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The Power of Faith: Science Fiction Faith Ferguson Series Book 3 Page 5
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The elevator door opened, and Faith rushed over to embrace him. At six feet five inches, and two hundred and thirty pounds of solid muscle, Finn dwarfed her slender frame.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.
“Me too and now, with my restaurant, I’ll be here all the time.”
“I know. It’s great. Hope it goes well.”
“All of my restaurants do well,” Finn Bell said as he retrieved his bags from the elevator and headed upstairs to her second bedroom. Coming back downstairs he said, “My room looks nice.”
“Your room?”
“Yes. Who else stays there?”
“Well,” she said laughing, “your right, nobody.”
“So, it’s my room.”
“Sure, fine. How long will you be here?”
“Long as it takes. The reason my places do well is that I spend time at them. I only had two, and I chose Boston over New York for the third one because you’re here.”
“I’m honored.”
“You should be. This place is going to be great. I can’t wait for you to see it.” Then, changing the subject, he asked, “So, how’s the whole Fáidh thing going?”
Faith gave him a pensive look and said, “Let’s go sit down.”
Finn grabbed a bottle out of her small wine fridge and opened it.
“You grab the glasses,” he said as he led the way to her living room.
Sipping her wine, and looking out over her much-loved river view, Faith relayed her most recent experience with the Divine and her premonition about Claire Spencer’s murder.
“So how do you know her?” Finn asked.
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Don’t you think the connection could just be Ed? It’s his case, after all.”
“No. She’s connected to you or him or some member of your wider clan in some way.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m dia. The whole demi-God, Fáidh, things are similar. Of course, being a demi-God is better. But you saw that last summer.”
“That, I did. You were amazing. Took out the god of darkness all on your own.”
“Being a Fáidh’s good too. You do get to commune. And nobody else gets to do that. Unless we’re being cloaked, and then, that’s only for a short time. You interact.”
“Not sure he’s too crazy about me. I ask a lot of questions.”
“I’ll bet you do. – I’m starving,” Finn said. “Let’s go into the kitchen, and I’ll whip something up. Ed coming over?”
“Mm-hmm. In an hour or so.”
Faith sat on a counter stool and watched as her very own master chef prepared their meal. He was a magnificent sight to behold both physically, with his shock of curly blond hair and bulging muscles, and professionally, with his utter mastery of the art of cooking.
“You’re pretty cool,” Faith said.
Finn smiled. He, after all, agreed with her.
“You’re not so bad, yourself. Was that another book deal I read about in the newspaper?”
“Yes, it’s going to be ghostly. Fun and mysterious ghostly, not haunting or terror ghostly.”
“And how much are we making?”
“Lots,” Faith said with a wicked grin.
“Your eyes are gorgeous,” Finn said.
Faith’s eyes had always been pale amber, which in certain lighting had shown a green tint. Now, they were emerald green. They’d turned that color during the Battle of Unst, and now they popped with eerie clarity through her long black lashes. So bright, that, at times, strangers would stare, and those who’d known her before the battle, almost never failed to comment.
“I kind of like the change. At least my hair didn’t turn snow white, like my mother’s.”
Faith’s mother was Angeal, which was the name used for witches with exceptional powers and psychic ability, and who glowed with angelic light. When Hope’s powers had first revealed themselves, her hair color had undergone a dramatic change.
“Your mom’s hair is beautiful, and she’s beautiful. Maybe prettier than you,” Finn said his eyes dancing.
“We look alike,” Faith said. “But I know what you mean, her features are just a touch more delicate.”
“You’ll do,’ Finn said to his patently stunning cousin.
As he popped his concoction into the oven, Finn said, “Are you sensing danger?”
“I am. I figure it must be related to the murder.”
“You do?”
“Well, I know it’s related to me, somehow. I just don’t know. Maybe I’m too new at this.”
“No. You’re just denying what you’re sensing.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just have some more wine while we wait for dinner to cook.”
“First set the table, lassie. Master chefs do not do setup.”
Faith did as instructed and, it wasn’t long until Finn said, “Ed’s here.”
“I know, and don’t be such a show-off.”
Ed was now armed with Faith’s elevator code, so moments later the door opened, and Ed stepped off. He walked into the living room, gave Faith a huge embrace and rather PG kiss. Then going over to his relatively recent acquaintance with hand extended.
Finn shook it and asked, “When are you two getting married?”
“Finn!” Faith said, “Don’t you think that’s a little personal.”
“No.”
“Well, it is,” Faith said, “so butt out.”
Finn just laughed and went into the kitchen to check on his masterpiece and retrieve a glass for Ed. Coming back, he handed Ed the glass and said, “So how’s the whole Buidseach thing working for you?”
“It’s a dilemma.”
“When to use it, when not to,” Finn said.
“Exactly. It’s fun to play around with it when I’m at home, but Duncan Stewart told me not to use it at work.”
“He’s right about not using your talents for personal gain, but is stopping a murder personal gain?” Finn asked.
“That’s the dilemma. It would help society at large, but it might also get me a promotion,” Ed said.
