Shhhhhhh! With her arm in a cast, Faith clumsily slid on top of Sarah. It may have been
a warm evening outside, but inside the seedy club, it was sweltering, Faith
stood just inside an alcove, beside the inner doorway, where she had a
clear view of the stage, yet, remain partially hidden in the shadows. “Hey Tom, Faith, sorry to wake you, I’m at Starbucks on Bleecker with an
informant, I think I know who our `mole’ is. Faith was calling her from the bedroom. You have to stay
away from dykes and addicts. She was not beautiful in the conventional sense, but she wasn’t
unattractive, either; if she stood out in a crowd, it was more because of
sex appeal, vitality and self confidence, than for pure physical beauty. “There you are, like it?” She asked. She hesitated before finally
entering the strip club. “Maybe I want to be ravished.” Faith’s voice was soft. “Ah,
Lt O’Bannon, I am Dr Fabian,” he introduced himself. She was
wearing a tall Western hat and a gaudy poncho, her legs were encased in
leather chaps, her feet thrust into high heeled western boots. She became
her young partner’s confidant and mentor, in NYPD vernacular, her rabbi. She moved her left
arm, slowly she reached over and managed to get hold of the water bottle,
thirstily she sucked, trying to quench her thirst.
