There was no sign of any activity within the house, and since there were no longer any Buidseach involved, Duncan would not use any of his powers. He was a talented and experienced detective, and he would use those skills alone.
Sitting in his car, texting with his new ‘girlfriend’ about their plans for that evening, Duncan was quite content, and almost missed the vehicle that pulled up a couple of cars ahead of him. But he didn’t miss it and couldn’t believe his luck.
The man pulled back the police tape and went inside, so Duncan figured that it was likely their suspect. Since he was using his no magic rule, he had to let the Boston Police take him in; as the man was surely armed, and Duncan was not.
A quick call to Ed brought a contingent of police to make the arrest. As was often the case, Duncan was concerned when he saw the age of the officers responding. It wasn’t just that they were in their twenties, it was that while he looked to be about thirty, he was forty-five. And while he had the prowess of a young man, he had the experience of a veteran officer. So, he sat, worried for their safety but unable to assist them.
In spite of their attempt at stealth, shots rang out. This man had proved himself a killer and was not going down without a battle. Duncan saw one after another of the three officers fall. That was it, he was in, and this killer was not getting away. As a shifter, he could, and would, transport. He just needed the gunman to open a door or come out of the house, which he did.
Seeing the officers down the suspect darted out of his house and toward his car but before he got off his steps, he was hit but an invisible force and knocked out cold. Duncan grabbed the cuffs off one fallen officer’s belt, secured the gunman, and tried to assist the injured.
Duncan called for help, and, along with the emergency personnel, Paul and Ed arrived.
“Thought you didn’t have a death wish,” Ed, said.
“Couldn’t leave these poor kids on their own,” he said quietly.
“Break your rule?” Ed asked.
“No. My rule is except in emergencies, and this was an emergency.”
Duncan looked over each of the officers as they were put in the ambulances, walked back to Ed and said, “They should be okay.”
“You’ll need to come down and make a statement,” Paul said more than a little confused as to how Duncan took down the gunman.
Glancing at Ed, Duncan said, “Of course,” while wondering exactly how he’d explain it himself.
As Ed and Paul went down the front steps, Ed said, “Well, that wraps up the situation with Aaron Sinclair. Now all we have to deal with is Claire Spencer’s death.”
“And when that’s done,” Paul said, “I think I need a change.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, you say that you’re not leaving, but, I’m a detective, remember? Something’s up. You don’t have to tell me, but – That one guy just took down an armed suspect, on his own, without a weapon, and you don’t even comment on it.” Paul walked away for a minute, then turned back and said, “You’ve got a right to do whatever you want, but so do I. I’m going to ask to be reassigned.”
Duncan had been just a few steps behind, and, as Paul walked toward Ed’s car, he said, “Go fix that.”
Ed looked at Duncan. There was no rule about sharing their secret, but for self-preservation, it was not done lightly.
“Should I tell him?” Ed asked.
Duncan nodded and said, “Keep it simple. You can always tell him more, but – Of course, we could compel him.”
“Never,” Ed said.
“That’s the right answer. It would be an abuse.”
“What do I do?” Ed asked.
“Like I said, keep it simple.”
“Simple, there’s nothing simple about it,” Ed said.
“Keep to the basics. It’ll freak him out, but if he can’t handle it, we can wipe him, and if he can, you’ll have your partner back.”
Paul was standing by Ed’s car and wishing that he hadn’t issued his ultimatum when Ed was his ride.
During the events of the previous winter, Paul, not unlike Ed, himself, had been willing to let logic rule and ignore the pesky questions that kept popping up during their investigation into the Bourne Street murders. That situation, after all, mainly involved Faith, not Ed. Now, however, something was going on with his partner, a man he considered more brother than friend. He was not only concerned; he was hurt.
Catching up with his partner, Ed said, “Get in.”
“I don’t have much choice,” Paul said almost petulant.
“Do you want to know what’s fucking going on, or not?” Ed said as they drove off.
There was no conversation between them as Ed drove to his apartment.
While not a frequent visitor, Paul had been there before, and as they pulled up, he asked, “What’s at your place?”
Ed didn’t respond, he just got out of the car, and Paul followed him inside.
He poured them each a beer and Paul was about to say that he didn’t want a drink he wanted answers but he barely got the words, “I don’t,” out when Ed said, “You’re gonna need it. Take the beer and sit down.”
“Are you in trouble?” Paul asked.
“No. Not at all, but you’re going to think I’m nuts. So, for a few minutes, just go with it, okay?”
“All right,” Paul said.
“No, really, I need you to listen.”
“I said all right.”
“You know that last year, Maggie thought Faith was a witch.”
Paul nodded.
“Well, make no mistake about it, Maggie’s mentally ill, and she had only the flimsiest of reasons to think that Faith had any magical powers. On one occasion, she’d seen Faith stop a mugger by simply telling him to stop. That was it. Everything else was her own delusion. Are you clear on that?”
“The guy probably just thought better of it.”
