All Acts Of Pleasure: A Rowan Gant Investigation by M. R. Sellars Page B

reached anyone at the university at
all.
    “No offense, but probably not,” I
replied. “I’m calling from Saint Louis, and I need to speak with
the doctor about something in her book, Voodoo Practice in American Culture .”
    I glanced at the corner of my desk where the
tome was resting atop a pile of other books, all with the same
general subject matter, Afro-Cuban religion and mysticism.
    “I’m sorry, sir, but all queries regarding
Doctor Rieth’s books should be made via the University Press,”
Kathy replied, launching into a decidedly prepared sounding spiel.
“The address can be found…”
    “I understand that,” I spoke up, truncating
her instructions. “Please understand that I’m not looking for an
autograph or trying to dispute her or anything like that. I’m doing
some research regarding a murder investigation here, and I think
she might be able to help me.”
    There was no reply from the other end, but I
could still hear background noise, so I knew she hadn’t hung
up.
    “Hello?” I said.
    “Yes, I’m here,” the assistant replied. “I’m
sorry. Where did you say you were calling from again?”
    “Saint Louis, Missouri, why?”
    “Just curious. Doctor Rieth received a call a
year or so back from a police officer in South Carolina regarding a
murder investigation.”
    My curiosity was immediately piqued. “Really?
Do you remember any of the details?”
    “No,” she replied. “And, honestly, I really
shouldn’t have said anything.”
    “That’s okay, I won’t tell,” I replied half
jokingly then moved on rather than risk alienating her. “Is there
any way I can reach Doctor Rieth? It’s very important.”
    “I’m afraid not,” she replied. “She is
scheduled to return the Monday after the holiday however.”
    I wasn’t excited about the wait, but it was
just that time of year, so there was little I could do. I went
ahead and asked, “Do you think it would be possible for me to leave
a message for the doctor then?”
    “Yes sir, I can certainly do that,” she
answered. “Which police department are you with again?”
    “I’m actually an independent consultant,” I
explained then took the truth and wrapped it into an interwoven
pretzel before relaying it to her. “I’m currently working with the
Greater Saint Louis Major Case Squad.”
    It wasn’t a complete lie, but I hoped that
the doctor didn’t elect to verify my story because under the
current circumstances, I was betting no one would be willing to
back me up.
    I finished giving her my contact information
and bid her a pleasant afternoon before hanging up and pondering
what the young woman had just let slip. Hopefully, if and when
Doctor Rieth returned my call, she would be willing to share a bit
more about what she had consulted on in South Carolina.
    I picked up a pen and jotted a quick note
about it in a steno pad I had been using for keeping track of my
research. I heard the dogs barking outside and wondered for a
moment if they were wanting back in the house. I started to get up,
but they quieted down before I could get completely out of my seat,
so I figured it must be a taunting squirrel or simply a passerby.
When I settled back into the chair, however, a familiar prickling
sensation crawled across the back of my neck as I felt my hair
pivoting at the roots.
    I reached up and rubbed the offending spot as
I looked around the room. I couldn’t imagine a reason for the brief
attack of shivers. It faded quickly so I tried to put it out of my
mind.
    Returning to the materials I had at hand, I
shuffled through the stack of books on my desk and withdrew another
one, heavily laden with bookmarks protruding from the end, and
flipped it open to the copyright page. I was just about to begin
typing in the publisher’s website address in search of contact
information for the author when I heard the doorbell ring.
    Now I had my answer as to why the dogs had
been barking.
    I knew Felicity was downstairs in