“I’m with Duncan,” Faith said. “You had no problem solving your cases before you had powers. So, unless you’re in serious trouble, I say don’t.”
After the trio of young Buidseach enjoyed their dinner, Finn asked Ed, “So what powers do you have, anyway?”
“I thought that question was taboo?”
“For a regular witch. It makes you vulnerable to them if they know what you can and cannot do. But I’m more powerful than everybody, so what’ve you got?”
Ed summoned a small cloud to rain outside Faith’s living room window.
“Okay,” Finn said, “elements. And I know you’re a shifter. No need to do your panther thing.”
“Can you transport?” Finn asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t tried. Can you?”
Finn looked mildly annoyed and said, “Streak of light? Recall anything like that at the battle?”
“Yes, but can you transport like Duncan, without changing form?” Ed asked.
Finn couldn’t, and he was annoyed at the question. His only response was “I’m dia. There’s not much I can’t do.”
“So that’s a no,” Ed said laughing.
“And you can’t really read people?” Faith said.
“I can tell if they’re lying and I can compel them. I just can’t read their thoughts.”
“So you can’t do everything,” Ed said.
“Yes, I can. I’m just stronger at some things than others. Now back to you. What else?”
“Well, I can’t read people, but Padraig sent me a book of spells, and I’m getting pretty good at them.”
“What kind of spells?” Finn asked.
“All kinds. I’ll show you.”
Ed looked around the room and saw a pen and notebook on Faith’s desk. He said the words, “Quod congit.”
As he did the notebook open
ed and the pen began to write. A wave of his hand and the pen stopped. He levitated the notebook over to Faith, who smiled and said, “Aww, it says love you lots,”
“Cute,” Finn said not overly impressed.
“That was Latin, right,” Faith said.
“Yes, the books I have are all in Latin. Evidently, some years after The Blessing, they translated most of the spells from Scots Gaelic into Latin so the locals couldn’t read them,” Ed said.
“Tell me about it, I’ve been studying Latin all summer,” Faith said. It was like being back in school.
******
When Devin arrived at Tiffany’s apartment, she was on the phone with her agent. He sat on the bed, listening to her discussion about salary and the start date for filming.
She finished the call in an upbeat mood, put the screenplay for episode one down on her bureau, and said, “Come on we have to get to the theatre.”
As they drove, Devin kept waiting for her to bring up the subject of his joining the cast. Tiffany had assured him that they’d take her input on casting and that several roles remained open.
“How’s the casting going?” he asked.
“I don’t know. We start filming in four months, so I hope it’s going well.”
He stopped the car in the middle of the road.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy? You’ll get us killed.”
Cars behind them were beeping, but Devin wouldn’t budge.
“You said, you’d get me a role.”
The beeping, now an unending din, continued.
“I tried. They didn’t want you,” she said.
“Your lying. They would have at least tested me if you asked. I’ve got a good resume. Way better than yours. They might not have hired me, but they would have given me a test.”
At this point, a man from the car directly behind them had gotten out and was banging on the driver’s side window yelling, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Devin waved him off and started the car.
As they parked behind the theatre, Devin asked, “Is there a morals clause in your contract?”
Tiffany wasn’t easy to rattle, but this shook her. She hadn’t really read the contract carefully enough to know about a morals clause, but she didn’t want to be known as the prostitute actress for the rest of her life.
Keeping her cool, she replied, “I have no idea. Why do you ask?”
“Cuz you’re a hooker.”
“That’s absurd.”
Devin reached for his backpack which had been lying on the back seat and pulled out his laptop. Tiffany was about to get out when he held it up showing a website with her picture prominently displayed. It was coeds for hire.
She was shocked. That website had been taken down some time ago. Sitting back down she said, “You falsified that, and I’m going to sue you.”
“This,” he said pointing to a URL “is a website where you can find sites that have been deleted. Anybody can access it, and when I get done with you, everybody will. By the way, did you fuck the director? Is that how you got the job in the first place. Claire was prettier, and she could act rings around you. I’m sure enquiring minds will want to know.”
He got out and walked away. He didn’t really have to have a role on her show, he was confident that work would continue to come his way, but he wanted it. It also annoyed him that he’d been duped. He didn’t like being on the receiving end of behavior that was far too similar to his own. As Devin walked into the theatre, he wondered if his threat would get her to, however reluctantly, get him in the cast. If so, great, but, if not, he’d just leave it alone. He didn’t want his own career being sullied by dropping a dime on Tiffany.
******
Faith awoke from a sound sleep and glanced at the clock. It was three-thirty in the morning. Usually a sound sleeper, she was surprised to be awake that early but just put it to residual jet lag. Trying not to disturb Ed, who was sleeping peacefully next to her, Faith made her way out to the kitchen and put the kettle on for some herbal tea.
Sitting at the counter, Faith was surprised to have another vision. This one, however, she understood. There was a woman in what looked to be a mental hospital. A woman she recognized. The vision was brief but disturbing. Faith, however, did not dwell on it. Instead, she drank her tea and went back to bed.
