Read Online The Stolen Valentine by K.J. Emrick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: K.J. Emrick
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attention. “My name is Detective Jon Tinker. I’m with the Misty Hollow Police Department. I need to talk to you about one of your patients. There’s a man in room two-fifteen who we believe was kidnapped during a robbery in Oak Hollow.”
The doctor, an older man with thick wire-rimmed glasses, blinked repeatedly and scratched at his ear. “Ah yes,” he said. “I’m familiar with that patient. I saw him when he came in yesterday. John Doe. Could barely speak. Mild concussion, broken leg. Suffering from amnesia and unable to tell us anything including his name. You know him?”
“We’re sure his name is Ray Stephenson. The city police in Oak Hollow should have sent you out a message by now.”
The doctor looked at one of the nurses, who shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Doctor, we need to guard this man. When can we interview him?”
“Well, you can interview him in the morning, I’m sure, but I can’t guarantee what he’ll be able to tell you. Is there some urgency?”
Instead of answering that question Jon asked to use the phone behind the desk so he could contact the Meadwood PD to provide protection for Ray, and then he promised Darcy he would call Ray’s wife to let her know where he was.
“I’m also going to have to call the Oak Hollow PD. The robbery took place in their city. I’m sure they’ll want to send some people over to speak to Ray in the morning.”
Darcy hugged him briefly. “You’re going to be busy. Can I borrow your car again? I need to go back to Misty Hollow for something.”
He looked puzzled but just nodded and handed her his keys. “I’m guessing you’ll explain it to me later?”
“Of course,” she said with a smile. Things were finally looking up. They knew where Ray Stephenson was. That was a start. The smile faded quickly, though, when she remembered that Aaron was still out there, somewhere, missing and possibly still in the hands of three men in ski masks.
***
When Darcy arrived back in Misty Hollow she headed straight for her book store. Turning the lights on inside, she went to the back office. She had tried using her gift to contact Aaron and Ray, and for obvious reasons it hadn’t worked. Ray was still alive. Aaron must be still alive as well. That didn’t mean she didn’t have other resources to try.
“Millie, I need your help,” she called out.
From the shelf above the desk in the office, her great aunt’s journal fell. It thumped against the desk, popping open to lay on its spine. As Darcy watched, the pages turned, as if a strong wind had caught them. She knew better. It was her aunt’s hands turning the pages to find the passage Darcy needed. The passage she had suddenly remembered at the hospital when the doctor was talking about how Ray Stephenson couldn’t remember anything.
When the pages stopped, Darcy sat and scanned the neatly written paragraphs. It was instructions for helping ghosts who were too old to remember the lives they had lived before their deaths. If a ghost remained on this earth for too long without passing over, their connection to who they were became so weak that their memories actually faded.
Not unlike what had happened to Ray Stephenson.
If it worked for the ghosts, Darcy reasoned, then it might actually work for Ray too, even though he was still alive.
She read through the whole thing twice. The actual technique didn’t sound that difficult. It involved settling her mind into a peaceful state, reaching out to the ghost, and then carefully remembering the details of her own life. The act of visualizing her own memories was supposed to help the ghost remember how to do the same thing for themselves.
Could it work for the living? She didn’t see why not. The essence, or spirit, or whatever one chose to call the spark of life inside a person was released with death. Darcy could commune with those spirits because of her
The doctor, an older man with thick wire-rimmed glasses, blinked repeatedly and scratched at his ear. “Ah yes,” he said. “I’m familiar with that patient. I saw him when he came in yesterday. John Doe. Could barely speak. Mild concussion, broken leg. Suffering from amnesia and unable to tell us anything including his name. You know him?”
“We’re sure his name is Ray Stephenson. The city police in Oak Hollow should have sent you out a message by now.”
The doctor looked at one of the nurses, who shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Doctor, we need to guard this man. When can we interview him?”
“Well, you can interview him in the morning, I’m sure, but I can’t guarantee what he’ll be able to tell you. Is there some urgency?”
Instead of answering that question Jon asked to use the phone behind the desk so he could contact the Meadwood PD to provide protection for Ray, and then he promised Darcy he would call Ray’s wife to let her know where he was.
“I’m also going to have to call the Oak Hollow PD. The robbery took place in their city. I’m sure they’ll want to send some people over to speak to Ray in the morning.”
Darcy hugged him briefly. “You’re going to be busy. Can I borrow your car again? I need to go back to Misty Hollow for something.”
He looked puzzled but just nodded and handed her his keys. “I’m guessing you’ll explain it to me later?”
“Of course,” she said with a smile. Things were finally looking up. They knew where Ray Stephenson was. That was a start. The smile faded quickly, though, when she remembered that Aaron was still out there, somewhere, missing and possibly still in the hands of three men in ski masks.
***
When Darcy arrived back in Misty Hollow she headed straight for her book store. Turning the lights on inside, she went to the back office. She had tried using her gift to contact Aaron and Ray, and for obvious reasons it hadn’t worked. Ray was still alive. Aaron must be still alive as well. That didn’t mean she didn’t have other resources to try.
“Millie, I need your help,” she called out.
From the shelf above the desk in the office, her great aunt’s journal fell. It thumped against the desk, popping open to lay on its spine. As Darcy watched, the pages turned, as if a strong wind had caught them. She knew better. It was her aunt’s hands turning the pages to find the passage Darcy needed. The passage she had suddenly remembered at the hospital when the doctor was talking about how Ray Stephenson couldn’t remember anything.
When the pages stopped, Darcy sat and scanned the neatly written paragraphs. It was instructions for helping ghosts who were too old to remember the lives they had lived before their deaths. If a ghost remained on this earth for too long without passing over, their connection to who they were became so weak that their memories actually faded.
Not unlike what had happened to Ray Stephenson.
If it worked for the ghosts, Darcy reasoned, then it might actually work for Ray too, even though he was still alive.
She read through the whole thing twice. The actual technique didn’t sound that difficult. It involved settling her mind into a peaceful state, reaching out to the ghost, and then carefully remembering the details of her own life. The act of visualizing her own memories was supposed to help the ghost remember how to do the same thing for themselves.
Could it work for the living? She didn’t see why not. The essence, or spirit, or whatever one chose to call the spark of life inside a person was released with death. Darcy could commune with those spirits because of her
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