Earthbound : A gripping crime thriller full of twists and supernatural suspense Fynn Perry (if you liked this book TXT) 📖

what must have been Santiago’s spirit flooded back. “He said he wasn’t going to kill me now but was planning something for later. He was trying to play on my fears. Keeping me terrified, in anticipation. I must have blocked remembering this until now because I didn’t believe it had really happened!”

Jennifer said nothing. She could sense he had more to say.

“I thought we were safe!” David whispered in bewilderment. “With a name like Miller in a city like New York, nobody would have cause to think we were those Millers. I checked—there are 50,000 Millers registered here, and out of those, a thousand David Millers, and as many Jennifer Millers. It was a case of either us moving here or to a backward town somewhere in the boonies,” he said nervously. Then he continued, almost babbling now. “I thought there was nothing more low profile than doing charity-funded legal work in Brooklyn. That any gangland interference with my cases would be extremely small.”

Jennifer put her hand on his. “We would have been safe if Santiago hadn’t been murdered in prison . . . and if . . . if there wasn’t this other dimension where spirits go on existing. I know it sounds crazy. But it’s all real, Dad.” She paused, glancing at John before continuing, “We believe Santiago’s spirit was selected and that El Gordito was matched with him as the perfect mortal host for him to possess.”

David said nothing, his mind switching between the fear of such a partnership and the ridiculousness of it. “El Gordito runs the most powerful drug distribution network in the States. I guess he has contacts all over the city . . .” he finally said.

“That’s how Santiago must have found you,” Jennifer surmised.

David nodded, still dumbstruck. “What do you mean, Santiago was selected and matched?”

Jennifer took a deep breath, filled her cheeks with air, then blew it out and explained what she and John knew of The Game and how the key to getting rid of Santiago was to ensure his failure at it, which would necessitate the downfall of his host, El Gordito, in the real world.

The light was fading outside by the time David finally understood. He sat silent for a long moment after that. As much as he wanted to, he could not just dismiss as fantasy what his daughter had said—after all, he’d just seen proof of the existence of John’s spirit with his own eyes. But the idea that humanity in the afterlife might control the present day and the past? That was even more mind-blowing.

He steepled his fingers under his chin and attempted to clear his head of his many scattered thoughts. He had to put the whole spirit world revelation to one side, calm the pounding in his head, and think of someone who could help them bring about the downfall of Miguel Vargas. Anything that could be done in the mortal world was, at least, feasible. And, with his thoughts tumbling, he realized that nobody had a better grasp of the inside track on how New York was run—with regard to politics, drugs, gangs, and the police—than a young reporter David had once worked with—Paul Hamilton from The New York Tribune. As the paper’s Miami correspondent, Hamilton had covered some of David’s more high-profile cases with impressive integrity. David proposed they all go and see him.

Seventeen

Following a quick call by David and the promise of a major story, thirty minutes later by taxi, they were at Hamilton’s door in an apartment building in the Flatiron District of Manhattan. The journalist was in his early thirties, lanky and pale-skinned, with short blond hair that was gelled to give it a spiked look.

Hamilton didn’t waste time on pleasantries save for a brief handshake and curt greeting. He invited them in and then gestured for them to sit down on the only couch in the main room of his small apartment. He got straight to the point and asked Jennifer to spill the story while he sat back in a battered leather armchair, making notes on a pad.

Jennifer had already agonized over how to get around the obvious problem that the witness to all the incredible events she was about to describe was a spirit, a ghost. Clearly, she had to say a mortal had seen what John had seen. Her solution, which was to claim that she had sources who preferred to remain anonymous, was, as she expected, met with a look of suspicion by the reporter. However, after he glanced in her father’s direction and received a nod of approval, Hamilton seemed satisfied to continue. She recited John’s observations of the drug manufacturing and distribution, substituting John for an invented production assistant working in the laboratory in the secret basement of the fulfillment center in New Jersey. And secondly, she gave John’s account of the organ harvesting, this time substituting him with a fictitious orderly at the medical center located at Hargreave Merciful hospital in Manhattan. Both witnesses naturally refused to give their names for fear of reprisals, and Jennifer was unable to say how she knew them for the same reason.

Hamilton interrupted. “David, we have known each other for a long time, so you can understand my curiosity and my doubts as to whether a laboratory assistant and an orderly working for El Gordito’s organization would confide in your daughter.”

“You’re right, Paul. It’s more complicated. The information came via other parties, but we can’t give you any names,” David admitted. “You have to trust me, this story is huge. Do some initial investigations, and I’m sure you’ll find something to support what you are hearing.”

“As she’s your daughter, I’ll hear her out,” Hamilton conceded.

Hamilton continued to listen intently to Jennifer, all the while making notes until she had finished. “I’ve seen drug manufacture by cartels in Mexico and I’ve reported on organ harvesting in India, but to find the two linked, right here in New York, is incredible,” he muttered.

“Let me