The Law Of Three: A Rowan Gant Investigation by M. R. Sellars Page A

for pocket change. Gutted it
and rehabbed it himself. Kind of like you and Allison did with your
place.”
    “He did a hell of a job.”
    “Yeah. Yeah he did.” I frowned as I nodded.
The past tense references were sickening reminders of why we were
here.
    “So,” Ben spoke after a moment of awkward
silence, still keeping his voice at low volume. “How’s she
doin’?”
    “Nancy?” I raised an eyebrow. “She’s asleep
upstairs. Everyone else is in the back.”
    “Probably good for ‘er,” he replied.
    “Yeah, for now,” I agreed before proceeding
into voicing a worrisome thought. “Cally said someone from the
department was already here. They aren’t going to descend on this
place and turn it into a circus are they?”
    “Nahh.” He shook his head. “They shouldn’t
anyway. Copper outside said it was Murv from the CSU and Osthoff
from Homicide. Matter of fact, we just missed ‘em. They couldn’t
find anything though. Looks like Porter didn’t grab him from
here.”
    “A clue would have been nice,” I said. “But
in a way, I’m glad they didn’t find anything. Here anyway. Nancy
doesn’t need them crawling all over the house right now.”
    “Yeah. Prob’ly not,” he agreed.
    “So is the officer outside going to hang
around or what?”
    “He’s stayin’ put. There’ll be someone
assigned to watch these kids ‘round the clock.”
    “That’s good.”
    “Ya’know, Rowan.” Ben reached up and massaged
his neck for a moment. “You once told me that there’s a huge number
of Pagans in Saint Louis…”
    I gave a vigorous nod as I confronted his
unspoken comment. “There are, but I suspect that they will be safe
this go around. For now, anyway. Porter is after me personally, and
the only reason he killed Randy was to bait me.”
    “Yeah, that was kinda obvious. So, I don’t
wanna sound crass or anything, but considerin’ your track record,
couldn’t he have just killed any Pagan on his list?”
    “Yes and no,” I answered.
    “You think he’s really plannin’ all this that
deliberately?”
    “I don’t know. He’s not stupid, Ben. I’m
betting he’s done his homework. He knows that re-initiating the
spree he went on a year ago would draw me out, but I think he wants
more than that.”
    “Yeah, he wants you dead, white man.”
    “Exactly, but just getting me out of hiding
isn’t going to make that happen. He has to get me vulnerable and
unprotected.”
    The look on his face told me that my comment
was merely verbal corroboration for his own theory. “So killin’
Randy was his way of tryin’ to piss you off then. Just like the
note about Felicity.”
    “And knock me off balance. That’s how I see
it, anyway,” I agreed and then continued with an explanation of
Coven dynamics. “Groups like ours are literally a family unit
within Pagan culture. There is a bond within a core of a Coven that
can often times be stronger than blood relation. Going after any
one of these kids is the same as going after one of my own. It’s
the difference between killing a stranger and killing a family
member.”
    “Yeah,” he sighed. “I had a feelin’ that’s
what this was all about. I just wanted to hear it from you before I
opened my mouth.”
    “Glad I could help,” I replied, my voice
short on emotion.
    “You’re right,” he told me. “He’s not stupid.
You came after him by yourself once, so he figures he can make it
happen again.”
    “Yeah. Simple as it sounds, I’d have to say
that’s his plan.”
    “Well, he’s screwed ‘cause you ain’t gonna do
that, white man.”
    “That remains to be seen.”
    My friend took on a hard expression and
thrust two fingers stiffly against my chest. “That wasn’t a
question, Row. It was a statement of fact. You’re NOT doin’ it. Not
this time.”
    “Okay,” I returned in order to appease
him.
    “I’m serious as a heart attack, white man,”
he detailed, still trying to keep his voice low as it developed a
stern edge.