The Power of Faith: Science Fiction Faith Ferguson Series Book 3

by Andrea M. White

  As it seemed to be usable, Paul brought it into the room, closed the door, and the four of them sat down.

  Paul couldn’t help but laugh at the cramped quarters. And he was surprised, when Muriel laughed, as well. It was his experience that defense attorneys were not usually a jolly bunch during interviews.

  Starting with what, on the face of it, seemed a casual question, Paul asked, “Are things a little easier for you now that Claire’s gone?”

  “I’m sorry she was murdered but whether it’s Claire or Bella with the lead makes no difference to me.”

  “Did you think you’d get the lead with Claire gone?” Paul asked.

  “Right, I killed for this? Be serious. I booked this stupid play before I got my series, now it’s just an inconvenience.”

  “But you didn’t like Claire,” Paul said.

  “There was no ill will between us,” Tiffany said.

  “I heard that you’d had some violent arguments; screaming, props breaking. Sounds like ill will to me,” Paul said.

  Tiffany was silent.

  Ed wondered why she was lying but didn’t ask the question. Paul, however, was about to.

  “Why are you lying?” Paul asked.

  “About what?”

  “About the fact that she was jealous of you,” Paul said.

  “I have no idea how she felt.”

  “Yes, you do. She told you,” Paul said. “She said that you must’ve used sex to get the job.”

  “Fucking, Bella.”

  “So that would be a – yes – you knew,” Paul said.

  Tiffany nodded.

  “Is my client a person of interest?” Muriel asked.

  “Everyone’s a person of interest at this point,” Paul said. “We’re investigating.”

  “I’ve got to get back out there,” Tiffany said.

  “We’re done for now,” Paul said.

  Muriel lingered behind and asked, “Have you had any press inquiries about my client?”

  “No.”

  “That’s good. She’s not actually famous yet, and, in this situation, that’s a plus. Now, I could threaten legal action if word got out that she’d been a person of interest but, in the end, suing you wouldn’t do Tiffany much good. She might lose her show and future roles. So, while I will sue the ass off the City if my client suffers any damage, right now all I’m asking is for you not to destroy a young woman’s career.”

  “We have to solve Claire Spencer’s murder,” Paul said.

  “I understand that. Just try not to destroy Tiffany in the process. She didn’t kill Claire, and she doesn’t know who did.”

  “Well,” Paul said, “we don’t want to cause any unnecessary problems for Tiffany or anyone else.”

  “Are you an entertainment lawyer?” Paul asked.

  “No, of course not. I do criminal law.”

  “Oh,” Paul said. I know you. You represented Max Whitfield.”

  Max was a local athlete who had beaten his girlfriend to death. It hadn’t been their case, but there wasn’t a detective in Boston who hadn’t seen the brutal crime scene photos.

  “You got a guilty man off,” Paul said.

  “The jury said that he didn’t do it.”

  “You’re skilled representation kept them from seeing half the evidence.”

  “That, detective, is my job.”

  “And how are you going to feel when he kills the next time.”

  “If Mr. Whitfield should ever murder someone,” she said using lawyer speak, “I will feel – like crap.”

  Muriel’s candor made Paul laugh.

  She offered a small but appealing smile and left them.

  Closing the door, Paul asked, “What is a young woman doing with her own criminal attorney?”

  “That is the question,” Ed said. “I think we have to dig a little deeper about Ms. Palmero.”

  “We might have a front runner. She’s smart, and might have something to hide,” Paul said.

  “What’s with you. I’m usually the aggressive one.”

  “I don’t care for Ms. Palmero,” Paul said.

  “Doesn’t mean that she killed anybody.”

  “True, and Ron Gould was right about one thing, we need to know more about Claire’s personal life,” Paul said.

  “There wasn’t much at the condo, or on her computer.”

  “We haven’t looked through her phone yet, and from what Bella told us, she had some interesting calls,” Paul said.

  “Let’s go back and see,” Ed said.

  “We can keep at it for a few more hours, but Karen’ll kill me if we end up working tonight.”

  “I don’t think that’d make me too popular with Faith, either.”

  ******

  Ed and Faith pulled up in front of the traditional New England home of Paul and Karen Malloy. It was exactly how you’d envision an average middle-class couple would live; a nice house, well maintained in a middle-class neighborhood. As Ed and Faith’s relationship had solidified over the past year, Saturday night dinners with the Malloys had become a regular event.

  “This feels so good,” Faith said referring to the normalcy of the occasion.

  “I hear that,” Ed replied as they walked up the stairs to a small covered porch.

  Paul greeted them and, they, as always, found their way to Karen in the open kitchen area.

  Ed put two bottles of wine on the counter, as he and Paul went into the family room and began to rehash the day’s events.

  “They do love their work,” Karen said.

  “Sounds like this is a tough one,” Faith said.

  “I was just telling Paul, they’ll get there. They always do.” Then Karen asked, “Are you looking forward to coming back to work?”

  Karen had been concerned that with Faith’s success as an author, she’d reconsider her decision to continue on at the Bourne Street Women’s Shelter.

