It seemed, very simply, that he couldn't widen the gap between himself and Lieutenant Albright fast enough.

"Dunno," he muttered in return, keeping with his current trend toward one-word responses and grunts.Thus far, I'd kept my mouth shut, but I was about to lose what little control over my tongue I had left. Knowing Ben as well as I did, I was fully aware that it was best to just leave him alone when he was like this, and he would open up when he was ready. Right now, I didn't consider that an option. I had more than enough on my mind without piling this on top of it. I felt responsible for whatever had gone on behind those doors, and selfish or not, I didn't have time for that guilt to be getting in my way. I was going to clear this slate, and I was going to do it right now.

"All right, out with it," I demanded.

My mood was darkening at a thoroughbred's pace; I had already bypassed coldly succinct and moved full bore into rudely abrupt.

"With what?" he shot back without looking in my direction.

"Whatever you've got going on in your head," I returned. "I know you probably want to yell at me, so just do it and get it over with."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" he asked.

"That whole deal back there with Albright," I pressed. "It's not like we couldn't hear the explosion."

"If you were listenin' in then what the hell are you goin' on about?"

"Aye," Felicity interjected, using her voice to drive a wedge between us before the situation could become any more volatile. "We weren't exactly eavesdropping you know. We could hear voices but couldn't make much out, then."

My wife had placed her hand on my shoulder, and I could feel her acting as a lightning rod, forcing me to discharge at least some of my welling anger.

"Yeah," he huffed as he released the wheel with one hand and smoothed back his hair before allowing his fingers to come to rest on the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know. Got kinda loud, didn't it?"

"Aye, just a bit," she agreed.

"So fill us in," I asked when at least a modicum of calm had crept into my voice.

"Well, I'm not workin' this case anymore if that's what you're askin'."

"But, do you still have a job?"

"Yeah, for now," he answered. "But I dunno how long that'll last."

"So she didn't suspend you?" I asked.

"Nahh," he shook his head as he spoke. "She can't. Not directly anyway. But, she can pull strings, and you can bet she's makin' those calls right now. The other thing she CAN do is kick me off the Major Case Squad, and she did that before I even opened my mouth."

"I'm sorry, Ben," I sighed. "Man, I'm so sorry."

"What're you apologizin' for?"

"For doing this to you, of course." I shook my head. "This wouldn't havehappened if you hadn't been defending me."

"Is that why you think I wanna yell at ya'? Fuck that." He screwed up his face and gave me a dismissive wave. "This was just the sprinkles on the icing for her. Albright has had it in for me from the git-go."

"But..."

"But nothin', white man." He cut me off. "You aren't responsible for this, so give it up."

"Aye, what if she gets you suspended, then?" Felicity asked.

"Then I get a vacation," he offered with a shrug.

"Are you sure about that?" I asked.

"At this stage of the game, yeah," he nodded. "I haven't done anything to get myself shit-canned yet. Reprimanded, yeah. Transferred, maybe. But it's nothin' I can't live with."

"Then why did you come out of there so pissed off?" I questioned.

"Hey, Kemosabe, I was in there with Bible Barb. I seem to recall you losin' it yourself a little earlier. You wanna re-think that question and ask it again?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Besides," he ventured. "She said some shit about you that really got to me."

"Like what?"

"No way, man. I'm not gonna repeat it." He shook his head. "But let's just say the bitch is lucky I won't hit a woman."

"I'm so glad that you're here," Cally told Felicity as she hugged her tight.

"Nancy's upstairs in the bedroom. She just fell asleep a few minutes ago."

"Aye, dear." My wife returned the embrace and spoke in a comforting tone.

"That's good then."

We were standing in the entryway to Randy and Nancy Harper's two-story home on Arkansas, just a block off Grand Avenue in the city. We'd been here several times before when they'd hosted circles for the Coven. Those happier recollections now seemed to dull against the painful sharpness of this new memory in the making.

I glanced around and noticed a small, wheeled suitcase, which was parked at an angle against the wall, pull-handle still extended. It had obviously been forgotten in light of the current circumstances. In the opposite corner, a bentwood coat tree stood at attention beneath a crush of winter outer garments. Next to the stairs, a small, antique telephone table sat with a pile of mail strewn across its top. A digital answering machine occupied one corner, its green power indicator glowing in the muted light of the hallway. I absently wondered why, at times like this, the normally insignificant things around us would stand out in stark contrast to everything else.Without warning and for no apparent reason, they would become illuminated details in a darkened tableau. It was more than just curious to me. In a sense, it was almost disturbing.

"Oh, Rowan..." Cally let her voice trail off for a moment as she released Felicity and wrapped her arms around me. "The police were just here. They looked around for a while and asked a few questions."

I gave her a reassuring pat on the back as I returned the hug, feeling her conspicuous anguish connect with my own purposely subdued emotions. "It's okay, Cally. It's okay. They have to do their jobs."

"She's been asking for both of you," she told us as she pulled away.

"Aye, we're here now," Felicity said. "But let her rest. She'll be needing it."

"Everyone else is here," Cally continued. "They're in the back."

"Go ahead." I nodded to them. "I'll wait for Ben."

"Detective Storm?" the young woman asked. *

"Aye, he brought us."

"He's finding a place to park the van," I added.

"He'll be along in a bit," Felicity told her as she took her arm and guided her back down the hall.

I watched them disappear through a doorway at the end of the corridor, then turned and opened the front door as I heard a familiar voice and shuffling feet on the other side. Ben had just raised his hand to knock as I swung the barrier open and moved to the side.

"How'd you know I was there just now?" he asked as he stepped in through the opening.

"You mean besides the fact that we arrived together?" I asked, not really expecting an answer to the sardonic question.

"Don't be a smart ass. I mean how'd you know I was there right at that moment?

You doin' that hocus-pocus stuff?"

"Nothing quite so ethereal," I answered. "I heard you talking."

He seemed almost disappointed. "Oh. Okay."

I cast a glance outside before swinging the door shut and noticed a uniformed officer getting back into his patrol car, which was parked on the street in front of the house. Moderately sized flakes of snow were beginning to float down from the grey sky, drifting at ever changing angles on the gusts of cold wind.