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

“We need to find somewhere safe for you to stay. Somewhere that El Gordito and his men can’t find you. I can’t be certain any more that he won’t see you as a loose end and come after you.”

Lazlo shrugged off their apparent lack of emotion at this devastating news and continued. “I could get you into a safe house, off the record, but it would mean trusting a few other people in order to deactivate the alarms and cameras and to take you completely off-grid.”

Jennifer looked at John, who was standing behind Lazlo and shaking his head.

“It’s too dangerous,” John said to her. “Santiago will find out somehow. We can’t trust anyone, not even Lazlo. I have somewhere for you both to stay. Just tell him you already have a safe place.”

Jennifer gave John a look meaning Are you sure?

“Yes!” John pressed.

“We have a place. We don’t want anyone to know about it,” she said awkwardly, glancing at David, whose look said he had no idea what she was talking about.

Lazlo picked up on her father’s confusion. “I need to get some papers from another room. It’ll give you two time to agree where you’ll be staying,” he said as he got up and left them alone.

“What are you talking about, Jen?” David asked immediately. Lazlo was out of the room.

“That’s what I was about to ask John. Dad, wait, a second.”

She turned and looked at John expectantly.

“My father bought a second apartment in the building where we live in Brooklyn Heights,” John enthused. “He was trying to rent it, but his asking price was too high, then he got a ridiculous offer from an overseas buyer who put down a large deposit to hold it for two months until the guy comes to New York to finalize the deal. So now it’s off-market, empty, and fully furnished with still a month to go. You can stock it up with food and hide out there. It’s comfortable.”

Jennifer repeated John’s words to David. He looked at her for a moment and then gestured like there was no other choice. “Thank you, that’s extremely generous,” he finally said, not knowing where in the room to direct the words.

A few moments passed, and Lazlo returned. “All done and agreed?” he said, smiling. “How will I contact you, to know that you are OK?”

“Tell him you’ll get a burner phone and call him every week,” John advised.

Jennifer confirmed to the detective that she would call and that she had Lazlo’s number.

Twenty-Two

While David and Jennifer were parking David’s car out of sight in a long-term, multi-story parking deck near the apartment building in Brooklyn Heights, John had gone to his father’s penthouse apartment on the twelfth floor to get the keys to the rental. Being able to pass through doors and walls hadn’t lost its novelty or usefulness. His superpowers, however, didn’t extend to an ability to make solid objects like keys pass through the door with him, and he found himself having to exit the apartment by opening the door and passing through it with the keys like a mortal.

As he walked up to the door of number twelve, three floors below his father’s apartment, he saw Jennifer and David already waiting with the wheeled suitcases they had packed back at their house.

David watched the keys and card approach, as if under their own steam, in a gentle backward and forward swaying motion. They stopped swaying and moved forward in an upward arc and dropped into Jennifer’s outstretched open hand. “I really can’t get used to this,” he muttered.

Jennifer opened the door to the apartment, expecting to see something special. As they had approached, driving along Piedmont Street, John had pointed out the building. It was a sleek, modern condo sitting among immaculately maintained and architecturally rich pre-war buildings and manicured greenery. Extending out from the main entrance was a long Manhattan-style canopy in a cool gray, with the name ‘Kingston Residences’ printed on either side of it. At the end of this, dressed in full uniform, was, according to John, one of the nicest, most charming people he had ever met––Jake the doorman.

“Wow, this is swanky!” said Jennifer as she walked through the apartment’s foyer and headed between sleek furniture in the living room toward the balcony and the view of the Brooklyn and Verrazano bridges. “And your father has a bigger place in this same building?”

“About twice the size, with a view on the harbor from a terrace.”

“Why the hell are you going to my school? You could go to any of the best schools in Brooklyn or Lower Manhattan!”

“My dad never went to a private school back home, and neither did I. We both decided nothing would change when we came to New York,” John said and added, “I’ll leave you to walk around and get used to it, but there’s one important feature you should know about…there’s a safe room.”

“Like in the movie Panic Room with Jodie Foster?”

“Not exactly—safe rooms look a bit different now.”

“Where is it?” Jennifer responded with some trepidation as she imagined hiding in a windowless cell, scared out of her wits.

“Follow me.” John led Jennifer and David through the master bedroom and into a huge walk-in closet. It was spacious and lined with doors, two large padded chairs and a footstool. At the far end was a doorway to the master, en-suite bathroom. They glimpsed marble finishes and a freestanding bath.

John stopped in the middle of the closet.

“So, is the panic—I mean safe room, behind one of these doors?” Jennifer asked.

“No.”

“So where is it?”

“You’re standing in it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“The walls have Kevlar and steel plate in their construction, and so does the door between the bedroom and the closet. There are no windows, and there’s a separate ventilation system. Try closing the door to the bedroom.”

Jennifer looked for the door. It took her a moment. It was hidden in a recess in the wood paneling of the wall. It swung