Read Divine Justice for Free Online

colored 1972 Mercedes Benz 280SE. There's an APB out on it." Matthew gave him the license plate number.
    "What about comparative cases? Has anything like this happened before?"
    "Nothing conclusive. There was one case about nine months ago. Darlene MacKenzie, another Member of Parliament and a divorcee with no children, went missing for three days. When she resurfaced, she said she'd taken off for a much needed rest and was sure she'd notified her work. Her VISA bill recorded her stay at a bed and breakfast outside the city."
    "You want us to talk to her?" Ben asked.
    "OPS and the RCMP have already questioned her. I'll send you their reports."
    "Did you get Jasi's report?"
    "Yes. It was very detailed. Good job, Jasmine."
    Ben smiled. That was about as much praise as anyone would get from Matthew Divine.
    "I just sent you the report from the RCMP, Ben."
    "Thanks, Matthew. Does Marilyn have any idea where her husband might have gone?"
    "No. She says he's never disappeared like this." Matthew cleared his throat. "You need to find out where he was. As discreetly as possible."
    "So we have two mysteries to uncover," Jasi said. "We need to find out where Winkler was for those two days and―"
    "Who killed him," Ben finished.
    Matthew cleared his throat. "There's one other thing. The Winklers have friends in high places. Director Petrie called in a Russian psychic."
    "Why would the director do that?"
    "Monty Winkler was a longtime friend of the Petrie family. It's some kind of peace trade. This psychic has been in Canada for just over a year, finished basic with the CFBI and was transferred to Quebec City five months ago."
    "What's his name?"
    " Her ," Matthew replied. "Natassia Prushenko. She'll be meeting up with you the day after tomorrow."
    "Should we pick her up from the airport?" Jasi asked.
    "No. She'll contact you at the hotel. She should be there around four-thirty in the afternoon. Ben, I want her to pair up with you or Jasmine at all times."
    "No problem."
    "Oh, and one more thing. I think you'll work well together. Prushenko is a highly skilled VE. A Level 1."
    Ben heard Jasi's sharp intake of breath. He could practically read her mind.
    A few years ago the PSI Division had designed a system of testing and documenting psychic skill levels. There were five levels in total. The average tarot card reader or palm reader scored a Level 5. Those with vague premonitory dreams or waking visions might score a Level 4.
    PSI agents scored in the top three levels. Level 1 was the highest, most dependable and the rarest. Ben was a Level 3 Psychometric Empath. And Jasi was the only Level 1 he'd ever met.
    However, that was about to change.

5
     
    Tuesday, April 17, 2012
    ~ Ottawa, ON
     
    Jasi stood on the shore of the Ottawa River, miles from the city center. Being near water always made her think of home…the salty scent of Vancouver air, the roar of the ocean. She loved the ocean.
    She inhaled the crisp air and watched cotton puffs sail overhead. On the river, four speedboats and a sailboat glistened like tiny jewels dancing on the waves. A wintry wind whipped through her hair, plucking at the burnished strands like a voracious lover.
    Despite her lined jacket, she crossed her arms. "I hate this time of year."
    "Do you want to sit in the car for a while?" Ben asked.
    "No, I'm fine. My run this morning is keeping me relatively warm."
    "You ran?" He eyed her. "By yourself?"
    "Yeah, Ben. All by my lonesome."
    Back home, her morning routine usually consisted of a set of fifty sit-ups and push-ups, plus a morning jog along the Stanley Park seawall. This morning she'd gotten up at six, done her sets, then gone for a run. She needed to forget about death and work, if only for a few minutes.
    The route around the hotel had been hindered by early morning rush hour traffic and impatient pedestrians who stared at her as though she were a member of an alien species bent on taking over the world. Hardly anyone jogged in Ottawa anymore. Maybe