"Well, I'm sure the word has gotten around the philanthropic community about the work we'll be doing. I'm just happy there is someone who believes in the mission enough to write a check for the cause," Nick said.
"Yes, I'm sure that's it," Mia agreed, taking a sip from her coffee.
Later that week, Nick Bartonovich was seated in his office perusing his email. He noticed an email from Mr. Watanabe - the man they frequently used to track down delinquent debtors. Inside the email were two sentences, followed by a link. The message read simply, "This will interest you. Not our doing though." Nick clicked on the link and it brought up a story from the New York Times.
A man was found dead in his home in Nassau, Bahamas yesterday, the apparent victim of a robbery gone wrong. An undisclosed amount of money was missing from an open safe found near the body. The man has been identified as Silas McGruder, a former New York City policeman who was living in the Bahamas under the alias of Bob Conner. Police have no leads on who may have committed the crime at this time.
Nick raised an eyebrow in interest. Well, that's one potential problem we don't need to worry about any more, he thought to himself. He forwarded the article to Mia before moving on to other emails.
******************** THE END ********************
The following is a preview of the new book The Seer: book 1 in the Supernatural Gift series, by author C.L. Wells.
CHAPTER ONE
Waves crashed against the rocks in a deafening chorus of nature's fury as the sea lashed the Tillamook Lighthouse mercilessly. The storm had been in full force for about an hour now and Dan Moses was hoping the generator house wouldn't get flooded again. Occasionally, one of the really big waves would hit and he'd feel the vibrations from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
He had retreated to the main keeper's quarters where he sat in his favorite chair, waiting out the tempest that raged outside. He'd given up on reading, which was what he usually did to wait out the lesser storms that frequented the area. As the next big wave hit and he felt the ground beneath him shake, he remembered one of the stories he had read about in the history of the lighthouse, from the great storm of 1934. During that storm, the lighthouse had been repeatedly submerged by the onslaught of waves. Sixty-pound boulders had been spewed forth from the ocean and crashed through the roof of the lighthouse. The watch room had been repeatedly flooded, the water rising up to the necks of the watchmen before finally draining out of the entrance door to the tower below them. They had been unable to leave the tower for the duration of the storm, which had lasted four days. Dan hoped this storm wouldn't escalate to that level. At almost sixty, he was getting too old for this.
Suddenly the violent assault of the waves ceased. The wind continued to howl as it forced its way around the buildings and he could hear the rain falling, but not a single wave could be heard hitting the shore or crashing into the lighthouse tower. Dan opened his eyes and sat up straight. He sensed a presence he hadn't felt in decades and he was instantly afraid. Seconds before he would have laughed at the idea that there was another living soul on this island besides himself. Now he was just as certain that he was no longer alone. He strained to hear anything that might indicate where his visitor could be.
Dan slowly pushed himself up from his chair and backed up against the wall, looking from side to side as he did so. He startled himself as his back touched the wall and then exhaled in relief when he realized what he had done. When a knock came at the door, he snapped to attention once more.
Slowly crossing the room, he drew back the bolt on the door. He reached down and grasped the door handle. As he briefly closed his eyes, he inhaled and exhaled slowly to brace himself for what he was about to encounter. Reluctantly, but with finality, he opened his eyes and turned the door knob.
Before he could open the door of his own accord, the wind blew it open, hurling him back onto the floor. As he turned back towards the door, the lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating a hulking figure as it crossed the threshold and took a step towards where he lay. He brought an arm up defensively as he let out a startled cry, but the figure advanced no further. Instead, a large hand reached down and took hold of his own, effortlessly pulling him to his feet.
Dan stood and stared at the figure before him, unsure of what was going to happen next. It was the Keeper, just as he had suspected. Their first encounter had been a violent one that Dan wasn't anxious to repeat. He stared at the Keeper's face unblinkingly and waited.
The Keeper held Dan's hand and stared back at him. At six foot seven, with shoulders wide enough to fill the largest of doorways, the Keeper towered over Dan. He was bald on the top of his head, with a white, closely cropped beard covering his face. His visage was stern-looking and his eyes were crystal blue. As the Keeper held his gaze, Dan suddenly felt as if this being could peer into his very soul. He felt naked, terrified, and mesmerized all at the same time, unable to look away.
After several seconds, Dan found the courage to speak.
"Why are you here?"
"Another Seer has been chosen," came the reply. The Keeper's voice was just as he had remembered it. Commanding, firm, with a strange and other-worldly accent that he had never heard before anywhere else.
The Keeper turned and shut the door, locking the bolt in place. He turned back around and gently guided Dan back to the chair he had been sitting in previously and motioned for him to sit down.
"He will come to you seeking answers. Tell him what you know."
"When? when will he come?"
"Soon."
"What is his mission?" Dan asked.
"That is not your concern."
"How will I know him?"
"He will tell you that he has seen me."
As he thought back over the moment days later, Dan wasn't quite certain what happened next. The only thing he knew for sure was that the Keeper was suddenly gone and the storm had returned in all of its fury. In the days following the storm, he wondered who the new Seer was and what he had been chosen to do.
The pictures spread out before him on the table were proof enough. Susan was cheating on him. A younger man, some would say handsome, was holding his wife the same way he'd used to hold her not so long ago. He should have seen this coming. But a drug dealer? Really, she should have been more discreet. He glanced up at the detective sitting across from him, wondering what was going through his mind.
"So, how much is she spending on the drugs every week?" he said, trying to direct the conversation away from the embarrassing photos.
"About a grand from what I can tell," the detective replied.
"What is it?"
"The drug?"
"Yeah, the drug."
"Cocaine."
They had used cocaine recreationally at parties in the past, but they had never been regular users. Now, apparently, cocaine had become Susan's go-to entertainment and emotional pain killer.
