Earthbound : A gripping crime thriller full of twists and supernatural suspense by Fynn Perry (popular romance novels TXT) 📗

work. She grabbed a coat and some sneakers and quietly tip-toed outside. Her six-year-old Ford Escort was parked next to her father's Volvo station wagon. The driveway gently sloped away from the house, which would allow her to roll the car out onto the street and put some distance between it and the house before she would have to start the engine.

She got in and released the hand brake, looking over her shoulder as she came out of the drive and backed into the road. Then, looking forward through the windshield and getting ready to turn on the ignition, she was shocked to see a glowing figure.

There was a spirit standing on the road in front of her. Her breath was taken from her a split second before she realized it was John.

Back in her room, John told Jennifer all about the events of the evening, including his visit to DNA, his witnessing El Gordito being possessed, and the subsequent attempts to evade the angry spirit which emerged from one of his bodyguards. When she heard the last part, she was furious.

“Jesus, John! You were lucky that it didn’t catch you. You could’ve been…” She paused, searching for the right word. “You know—completely destroyed!” Her whisper had become coarse with anger, such was her affection for him.

“I guess so. I’ve no idea who that spirit was. For sure it looked nothing like the one you described coming out of Hardwell. This one was tall but very wiry, had a shaved head, and was tattooed.” John added with a smile, “Maybe I could have taken him, maybe not.”

Jennifer didn’t find it funny. She paused and took a deep breath. “I know who the spirit that came out of Hardwell is—or was.”

“How?” John was stunned.

“I could sense my father was holding something back about his meeting with Devereux, so I confronted him about it, and he told me exactly what Devereux had come to discuss with him. The case wasn’t just any case, it was the one that ended my dad’s career as the D.A. for Miami.”

“Your father was the D.A.? Why wouldn’t you tell me something like that?”

“Because we left Miami in secret. I knew it was because of something to do with his job. But tonight, he told me it was specifically because of this one case. He had planned to tell me the full story one day, but kept putting it off. He had been too embarrassed to admit to me that out of all the many bad guys he had put away, one had defeated him by getting to him with threats.”

“Christ! Who did he put away?”

“A guy named Juan Santiago. He oversaw the distribution of all drugs in Miami and had many people murdered and tortured. . . He’d already been in prison once, and . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“And what?”

“Before his sentence ended, he was stabbed to death by a group of inmates with allegiance to a rival gang. It’s suspected that the guards had been paid off to allow it to happen.” Jennifer took her laptop out of sleep mode and turned it around so John could view the screen. “I found these photos of him.”

John stared at the photo of Juan Santiago in silence. Tousled, dark locks and a beard framed the Mexican’s face, but in no way softened the hate in the black, remorseless eyes staring out at him. There was just a hint of a sneer to the man’s mouth, and his firm chin mirrored the power of his muscular shoulders.

“It’s definitely his spirit I saw coming out of Hardwell! That same evil look, the same burning hate.” She scrolled down the list of image results. “You should see this one too!” She pointed to a photo showing a row of ten bodies, all belonging to young men, all with their hands cut off. “It says in the article that was Santiago’s way of punishing anyone he suspected might be stealing from him. He cut their hands off with a machete and left them to bleed to death.” She paused and tried to calm her panicky breathing. “He must be looking for vengeance against my father, and my father has no idea that Santiago is out there as a spirit...possessing people. Look what happened when his spirit possessed Devereux. What if the next person Santiago possesses tries to kill him!” She shuddered at the thought.

“Even if you tell him, Jen, he wouldn’t believe you!”

Jennifer nodded. “There’s nothing we can do,” she murmured, her face turning pale.

John fell silent for a moment, thinking. “But if Santiago’s spirit was in Hardwell when he stabbed me . . .then why stab me? What does Santiago have against me?”

“I don’t know, John. I don’t know anything anymore!” she wailed.

John could see that her resilience, which had been strong until now, was starting to wane. “Stay with me, Jen.” His tone was urgent, determined.

“Maybe Donovan encouraged Hardwell to attack you and the spirit just wanted to watch him do it for kicks?” she offered, knowing the theory was pretty far-fetched. Slowly, she was recovering her normal tone.

“But why would Donovan want me dead? It makes no sense!”

“To cover up selling the pub? God! Maybe Donovan wants to kill your father next!”

“He wouldn’t have to kill me or my father for that. My father was never an owner of the pub; he was purely an investor. He just asked for some profit and loss reports a couple of times a year, and it would be easy for Donovan to continue fudging them, like he probably had done for years. Whenever the reports showed he needed more money for the pub, he got it. There’d be no point cutting off the hand that was feeding him.”

“Let me think, John.” Her tone was now more positive. “We already know a lot more now than we did. Firstly, Donovan knew Hardwell was the attacker because he tried to stop his employee from identifying him. And we also know