Soul Meaning (A Seventeen Series Novel: An Action Adventure Thriller Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

accepted his offer to become my business partner. It was that or shoot him. Since I had never killed anyone in cold blood, I was left with little choice but to agree to his proposition.
    I asked him once why he had been so determined to work with me. To this he replied, ‘I had a feeling things would always be lively around you. Besides, the homicide unit was starting to wear me down.’
    I decided to take this as a compliment. We changed the name of the detective agency I had originally formed with my best friend and moved to smaller premises across town. The other place held too many painful memories for me.
    The previous night, a young ER doctor enthusiastically expounded on how the steel rod that had pierced Reid’s thigh had missed his bone and artery by a mere inch. He sounded faintly disappointed it hadn’t done so. He went on to ask about the bullet wound in my chest and finally faltered in the face of our stares. Reid refused the crutches offered to him by a nurse and made a half-muttered promise to return for a follow-up check. The woman’s face filled with doubt at his words. She perked up when I told her I would bring him back for the appointment, dead or alive.
    We rode to the docks earlier that morning to retrieve the Chevy. Bar some bird droppings, the car had remained untouched. Reid never asked about the Hayabusa.
    I sat on our second-hand leather sofa, closed my eyes, and leaned against the backrest. I heard Reid press the answer button on the phone. The subtle scratch of pencil across paper followed as he wrote down the messages from the previous day.
    Our landlady had called about our overdue rent, her tone somewhat cool. A hesitant Mr. Novak wanted to know how much it would cost to provide photographic evidence of his wife’s infidelity. A soft-spoken and elderly sounding Miss Kaplinsky had phoned about a missing cat. A salesman from Ink R Us promised a fifteen-percent discount if we ordered thirty ink cartridges by the end of the day. A Mr. Price from Maine Investment Corp wished to talk to us about investigating one of his employees.
    The last message was from several days ago. I opened my eyes and studied the ceiling as the words of a dead man rolled out of the speaker.
    ‘Good morning. My name is Cain Haus. A friend recommended your agency to me. I would be grateful if you could ring me back to arrange a meeting.’ There was a small lull. ‘I particularly want to meet with Mr. Soul. The matter I wish to discuss is a delicate one and I believe he’s in the best position to assist me.’
    The beep of the machine was loud in the hush that followed.
    ‘There’s a voice we won’t be hearing anytime soon,’ murmured Reid. There was more silence. ‘Wanna talk about it?’ he said finally.
    I rose, strode to the filing cabinet that served as our drinks tray, and reached for the bottle of bourbon. I poured another measure into my coffee.
    ‘That bad, huh?’ said Reid.
    ‘Mikael Olsson.’
    He looked at me blankly.
    ‘That’s the name Haus mentioned last night,’ I explained in a leaden tone. ‘It’s also the name of a friend who died ten years ago.’
    Rain drummed against the window. On the street below, people milled along the sidewalks, umbrellas bowing under the force of the heavy autumnal shower.
    ‘Was he the one you were mourning when Suarez shot you?’ said Reid.
    I nodded mutely.
    He knitted his eyebrows. ‘Any chance Haus knew him from way back then?’
    I shook my head. ‘I don’t think so. Mikael disliked the Hunters as much as I did.’
    A door slammed somewhere in the corridor outside. We shared the second floor of the building with several other offices. Elevator doors opened with a faint ‘ping’. Voices rose and faded in the distance.
    Reid grunted. ‘So, what are you saying?’
    I turned from the window. ‘I think he might still be alive.’ I hesitated as the words sank in. Now that I had actually voiced them, they felt more real. ‘And I think he faked his own