"You know," he said rhetorically, "she says my job is my second wife. I guess I should have seen this coming."
The detective remained silent.
When he'd hired a private investigator to find out just how bad her drug habit really was, he hadn't expected to find that another man was sleeping with his wife. His original plan was for a sort of intervention. He would confront her with the evidence, and give her an ultimatum to clean up. But that was before. Now this other man had to be dealt with first.
"How much do I owe you?"
"Twenty-five hundred."
He paid the private investigator for his services and waited for him to leave, and then he took out his cell phone and speed-dialed the man who would help him handle this little situation.
Samuel J. Pendleton had not risen to his present height of power by sheer business acumen. One of his early risks had been to tap in to the lucrative world of money laundering. In the process of building up his list of clientele for these service
s he had become acquainted with numerous influential members of the criminal community. None of these was more influential than Martin "the Hammer" Scalini. He waited as the phone rang for the third time. The man who answered the call spoke in a crisp, high-pitched voice and reminded Samuel of the florist he frequently spoke to when he wanted to send flowers to his mistress.
"Mr. Scalini's office, how can I help you?"
"Bobby, this is Samuel Pendleton. I need to speak to Martin."
"One moment please."
Samuel waited on hold for about thirty seconds before hearing Martin's deep voice come on the line.
"Sammy! How's the world of high finance treating you these days? No problems with any of my interests, I hope."
"No, everything is fine, Martin. This is actually a personal call. I have a delicate situation that needs handling and I was wondering if you might recommend someone who could help me out?."
After Samuel hung up the phone a few minutes later, he smiled and sat back in his chair. It was nice to have such influential and discreet business associates. He contemplated this fact with satisfaction for a few moments before leaning forward and beginning to gather the pertinent information. The photographs showing Susan and her lover must, unfortunately, be included. It would be less embarrassing if there were some pictures with the man by himself. It wounded his pride a little to let someone else see them like that. He selected the documents listing the home address where he and Susan lived, the home address of her lover, and the details concerning the times of their meetings. Adding these to the photographs, he slid the items into a manila envelope.
He stood up and moved his chair out of the way as he turned to face a picture on the wall behind his desk. Pulling on one side of the picture frame revealed a safe mounted in the wall, as the picture swung open like a door. He typed in the combination on the illuminated keypad and turned the lever to open the safe's door.
In his line of work it was prudent to keep a large amount of cash on hand in order to take care of the frequently fluid cash flow needs of his more unconventional clients. Having this cash in his office meant he could be more responsive to those needs, and therefore, charge a premium for prompt service. He hadn't counted on being the next one to need the cash so readily available, but then again, luck favored the prepared. He counted out fifty thousand dollars and added it to the contents of the envelope, returning the remaining funds to the safe.
As he waited for Martin's courier to come by and pick up the envelope, he went about his day's work. Between the conference calls and emails, he frequently wondered what his wife's lover was doing at the moment. Martin had said not to worry, that the situation would be taken care of, and the less he knew, the better. Samuel did know better than to press the point, and contented himself with the thought that he needn't worry about the interloper again.
***** END OF PREVIEW *****
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Author's Note
Utopian Day is filled with interesting characters, most of whom are deeply flawed by way of being thoroughly human. One of the main themes I attempted to weave throughout the story was the theme of redemption and positive change in the lives of people whose past and present is marred with moral and personal failure, greed, and tragedy. There are a number of questions that are touched on throughout the story that are related to these themes. How does positive change happen? What is the process a person goes through to decide that they want to change? What does that process look like? How can a person who starts out life with a series of moral failures and bad circumstances actually turn their lives around?
One set of characters in this story decide they want to turn their lives around and pursue that process of recovery and positive change through a unique prison program that intertwines psychology, religion, and a twelve step program. Another set of characters evolve over time from criminals who appear to enjoy their lives of crime and the fortune it brings them to a place where they have developed a different set of values that is no longer compatible with the old criminal lifestyle. The transformation for both groups of people is gradual and incomplete when our story ends, but the change is undeniable and the process is ongoing.
We live in an imperfect world where there is good mixed with bad. We see people commit crimes and atrocities on the one hand, while others do good deeds - sometimes there is a progression from one to the other for the same person over the course of time. My hope and desire is that you found this book entertaining on the one hand, and encouraging on the other. Wherever you are in life, know that positive change is possible. You can be different, and you can stop the unproductive habits of your past or present and begin the process of positive change. I hope this book has given you some ideas about how you might begin to do that if you so desire, or perhaps encouraged you to continue on the journey of change that you are already on.
I encourage you not to allow yourself to be defined by your mistakes. Instead, I challenge you to allow yourself to be defined by Whose you are. We are all God's beloved children and are intrinsically valuable by virtue of that fact. When we live life in that reality and combined with God's assistance, positive change is always possible.
Thanks for reading,
C.L. Wells
Thank You
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Acknowledgements
Thanks to my wife for her support and encouragement during the writing of this book. Thanks to Alcoholics Anonymous for the twelve-step program that organization initiated that is referred to in the book, along with references to some of the principles taught by that organization. Thanks to Reinhold Niebuhr, the author of the Serenity Prayer, portions of which are used at various points in the book. Thanks to Jennifer Collins, my editor, whose work and comments helped to make this a better book. Thanks to Monique Nelson, who designed the cover of the book. Both Jennifer and Monique can be reached at Elance.com.
About the Author
Christopher Wells has a degree in History from West Georgia State University and a Master's Degree in Computer Information Security from Capella University. He lives in South Carolina with his beautiful wife and their wonderful children. His hobbies include kayaking, paddle boarding, hiking, and bicycling.
To find out more about the author and see a complete list of books by the author, please visit www.ficitionwithamission.com.
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