Chapter Four
Driving across town, Faith was pleased to be, once again, about to ply her new trade as a psychologist at the Bourne Street Women’s Shelter. It was a stark contrast from her life as a successful and acclaimed author, where everything was about her, and her work.
“Hi everybody,” Faith said, as she entered through the kitchen door. “I’m Dr. Faith Ferguson. I’ll be here with you on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings from now on.”
The women introduced themselves and Faith said, “I look forward to getting to know all of you, but, right now, I’m going up to my little office in the attic. As soon as I get settled in, I’ll come back downstairs.”
Faith opened her locked cabinet to see what, if any, files were inside, but at that moment she was somewhat distracted by the vision she’d had in the early morning. It had involved Margaret Dunham, the woman who had masterminded Faith’s kidnapping, nine months earlier. Faith had chosen not to share her vision with Ed, or anyone else in her family because she knew they’d be worried about her. Not to mention that at the time of the incident, considering Maggie an ongoing threat, Faith’s mother had wanted Maggie eliminated. Faith had not. She, like Duncan Stewart, believed in a proportional response. Maggie was now in Patterson Hospital a facility for women who have been judged to be criminally insane. While she wouldn’t ignore her vision, Faith wasn’t about to overreact, either. She did, however, decide to look into the situation and would start her investigation with Maggie’s second in command, Laura Duchene. Laura had pleaded guilty to kidnapping and assault and was serving a fifteen-year sentence, although Faith didn’t know where.
Following the links from the Boston Police Department’s website, Faith found out at which Massachusetts correctional facility Laura was serving her time, and the procedures for visiting her. Using the website, Faith submitted her visitor request forms. She filled out one for Laura as well as one for her primary nemesis, Maggie, figuring, rightly, that any threat she faced would come directly from her.
Then, to speed the process along considerably, Faith called one of her favorite professors from her PhD program.
“Faith, how are you?” Dr. Daniel Ryan asked.
“I’m well.”
“Are you using your degree?”
“I am. Three mornings a week working with Karen Malloy at the Bourne Street Women’s Shelter.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. I was afraid you’d just put it on the shelf and go back to writing.”
“No, Dr. Ryan all of your efforts have not gone to waste. Listen, I need a big favor.”
“What?”
“I just put in visitor request forms for Maggie Dunham and Laura Duchene. Do you think that you could expedite them?”
“Well, I have a whole bunch of questions about that,” Dan said.
“We can chat when I come over to see Maggie, but could you just trust me for now.”
Dr. Ryan paused for a moment and said, “Okay, Dr. Ferguson, expediting state bureaucracy is not an easy ask, but I’ve got a friend …”
“I’m sure you do,” Faith said knowing about Dan Ryan’s near-legendary ability to work the system.
“I’ll get you in, but you come to see me before you see Margaret, okay?”
“Will do,” Faith said not knowing exactly what she’d tell him when they met.
Karen Malloy came up the stairs carrying a small stack of folders.
“Here’s everything I’ve got on our current residents,” Karen said.
“I can’t wait to get back in the groove. And the place seems full to the brim.”
“It is, and some of these women have really been through it.”
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“I hope I’m up to the task.”
“You are. You should read the recommendation that the dean wrote for you, and besides that, what these women need most is a kind ear.”
“Well, as you will recall, our boys didn’t exactly think that I was too kind.”
“The women need kindness and honesty, not enabling, and you were spot on with Angela Wall. She was abusing her housemates, and it was time for her to go.”
“How are you feeling, anyway?” Faith asked Karen who’d been shot, and nearly killed during the previous winter’s drama.
“Still have some pain when I pick up anything heavy, but overall I’m doing fine.”
“Maggie Dunham and her crowd caused a lot of trouble,” Faith said.
“That she did. I heard that she’s in a mental hospital,” Karen said.
“She is. Ed was concerned that it wasn’t a prison, but I can’t think she’ll ever get out. She was pretty out of it when I last saw her.”
“When was that?” Karen asked.
“Right after she kidnapped me. Paul let me visit her in the hospital for a minute. Laura Duchene’s in prison, but she’s in better shape, mentally. She pleaded guilty to kidnapping and got fifteen years.”
“That’s kind of a shame because she was a classic PTSD. Although Paul said that they took that into consideration,” Karen said.
“She’s still doing jail time.”
“She kidnapped you, broke your arm, and was about to castrate Ed. She needed jail time,” Karen said, suddenly feeling less sympathetic.
Laughing, Faith said, “Yes, Ed still has nightmares about that.”
“Well, it’s funny, but it isn’t. Plenty of people who’ve suffered trauma wouldn’t have signed on with Maggie or become a vigilante. She made that choice, and she knew what she was doing,” Karen said.
“That is true. So, give me the lowdown on the women here.”
Karen proceeded to go over each resident’s history, and then Faith said, “I’ll want to spend some time reading these in detail, and I have a couple of things that I need to finish up for myself if that’s okay.”
“I didn’t expect you to start officially seeing clients until next week anyway.”
“That’s good. I could use a little time to decompress.