“That’s what I believed and, frankly, what Faith wanted to believe. It turns out that people can have some occult powers.”
Paul looked at him.
“You promised,” Ed said.
Then he looked at his now much healthier Ficus tree and pointed his finger toward one branch which immediately grew a foot while sprouting leaves.
Paul, suddenly thinking that this was a prank, got up, picked up the plant by its large ceramic pot, and said, “That’s great, how did you do it?”
With a thought, Ed took the planter out of Paul’s hands and deposited it next to the window. Then he materialized a bowl of peanuts in front of his friend.
“I’d say there’s something in my beer, but I haven’t drunk any,” Paul said.
“I hope that wasn’t too much for you,” Ed said. “I can make you forget it, but I don’t want to do that to you. Do you think you’ll be able to cope?”
“You have to tell me what’s going on.”
“It turns out there are witches. It’s hereditary. Faith’s one, although she’d been trying to deny it for years. And, it turns out I am, too. I’m not going into the whole thing. It’s complicated as hell, but, someday, if you’re interested, I will. For now, all you need to know is that just like Faith and her family, I can do some magic, and so can Duncan Stewart.
“Since people cannot generally handle this sort of thing. People with powers try and stay under the radar. From what I’ve been told, there aren’t more than ten thousand of us worldwide.”
“What can you do?”
“A few tricks like you saw, and a few other things. Duncan’s been a good mentor. He is a cop, and he’s told me never to use my magic to solve my cases, only for self-defense. He used his today to help the guys who’d been shot.”
“I know you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“No. And I’m not nuts, either. Come on.”
They walked out of his house and down the street.
“Pick a place,” Ed said looking at the three restaurants on the opposite side of the street.
Paul pointed at
a pub, and they went inside.
As they sat down, Ed said, “Now, here we are in a place that I couldn’t have rigged.”
“I didn’t think that you’d rigged anything.”
“I want you to be sure.”
A waitress came over, handed them menus, and, after the obligatory small talk, went to get them their drinks. Paul opened his menu, and as he did Ed said, “Gallico.” Paul’s menu was immediately translated into French. Paul looked up in disbelief. Ed then uttered the word, “Anglicus,” and the menu was, once again, printed in English. At this point, Paul seemed to be turning a slight shade of green.
“Drink some water,” Ed said.
Paul didn’t protest and took his suggestion.
“That’s what I learned this summer, and that’s what I couldn’t tell you, but nothing’s changed. My cases are still being worked the old-fashioned way. Faith never uses it for her career. We just have this odd genetic quirk. Can you deal with that? And, more importantly, can you keep our secret?”
“It’s real.”
“It’s real. Duncan told me to keep it simple. That was the best I could do.”
“You did all right. Can I tell Karen?”
“Only Karen, but you, Faith and I should probably do it together.”
“Right, next time we get together.”
“You think she’ll be okay?” Ed said.
“Are you kidding? I bet you a hundred bucks she thinks it’s cool.”
“I hope so. It’s a lot,” Ed said.
“So, do you have to use Latin?”
“Oh, you recognized that,” Ed said.
“Jesuits.”
“No, originally the spells were in Scots Gaelic, but they did translate most them to Latin, and I’ve been studying all summer. I had some Latin, myself, in high school, so it hasn’t been too hard.”
“How’d you find out?”
“Oh, you’re not ready for that story,” Ed said.
“Why not?”
“I can still barely deal. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you in a few years, or maybe when we’re watching the grandkids.”
******
Faith was on her own that afternoon, and, as planned, drove up to the hospital where Dr. Margaret Dunham was both patient and prisoner. Patterson Hospital had every bit the security that she’d experienced when she visited Laura.
Finally arriving at the floor where she would meet with Maggie, Faith first went, as promised, to see Dr. Daniel Ryan. He was the hospital’s medical director, and, administrative duties aside, he was also chief of psychiatry. The facility was as imposing as any jail, although Faith assumed that as tough as it might be, it was likely still a step up from prison. Maggie had approved Faith’s visit, so, while she didn’t know the day, she wouldn’t be all that surprised to see her.
Walking down the hallway, Faith bumped into Dan.
“Dr. Ryan,” Faith said with a big smile.
The two walked down the hallway and into his clinical office.
“Sit down and tell me how things are going for you,” Dan said.
“Really well, as I told you, I’m still writing, and volunteering three mornings a week at Bourne Street.”
“With Karen Malloy.”
Faith nodded.
“She does a great job over there,” Dan said. “I wish all the shelters were run like that.”
“Well, we have the luxury of private funding, and, for good or bad, we don’t take anyone with serious mental and substance problems. So, sad as it all is, it’s a fairly nice place, and we generally have positive results. I don’t think that I could handle any place like this.”
“I think you could. Why don’t you give me a couple of shifts a week and find out?”
“Aren’t all of you MDs?”
“For the most part, but we have some PhDs.”
“What would I do?”
“Just sit in on group sessions for a while, then we’d see.”
She hesitated.