  “I am. I enjoy the work, and I genuinely like helping people. Some of its selfish, though.”

  “What do you mean?” Karen asked.

  “Writing is a very internal and solitary process and dealing with real life issues gets me out of my own head.”

  “I’m sure it does. Whatever your reason,” Karen said, “I’m looking forward to having you back.”

  “Me too. Anything new?”

  “Not really. Other than the usual challenge keeping the women out of harm’s way, things are chugging along.”

  “Well, I’ll be back on Monday.”

  “Thank God. I really was afraid that you’d come to your senses and go back to your life as an international superstar.”

  “International superstar? Hmm, maybe I should reconsider.”

  Karen threw a dish towel at her, and the two women grabbed their drinks and went in to join their partners in the living room.

  As is not always the case when couples socialize, this group had an easy and genuine rapport between all four members. By the end of the dinner, their conversation had flowed from work at the center to politics both local and national and finally to the case.

  “We’ve got a couple of possibles,” Paul said.

  “No, we don’t. Not unless another motive materializes. We’ve got no motive for Devin, at all. And Tiffany is the one with the big job. She had absolutely nothing to gain by killing Claire.”

  “But we know that they fought,” Paul said.

  “Because Claire was jealous of Tiffany, not the other way around.”

  “I know, but maybe a fight just got out of control,” Paul said.

  “There was no evidence of a fight. It looked like somebody just walked up behind, and …” Ed looked at Faith and Karen and said, “Well, you know.”

  “You mean,” Karen said putting a butter knife to her throat and making slashing motion.

  “Nice, Karen,” Ed said, laughing. “But, yes. I’m more inclined to wonder about Ron Gould. Did he really take no, so well?”

  “No?” Faith asked.

  “The
director wanted to have sex with his leading lady.”

  “Oh, Quelle surprise,” Faith said.

  “She declined,” Ed said.

  “Could be a motive there,” Karen said.

  “He has an alibi,” Paul said.

  “Maybe. We’ll have to see,” Ed replied.

  “I’m glad tomorrow’s Sunday,” Karen said. “Unless there’s some crisis, no work for me.”

  “I’m going in,” Ed said. “I want to keep going through Claire’s phone and computer files. There must be some clue in there.”

  “And, you’re right, we need to check alibis.”

  It was an early night with Ed leaving Faith at her door. A passionate kiss was followed by an apology.

  “I’m not much of a boyfriend during a case.”

  “You’ll do,” Faith said as she stepped onto her elevator.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey, what time did you get here?” Paul asked.

  “Seven, I was curious about what else I could pull off Claire’s phone and laptop.”

  “Anything?” Paul asked.

  “Several texts with Zoe Carl about contract stuff.

  “That’s to be expected. Anything else?” Paul asked.

  “I was just reading her emails. She has an agent back in London who wants her to come home and a couple of job offers here for commercials. But I’ve just scratched the surface.”

  “Let’s go find Mimi,” Paul said giving his partner a look. Walking up to the Blue Moon Bar, Paul asked, “I wonder how he found this place?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s one of those places where nothing good ever happens.”

  The owner heard their voices and came out to see who was there so early in the day.

  The detectives made the obligatory introduction, and Paul asked, “Are you, Mimi?”

  “Mimi O’Brien.”

  Pulling out the program he’d been given, Paul pointed to Devin and asked, “Do you recognize him?”

  She smiled.

  “You do.”

  “He was in here Friday night. Said he was an actor.”

  “Any idea how long he was here?”

  “He came in late in the day, sat reading and drinking coffee for a while before dinner, and he was here till closing.”

  “How do you know that?” Paul asked wondering if she would admit to taking him home.

  “He left with me.”

  “Really.”

  “I don’t do that often, but, look at him,” she said, pointing at his picture in the program. “He’s one fine looking man. And nice enough.”

  “Think you’ll be seeing him again?” Paul asked.

  Mimi laughed and said, “I’m about ten years older than him. I don’t think we’ll be settling down together.”

  “Did he have his car?” Paul thought to ask.

  “No, we took mine.”

  “All right. Thanks,” Paul said.

  She left them sitting at the bar.

  “Somebody else must have had his car,” Ed said.

  “Or, she’s lying.”

  “Next stop, Philip Cabot,” Ed said. “He lives on The Hill.”

  According to Ron, Mr. and Mrs. Cabot had accompanied the Goulds to the symphony and were his alibi for not having been at the theatre when Claire was murdered. Parking was, as usual, a challenge in Boston’s West End. After driving around the block a few times, they finally found a spot about ten minutes from their intended location. Once there, they were quite impressed by the size and condition of the Cabot townhouse. Ed rang the bell, and a housekeeper in full uniform answered the door. After being shown their credentials, she brought them into a formal living room and went to get her employer.

  Mr. Cabot appeared wearing a sports jacket and khaki pants. He had been told to expect their arrival and was gracious to a fault, offering them refreshments and sitting down just opposite them to answer every question.

  “The Goulds and my wife and I have been friends for years. We serve on several boards together.”

  “Boards?” Ed asked.

