Dark Places of the Soul: Dark Soul Trilogy - Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

eyes looking through damp bangs.
    There was a noticeable chemistry between
them. James Lansing had always considered himself dense when it
came to women and a few had chosen to remind him of the flaw.
Doubts about his ability to interact with the fairer sex seemed to
always end up plaguing his relationships. A heart filled with
erotic lust kept him continually weaving though relationships with
women out of his league.
    His last romantic liaison had gone nowhere
as far as he was concerned, and everywhere as far as his co-worker,
a divorced English teacher, thought. His lustful desire for her
brought them a couple intense evenings at her place. His jealousy
about her continued relationship with the man she’d been married to
reminded him of just how thick-headed he was.
    He started the vehicle after placing his
empty coffee mug in the recessed portion of the center console. His
eyes took one more trail across the girl next to him. The scarred
knee caught his attention again, she didn’t seem to notice.
    “ So tell me about the
accident,” he said while glancing out the side of the Winnebago for
any oncoming traffic.
    “ This one?” She stretched
her leg out over the console and playing her toes against his arm.
He looked, not certain if he should, especially since her panties
topped the pile of dirty clothes destined for a
Laundromat.
    “ Yeah,” he said as he took
inventory of five toes and nicely shaped leg. “Musta been a nasty
accident.” His shirt on her body was dangerously close to revealing
things private.
    She stroked the lingering reminder of a
foolish venture from her high school years. “Motorcycle,” she said,
“playin’ around with a boy friend’s bike… dumped it in a field and
received quite a few stitches from a broken piece of rusted
metal.”
    “ You got
lucky.”
    “ Sucks!”
    Her comment drew his quick reaction.
    “ It’s lookin’ better now,”
she responded to his expression, “but when it first happened I
wouldn’t dream of wearin’ a skirt.”
    “ And would you wear one
today?”
    “ Don’t own one t’day… that
pile of dirty laundry is all I have to my name.”
    “ That,” he said, taking
notice of how many buttons were unfastened on the garment she wore,
“and the shirt you stole from me.”
     
    ***
     
    Stephanie Hawkins came into the world in
1954; eight years after her father, uncle and two other men took a
life on a cold February night. Abner Hollis came into her life not
long before her father’s death. The tall man had always been frail
to her perception, bent and crooked, sitting on the doorstep of the
next life. Her father and uncle never spoke about the night in ’46,
but Abner seemed to feel Stephanie needed to be apprized of the
whole episode. She had no doubt that the four men eliminated an
evil on the cold unforgiving night. Were they vigilantes? Stephanie
never took time to rationalize the situation the four men had
placed themselves in.
    She took care of Abner, the old man her
father seemed indebted to. At thirty years old she viewed her
father as heroic, though this image of him came after his death. He
achieved hero status not only for the actions having taken place
that February night thirty-eight years ago, but for the entire life
spent concealing secrets too dangerous for the world to grasp.
    It wasn’t a good idea, for Abner to go to
Boston. The man, despite his age and nearness to death, couldn’t be
argued with. Maybe, Stephanie thought, living on death’s doorstep
made every action taken so much more urgent.
    Abner stood waiting
outside his place when she pulled up in her brand new Pontiac. The
white Firebird caught her eye the moment she first saw it on the
dealer’s lot. Abner told her such an expensive
vehicle
    was a waste of hard earned money.
    “ I still don’t think this
is a good idea,” she said as he buckled himself into the front
seat.
    “ What isn’t… my going to
Boston or the fact that I’m a passenger in this