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Book online «Earthbound : A gripping crime thriller full of twists and supernatural suspense Fynn Perry (if you liked this book TXT) 📖». Author Fynn Perry



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the center of his cinnamon-colored, round face. He was clearly a lover of bright, patterned shirts, wearing them casually or as part of a suit.

The lock to the main door of the house clicked open, and for a bad moment, it struck Jennifer that it might not be her father who had just come in––there was no familiar clank of the keys hitting the metal tray by the door.

“Pumpkin, it’s me.”

Jennifer was relieved to hear her father’s voice.

“I’m in my room, Dad,” she called out as she quickly put all the books away. From her bedroom she could hear the loud creak of the middle and last treads whenever someone was on their way upstairs. The first creak would mean her father would be five seconds from opening the door. The second creak, two seconds. She finished putting her stuff away, but the first creak never came. She started to worry. “He always comes up to my room when he comes home. I’m going to check and see what’s going on.”

She walked out of her room and went down the stairs, omitting the creaky ones just in case someone else might be in the house. John followed her. As she walked through the hall, she could hear heavy breathing coming from the living room. She looked back at John, who just shrugged.

She walked in and saw her father collapsed on the sofa. His head was resting back on a cushion, and he was looking upward.

“Oh, my God! What the hell happened to your hand?” Jennifer exclaimed noticing the bandage spotted with blood.

“It’s all fine now. I’ll tell you, but make me a sandwich while I do, OK?”

“Sure,” said Jennifer. She wasn’t surprised at the request. Her father was often hungry, and it would take something truly remarkable for him to lose his appetite.

She went to the kitchen, got the bread and everything else she needed out of the fridge: tomatoes, butter, coarse grain mustard, cheese, and ham. Anticipating that one sandwich would not be enough, she made another.

David gratefully started to work on them.

“This,” he said, lifting his bandaged hand, “came completely out of the blue and I still can’t quite understand it.” He paused, taking another bite of the sandwich. “Devereux came to visit me at the clinic. He didn’t want to talk about the Hardwell case but instead questioned me about an old case I had worked on. He started playing with a heavy letter opener on my desk, and then, before I knew what had happened, he had stabbed me in the hand. He must have had some kind of episode, because as soon as he left my room, he collapsed. We called an ambulance. I didn’t have time to check on him because I was bleeding and had to drive myself to the hospital.”

She waited for him to finish taking another bite, her concern mounting.

“The nurse said that as long as I can keep clenching my fingers into a fist, everything is healing properly.” His tone was now more upbeat. As he staggered up from the couch, Jennifer’s emotions gushed out. “Are you telling me everything, Dad?” He sat back down and motioned for her to sit next to him. He knew real concern when he saw it in his daughter’s eyes. “I think so, sweetheart. I mean, I’ve never known Devereux to become so fiercely angry before. It’s like his eyes were actually blazing for a moment. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like he was someone else.”

Jennifer’s face went pale, literally from blood loss, like wax, as she put two and two together and realized that the spirit she had seen leave Hardwell and enter Devereux must have stayed inside him when Devereux had gone to see her father. She had restrained herself before but, this time, she had no choice but to tell her father about the existence of spirits––she never imagined that he would somehow be affected by them. But how? She decided to just launch in without telling him yet that she could actually see these things. “Dad, extreme as it sounds, I think this guy Hardwell was possessed by an evil spirit when he tried to kill John.” She put a hand up to stop him interjecting. “I know, I know. It sounds ridiculous. Just hear me out. I think it moved on then, and possessed Devereux in order to threaten––”

“Sweetheart! Sweetheart! That’s ridiculous. We know Hardwell is deeply troubled. But the idea that he might be possessed . . .” He shook his head and fell silent for a moment. “He imagined you to be your mother and stabbed John because he was jealous of him. That’s all this is about. When you feel unsafe, you deal with it by imagining ghosts, like you did with grandma when she died, but Hardwell is in Rikers and not going anywhere. You have nothing to worry about. Devereux has obviously spent too much time with Hardwell, and with the stress of starting his own practice, he’s had some kind of psychotic episode. Perhaps he was on some meds nobody knew about and he forgot to take them today.”

“No, you don’t understand! It’s not him,” she protested. “It’s the evil spirit inside him!”

Darling, I know this has been a tremendous ordeal, but that’s ridiculous. I thought you’d grown out of this ghost story obsession of yours.”

Jennifer gave a small nod. She stopped the conversation and put her arms around her father, resting her head on his chest. He had always been her hero, her rock, the one to turn to in her greatest need. But he was just a mortal and unable to help her this time. Her eyes started to moisten.

She sat there for a few moments until she was able to compose herself. She was stronger than she thought. She changed the subject. “Mom’s not coming today; she’s flying back tomorrow.”

“I know—she called me. The best thing you can do is get some rest, Pumpkin.” He embraced her

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