Read Online TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy) by Sydney Jamesson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sydney Jamesson
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I snarl, breath leaving
my mouth in a feverish gust.
He glances around the
room. “Believe me Frances, I am beginning to ask myself the same question.” He
manifests a serious stare. “Would you rather I had not?”
Horrified by the
thought, I shake my head.
“Well then, we have
reached an impasse.” He rubs his hands together. “I’m not in the habit of
claiming bodies; souls yes, but not the physical, human aspect of being. The
human body is much too fragile a form to occupy.”
What the hell …
“Yes it is,” I huff.
“We feel everything and suffer as a result.” I’ll leave him to work that out
for himself. “We take risks with life and with love …”
“…I realise that.”
With nothing to lose,
I prepare to claim back what is mine. “But you stealing … rescuing Ayden’s body is too big a pain to endure, even for me.” I rise from the sofa
and tiptoe slowly back to the guest bedroom, feeling the weight of grief
bearing down upon me like a crucifix. “Goodnight.”
***
In a side office away
from the hustle and bustle of police life, Detective Inspector Bowker is
flicking through the details of a fatal car crash on the A40 the previous
evening. He should have finished his shift half an hour ago, but the name Stone
has all kinds of bells ringing. He’s curious to see why someone like Ayden
Stone would be driving like a lunatic on a busy highway on a Friday evening
when his wife is still recovering in hospital.
The more he reads the
more curious he becomes, realising Mr. Stone was not alone in the vehicle. With
only an ageing Golden Retriever to go home to, he removes his coat and sits
down.
On the pad he uses
for personal notes and references, he jots down the name ‘Elise Richards,’ the
co-passenger and the only fatality. He taps his pen against his bottom teeth
and wracks his brain. "Richards … why does that name sound familiar?”
He leans back in his
chair, pushes his iPad aside and turns over pages in his notebook from previous
days. Every page is full of notes relating to Dan Rizler, pieces of a puzzle
that he had logged for another day, even though it was a cut and dried case of
self-defence.
Be that as it may, he
likes to think he has a sixth sense, and that sixth sense is telling him there
is more to this case than some crazy bastard breaking into a school and
attempting to rape a school teacher. For now though … he has nothing but
fragmented pieces of information to go on.
He contacts the duty
Sergeant to check a few things: times, details, and so forth - for no
particular reason other than to satisfy his curiosity and his need to make sure
everything is above-board.
“Hi Rick, it’s Mack.
I’m just casting an eye over last night’s log and notice there was a smash-up
on the A40…”
“Yeah, that was a
nasty one. Some woman was thrown through the windscreen.”
Mack taps his pen on
the open pad. “Right. And what about the guy? He wasn’t seriously injured,
right?”
“They had to cut him
out and airlift him to hospital. I haven’t heard any more.”
“OK. I’ll see who did
the clear up. I’ll be interested to see who the lady was,” Mack says, still
intrigued. “I’ll have a chat with a couple of CID mates and see what happened.”
“Is there something
dodgy going on?” Rick asks curiously.
“Not that I know of.
I gave evidence in the Rizler case – the assault at the school - and I’ve met
this Stone guy a couple of times. Didn’t strike me as the type to go
joyriding.”
Rick laughs down the
phone. “They never do until they’re caught.”
“Yeah, you’re
probably right, shame about the passenger though.”
“Right, but I heard
she was the one who caused the crash.”
Mack stops tapping
his pen to listen. “What makes you say that?”
“There was a knife on
the floor by her seat; it looked like she was threatening him or something.”
In big letters Mack
writes knife under her seat . “That should take some
my mouth in a feverish gust.
He glances around the
room. “Believe me Frances, I am beginning to ask myself the same question.” He
manifests a serious stare. “Would you rather I had not?”
Horrified by the
thought, I shake my head.
“Well then, we have
reached an impasse.” He rubs his hands together. “I’m not in the habit of
claiming bodies; souls yes, but not the physical, human aspect of being. The
human body is much too fragile a form to occupy.”
What the hell …
“Yes it is,” I huff.
“We feel everything and suffer as a result.” I’ll leave him to work that out
for himself. “We take risks with life and with love …”
“…I realise that.”
With nothing to lose,
I prepare to claim back what is mine. “But you stealing … rescuing Ayden’s body is too big a pain to endure, even for me.” I rise from the sofa
and tiptoe slowly back to the guest bedroom, feeling the weight of grief
bearing down upon me like a crucifix. “Goodnight.”
***
In a side office away
from the hustle and bustle of police life, Detective Inspector Bowker is
flicking through the details of a fatal car crash on the A40 the previous
evening. He should have finished his shift half an hour ago, but the name Stone
has all kinds of bells ringing. He’s curious to see why someone like Ayden
Stone would be driving like a lunatic on a busy highway on a Friday evening
when his wife is still recovering in hospital.
The more he reads the
more curious he becomes, realising Mr. Stone was not alone in the vehicle. With
only an ageing Golden Retriever to go home to, he removes his coat and sits
down.
On the pad he uses
for personal notes and references, he jots down the name ‘Elise Richards,’ the
co-passenger and the only fatality. He taps his pen against his bottom teeth
and wracks his brain. "Richards … why does that name sound familiar?”
He leans back in his
chair, pushes his iPad aside and turns over pages in his notebook from previous
days. Every page is full of notes relating to Dan Rizler, pieces of a puzzle
that he had logged for another day, even though it was a cut and dried case of
self-defence.
Be that as it may, he
likes to think he has a sixth sense, and that sixth sense is telling him there
is more to this case than some crazy bastard breaking into a school and
attempting to rape a school teacher. For now though … he has nothing but
fragmented pieces of information to go on.
He contacts the duty
Sergeant to check a few things: times, details, and so forth - for no
particular reason other than to satisfy his curiosity and his need to make sure
everything is above-board.
“Hi Rick, it’s Mack.
I’m just casting an eye over last night’s log and notice there was a smash-up
on the A40…”
“Yeah, that was a
nasty one. Some woman was thrown through the windscreen.”
Mack taps his pen on
the open pad. “Right. And what about the guy? He wasn’t seriously injured,
right?”
“They had to cut him
out and airlift him to hospital. I haven’t heard any more.”
“OK. I’ll see who did
the clear up. I’ll be interested to see who the lady was,” Mack says, still
intrigued. “I’ll have a chat with a couple of CID mates and see what happened.”
“Is there something
dodgy going on?” Rick asks curiously.
“Not that I know of.
I gave evidence in the Rizler case – the assault at the school - and I’ve met
this Stone guy a couple of times. Didn’t strike me as the type to go
joyriding.”
Rick laughs down the
phone. “They never do until they’re caught.”
“Yeah, you’re
probably right, shame about the passenger though.”
“Right, but I heard
she was the one who caused the crash.”
Mack stops tapping
his pen to listen. “What makes you say that?”
“There was a knife on
the floor by her seat; it looked like she was threatening him or something.”
In big letters Mack
writes knife under her seat . “That should take some
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