“Come on Faith, give it a try. You can do this. I know you think you did your degree as a lark, but I never believed that. I think you want to do this work.”
“What makes you think that?” Faith asked.
“I read your papers and your dissertation. This stuff is as natural to you as breathing.”
“I guess flattery will get you everywhere, because I’ll do it, but if I find it too daunting …”
“I wouldn’t want you to stay if it wasn’t good for you. Now,” Dan said, “speaking of what’s not good for you. I don’t think it’s good for either you or Maggie to see each other. It hasn’t been a year since she damn near killed you, and I’m not positive that you’ve dealt with that.”
“Probably not entirely, and I had a rather stressful summer visiting the old country with my family.
“The old country,” Dan said laughing. “Where was that Transylvania?”
“No, but we were on the northernmost point of Scotland, and there were a few dicey issues with the locals.”
“Do tell?”
“Another time. I actually am still dealing with what happened there,” Faith said.
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Oh yes, it wasn’t all bad. Just intense,” Faith said.
“Well, back to the issue at hand, Maggie. She’s still batshit crazy.”
“Why Dr. Ryan, I don’t believe that you covered that particular diagnosis in your lectures. Exactly, what does that entail?”
“She’s still totally delusional with regard to you. And she intermittently fakes a catatonic state. It was real at first, but she conveniently comes out of it when she has visitors.”
“So, you know about that?”
“Yes, how do you?”
“I have my sources, and she’s up to something, but I don’t know what,” Faith said.
“Are you worried?”
“No. I’m not, but I do want to talk to her.”
“She’ll never tell you the truth.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but I want to give it a shot.”
“All right. Sounds like you can handle it. Now, when can you start?”
“I work at the shelter Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. So, either Tuesdays or Thursdays. Preferably in the mornings. I like to write in the afternoons.”
“Tuesday and Thursday mornings then. Get here at eight, this Tuesday, so we can do some paperwork, but you’ll normally start at nine.”
“What about pay?”
“I know about that movie deal and your loaded. Thought you’d work for free like you do for Karen.”
Faith was about to agree to that proposition when Dan said, “No, actually there’s a per diem. We’ll figure it out on Tuesday.”
“Come on, I’ll get Maggie for you.”
Dan found Maggie, as usual, in the solarium, and told her that she had a guest. Maggie just stared off into space.
Back in his office, Dan said, “She’s in the sunroom at the end of the hall. Good luck.”
Walking over to her, Faith said, “Hi, Maggie, how’re feeling?”
Maggie did not answer.
“Okay, Maggie, I’m not going to waste my time here. If you can respond, respond. If you can’t, I’m out of here.”
There was no response.
“Well, feel better,” Faith said and walked out of the room.
From behind her, she heard a faint noise, but Faith wasn’t having it. Maggie would either be real with her, or she was not sticking around.
Faith’s ace in the hole was that Maggie was obsessed with her and she knew it. The original point of Maggie’s obsession had been to get rid of a genuinely abusive husband, but Faith knew innately that it was more than that. She wanted to be Faith, and since she couldn’t have that, Maggie wanted to be in Faith’s inner circle.
This day would prove her right because while Faith waited at the elevator, Maggie walked up behind her and said, “Come back, please.”
An assortment of nurses and attendants s
tood stunned, as they’d never seen her walk without help or speak without slurring her words.
“Sorry if I blew your cover,” Faith said looking her straight in the eye.
“I’ll be fine today and relapse tomorrow.”
Faith smiled at her and said, “As long as you have a plan,” and accompanied Maggie back to the solarium.
“I shouldn’t have hurt you,” Maggie said as they sat down.
“Or the detective,” Faith said
“Oh, Ed doesn’t seem worse for wear. How’s the romance going?”
Now, this was getting interesting. Maggie not only had sources on the outside, she wanted Faith to know it. It was also a chance for the student, as Maggie had been Faith’s doctoral advisor, to be the doctor. Faith was, almost for the first time, realizing that five years of study had not been wasted. She was, in no way, going to respond to Maggie’s little taunt.
“Maggie, how are you really?”
This unnerved her. Being a psychologist herself, Maggie knew that she was being ‘treated,’ and she didn’t like it.
“Fine.”
“No, seriously. How does it feel to finally be free of Ian?”
“Good.”
“I wish you had told me about him. I would have helped you.”
“I was trying to get your help. You rejected me.”
“I did. I rejected your overtures to be my bestie or to join your coven. I would not have rejected a woman needing help to escape abuse.”
“Did you kill him? I know you could have.”
“No.”
“I bet you did.”
Here was where Faith felt a little guilty. Maggie had rightly pegged her as a witch, then built a whole delusion around it. Faith never acknowledged her powers, so Maggie went off the deep end trying to prove that she had them.
Now, she was about to lie to her again. Ian had called her after Maggie’s hospitalization and threatened all manner of abuse. And while Faith could have, she hadn’t killed him. Faith’s father, however, had.
The Power of Faith: Science Fiction Faith Ferguson Series Book 3 Page 16