Coalescence (Camden Investigations Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

respectful attributes. He appeared to be a thorough
investigator. And he might one day become the scientist his family would surely
be proud of. She thought of his family, probably residing somewhere on the east
coast. She needed to soften her first impression. He needed to see she wasn’t
always this defensive. Iris extended her hand.
    “I feel rude. I think we skipped formal introductions. My
name is Iris, Iris Camden.”
    “And I’m Mitchell.” His smile was forced. He extended a
hand to shake.
    “Come on, Mitchell  . . . ?” Iris kept a grip on his hand.
    “I just prefer Mitchell. It’s my last name. I hate my
first name with a passion, and if you can believe it, I hate my middle name
more than that.” They released hands.
    “Ouch. Is that the reason you left your family?”
    She cringed at her candid response. It was a harsh thing
to say. But Mitchell smiled and dug his hands into his pockets. “Would you like
to get coffee, Iris Camden?
    Iris liked how Mitchell changed subjects, forgiving her
callous remark. She could attend to his fashion sense some other time.

 
 
    T HEY ENJOYED lattes, sipping from paper cups in the parking
lot of a Starbucks.
    “I guess this is what it means to be an investigator,
doesn’t it?” Iris asked.
    “Please explain.” Mitchell sipped his coffee gingerly.
“Ooh. Still hot.”
    “I’ll say.”
    They laughed.
    “I mean, Mitchell. Look at us. We don’t even feel the
need to share a table inside. We linger in a parking lot. It’s as if we expect
or even need to be on call for that next investigation.”
    “Yeah, that next investigation that will probably lead us
to inconclusive evidence.”
    “You’re so right. But what if it’s different this time?
What if that object really is from some unknown place and is part of some
unknown agenda?”
    “Hey, now you’re talking.” Mitchell squinted. “But in all
seriousness, we need some point of reference to begin an analysis. I just
wish . . .” He paused to listen to the engine of an airplane
overhead.
    “What do you wish?”
    “Apparently, a sign from above. That airplane reminds me
of a report a week back about a crashed satellite. Debris was reported from
surrounding towns. It’s conceivable the dial could originate from that. It
means we do have an unidentified flying object, by loose definition. That
means, Iris, that even if the dial is manmade, I won’t classify it as such
until I can place it from the satellite crash.”
    Mitchell scanned his cell for the photos of the crash.
“You know, it’s conceivable the Morse boy might have been in the vicinity of
the wreckage.”
    “Can you be certain of that?”
    “To be honest, I can’t answer that right now. I will have
to do some research. Find out just what kind of gismos might belong in a
satellite. Find out where the boy ventured to.”
    “And in the meantime . . .?”
    “In the meantime, we keep this dial under lock and key in
storage. I think I can squeeze it in with the other items I’ve failed to unpack
from my move. By the way, I like to refer to it as an artifact, at least until
we can find what its purpose is.”
    “You look like you want to say more.” Iris feared that
Mitchell would tell her others were chasing after it. If this were the case,
Iris felt like she was back at square one, depending on a conspiracy nut to
give her rational answers about a thing that seemed to change temperatures and
time.
    Mitchell answered after a moment’s pause. “I do. We could
really use your sister’s help. If this presence can enlighten us about your
dial in any fashion, it would go a long way in our investigation.” Mitchell
paused and flashed his phone toward Iris. “Ah, there it is, well, a piece of it
anyway.” Iris observed the photo. It was inconclusive at best. Possibly it was
just a picture of roadside junk, but Iris empathized with Mitchell’s need for a
definitive answer.
    Iris nodded. “I agree. But that’s going to be