  “Charities. They’re a great couple. Marci Gould is my second cousin. She was a Sargent before she married Ron.”

  “Was he with you all evening?” Ed asked.

  “Every minute. I don’t even recall him going to the men’s room until we came back here.”

  “Thank you,” Ed said.

  “Are you sure that I can’t have Mary get you something. We’ve just had brunch. It would be no trouble.”

  “No. Thank you,” Ed said. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

  “Not at all. I’m just working on my latest book. I’m a historian.”

  “Oh,” Ed said, “Well, thank you again,” and got up to leave.

  Once out of earshot, Ed said, “I’m a bit more casual when I’m working at home.”

  “He’s a one percenter.”

  “No doubt. You believe him?” Ed asked.

  “I’m inclined to, but he might lie for his cousin’s husband.”

  “Yes, he might,” Ed said.

  Back at their office, Paul said, “We didn’t learn much.”

  “Ruling out is helpful.”

  “You take the phone, and I’ll take the computer,” Paul said.

  About fifteen minutes had passed, when Ed said, “She had another lawyer.”

  “Maybe for the estate stuff. Zoe Carl did entertainment law,” Paul said.

  “We should go see him,” Ed said.

  “Yes, we should. And she and Tiffany were going back and forth about something.”

  “What?” Ed asked.

  “Claire was insisting that they meet. It doesn’t say about what, but they’d set it up for today.”

  “That’s interesting. I’ll call Tiffany and ask her.” There was no response, and Paul said, “No luck, but she’ll keep until tomorrow. Let’s just finish up here for now.”

  ******

  Faith had been experiencing a sense of longing all day. It was more as if she was missing something, than as if she was about to have a premonition. Those came easily, this was a more complicated feeling. Assuming that this new and fairly intense sensation had to be related to being a Fáidh, Faith went into her living room and sat quietly to see if anything happened.

  It took only an instant for her to be transported out of this realm. The speed with which she traveled was shocking to her. She had departed this realm once before, but that had been part of a formal cloaking ceremony. This, however, was unexpected and a whole new experience.

  On the previous occasion, she’d found herself in an endless green field, this time, she seemed to be floating among the stars. And, as with her first experience, there seemed to be no need for her to breathe. This was all very disconcerting, and she was becoming somewhat anxious. Her fear subsided when a being that she clearly sensed was God came to her. He had appeared as a young man when they’d last met, but, this time, he was one with the cosmos. There was no form at all, and yet, Faith knew that he was there.

  True to her nature, Faith said, “This is spooky as hell. Can we go back to the field?” and as she spoke those words, she found herself transported to a scene very similar to the one she had previously experienced, and God, once again, appearing in human form.

  “Better?” the young man asked.

  “Much, but was that Earth’s universe I was in?”

  The young man shook his head and said, “This is an entirely different reality.”

  “Cool. Now, did you call me, or did I somehow call you?”

  “I called you.”

  “Interesting,” she said analyzing the event as if a commentator rather than a participant. “Even though I’d never experienced that before, I kind of knew that. Why did you call for me?”

  “You have questions about your premonition.”

  “Yes, why did I see that murdered girl. I don’t know her, and she’s not Buidseach?”

  “You needed to know.”

  “Now I don’t mean to be disrespectfu
l, you are God, right?”

  The young man nodded.

  “Well then, again, with all due respect, do you have to be so vague? Why did I need to know?”

  The young man laughed, he was genuinely amused by her almost total lack of intimidation.

  “I will give you the information that you need, but you have to live your own life, make your own decisions, and figure things out for yourself. If I tell you something, it’s because you need to know. You are a seer, that is a gift that I have given you. Use it well, and you can do much good. Be aware, be alert and do your best to handle whatever comes your way.”

  “I have a lot of questions about religion, and eternity.”

  “As does everyone, but those, I will not answer. You have to live your life like everyone else. You are special to me, and I will guide you, but you’ll have to discern the meaning of life for yourself.”

  “Why am I special?” Faith asked.

  “I love all of my children, but there are a special few who are meant to help the world. You, Faith of The Blessed, can help mankind if you don’t reject your heritage.”

  “How?”

  “By living as one of The Blessed. The world is a dangerous place and needs your particular brand of humanity.”

  With that, Faith was whisked back to her own realm and was, once again, occupying her earthly form and sitting on her couch.

  While far from routine, and with only two trips to the other realm under her belt, Faith found the experience to have been surprisingly peaceful. She couldn’t help but laugh at herself thinking that she ‘liked’ God.

  Her mind quickly returned to things of Earth, and the fact that she was anticipating the arrival of her cousin Finn Bell. He was more brother than cousin, as he’d been raised by her grandfather and was only six years her senior. The two had spent many happy summers together during her childhood on Unst, the northernmost of the Scottish Shetland Islands.

  This past summer, however, had not been quite as blissful, as there had been an actual warlike confrontation between the black and white factions of the Buidseach community. Fortunately, white had prevailed, and Faith was anticipating their annual Fall reunion in Boston.

  Even before her buzzer rang, she sensed Finn’s arrival. Her heightened senses were new to her, and she was both enjoying and taken aback by them.