The End Of Desire: A Rowan Gant Investigation by M. R. Sellars

in the process.”
    “I know that, Helen.”
    “You need to be careful.”
    “What makes you think I’m not?”
    “I know you too well. You are there alone,
and you do not have anyone to stop you from taking unnecessary
risks.”
    “Yeah,” I muttered. “I suppose you do know
me. Well, I am. Being careful, that is.”
    “I hope you are correct, however, I suspect
that what you perceive as being careful is a far cry from
fact.”
    “You don’t have to mother me. I know what I’m
doing,” I returned, even though I wasn’t sure I believed the
statement myself. Rather than allow it to go any further, however,
I changed the subject. “So, like I said, I called about Felicity.
Not me. Is there any chance I could speak to her?”
    “Yes, there is. In fact, I suspect hearing
your voice might help her mood,” she replied. “Hold on for a
moment, and I will have the switchboard transfer you to her
room.”
    The music filled the earpiece once again,
though this time I thought I might have recognized the tune. I
didn’t get much of a chance to place a title with it, however, as I
was treated to a much shorter wait than when I was originally
placed on hold. The song was abruptly cut short, and I heard my
wife’s voice in its place.
    “Rowan?”
    “Hey…” I said, trying to inject some
liveliness into my tone. “How’s my favorite redhead?”
    “Okay.”
    “Just okay? Helen says you’re doing pretty
good.”
    “Aye,” she muttered, her singsong Celtic lilt
coming through. “Helen should know, I suppose.”
    “Yeah, that’s what she gets paid for.”
    She fell quiet, but I could hear her
breathing softly at the other end. After a long pause I asked, “Are
you still with me?”
    “Aye,” she mumbled. “I’m here.”
    “Would you rather not talk right now?” I
asked, trying desperately to keep disappointment from invading my
voice.
    “No,” she replied then corrected herself. “I
mean… I do want to talk. It’s just… It’s just that it’s so good to
hear your voice right now.”
    “Yours too,” I told her.
    “What about you then?” she asked. “How are
you?”
    “Me? I’m fine.”
    “Breugadair .”
    The accusation actually made me smile. Even
though she had just called me a liar, the fact that she was
interjecting Gaelic into her speech meant that she was much more
her old self than even she realized.
    “What makes you think I’m lying?” I
asked.
    “I’m depressed, Rowan, I’m not stupid.”
    My voice softened. “Can’t get anything past
you, can I?”
    “Of course not.”
    “Well, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll
be fine.”
    “Aye, you haven’t been sleeping, have you?”
She wasn’t really asking, she was telling.
    It was obvious that my powers of deception
were more than a bit anemic lately, but then, according to my wife
they always were. I decided not to even make an attempt at denying
the observation.
    “Not enough,” I admitted. “But, like I said,
you don’t need to worry about me. You need to worry about you.”
    “Worrying about you is part of what makes me
who I am.”
    “Same here,” I told her. “But you need to
concentrate on feeling better. I’m responsible for getting you into
this, and I’ll get you out of it.”
    “How do you figure that you’re responsible,
then?”
    I closed my eyes and gave my head a slight
shake. I knew immediately that I had said the wrong thing, but
there was no way to take it back.
    “That’s not important right now,” I told
her.
    “Aye, it is to me.”
    I let out a cautious breath as I tried to
choose my words. “Let’s just say that if I had never become
involved in Ariel Tanner’s murder investigation all those years
back, we’d probably be having a much more normal life. Maybe all
this wouldn’t be happening.”
    This wasn’t a new thought for me. It
was simply one that I usually kept to myself. But, it had weighed
on me for quite some time. Had I never opened the door to that
other realm by