Preacher's Daughter - Flora Ferrari Page 0,40

remember her from thirty years ago as if it was yesterday.

“Sister Montieth,” I murmur, feeling her smooth, gnarled hand in mine as it tightens.

“Mother Superior Montieth,” she barks, dropping my hand and giving Faith a dismissive glance as she eyes my briefcase.

“You’ve finally come!” she says loudly, falling back into her soft chair as if getting up was too much for her, both her hands raised with her eyes to the heavens.

“I have,” I murmur, making my own noise as I slap the case down loudly on her desk, fishing for the key in my pocket.

“Gramma… Uh… She made me promise to bring this to her old home when she passed. In person,” I add, hoping the gravity of my tone adds to the effect that means I want to see what’s in this damned case after so much trouble.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” the old woman says, softening her look to a smile, noting Faith.

“And this is your daughter?” she asks both of us, smiling wider until I tell her no.

“She’s my… well. She’s with me,” I announce gruffly, only making the old nun laugh softly once she raises her eyes, threatening a hearty cough for her efforts.

“Same old, Templeton,” she sighs again, her chest crackling down to a simmer.

“I suppose I should warn you,” she adds, her smile turning to a smirk.

“We have company. Your little visit has been… anticipated.”

I hear Faith groan softly, and a door to the left opens quickly.

I don’t mind at all, kind of expected something like this really.

All those police, those helicopters so low to the ground in little old Shreveport.

“Daddy!” Faith shrieks, clutching at me first, then crossing the room to rush into his open arms.

A state trooper and a couple of guys in dark, cheap suits that reek of FBI standing close by. Their eyes daring me to do something.

Anything.

But I know I’ve got nothing to hide.

“The police were kind enough to call ahead, let us know you were coming, Noah,” The old nun croaks, eyeing the case again.

“We were told someone kidnapped a young girl, robbed an armored car with some friends,” she says, sounding eternally disappointed.

“Didn’t think it would be you though,” she adds, her eyes twinkling a little with amusement.

Faith pipes up. Loudly.

“Dad! It’s not true, I went with Noah of my own free will. Why he hasn’t stolen anything. He came all the way across six states to return something, not take anything!”

I hear my teeth snap shut, sucking some air in and cocking my own brow. Eyeballing the old nun, then the police, and finally the preacher.

He’s bigger than I imagined, and I nod slowly to myself, watching his hands grip his only daughter as he holds her so close.

So sure that he’s saved her from something more terrible than her own love.

My eyes move to Faith’s, calming her. Communicating to her I’ll sort all this out in a moment.

Her look has gone from worry to panic in a second, and it tears me up inside.

My first reflex is to start swinging punches, but something inside me knows that once that case is open, all will be revealed.

I don’t know how, or even why. But old Gramma’s voice is in my mind, urging me to be still. To be quiet. Like she always did when I felt my temper get the better of me.

“You think I’d leave you in the lurch? Leave you alone in your finest hour? Have faith boy. You got to have Faith.”

Lifting both hands in surrender, I glance at the case, and then back at the law. Then the nun.

She’s nothing like her predecessor, I just feel it.

“Go ahead, open it,” I say, only looking at Faith now.

Remembering the promises I made to both her and to Gramma.

Firm hands from suits sit me down, and the local sheriff I know tracked us across our journey fidgets with the key and clicks the old case open, lifting the lid and whistling to himself.

The old nun gasps so does Faith, and the suits just sneer. Smug.

Knowingly. Like they’ve had Christmas in July.

“Well, there must be a million dollars in hundreds and fifties here,” remarks the sheriff.

“About the same amount left unaccounted for from the armored car heist!”

The feds take over the case, that sheriff barking some crap about me being taken into custody.

Its Faith that butts in though, the voice of reason.

My girl.

God, how I love her when she’s so wound up.

Chapter Twenty-One

Faith

Everything feels weird, horrible. Until I see my Dad.

Then I feel like