The Observer (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

window. Twenty-two stories below him the crowd of people once crammed into Times Square began to disperse, as they headed back to their apartments, homes or hotel rooms. Being so high above them, Derek sensed that he was somehow apart from the masses; as if he was untouchable and immune to the struggles, challenges and disasters that humanity has and/or will face. As his thoughts returned to the photograph of the unnamed young man, Derek knew that he was no further away from those people 22 stories below him than if he was walking beside them.
    Driven by a sense of compelling obligation, Derek turned from the window, unzipped his computer bag and pulled out the case folder. He sat on the side of his bed, studying each picture and note again, straining his mind and his eyes to see anything that could lead him to a clue. He studied the list of mosques in the area, paying close attention to those that were indicated as being known to produce radicals. He looked for a pattern, a linkage of any commonality that might direct his investigation.
    Finding nothing, he retrieved his Moleskin notebook, grabbed a pen, and began writing his thoughts.

    “Start with Abdul Fattaah Huda and Badr Irani. Why did Henderson/Cortez indicate Badr is UN sponsored??? Try to contact Cortez - ask about note. Bring pic of unknown to Abdul/Badr - ask if they recognize. What did Cortez mean by me being an ‘unwanted nuisance?’”

    He closed his notebook, flipped open his laptop and checked the private IP address for the streaming look into his other room in the Marquis. Seeing only the occasional flashing light pouring out from the TV, Derek closed the laptop’s lid, fell back into bed, and prayed that his thoughts wouldn’t keep him awake all night.
    He had battled against insomnia since the day his wife was killed; shot by a deranged man during an attempted bank robbery. For weeks after her death, Derek would vividly see his wife Lucy’s eyes, filled with terror as her murderer pressed her face against the bank’s front window. He could still clearly see the life pour out of her eyes as the bullet ripped through her brain. As she collapsed in a heap of death to the floor, Derek watched his life crumble beside his wife’s body.
    As the weeks and months passed, he was haunted by the consistently returning images of that final moment. Her eyes, both pleading and saying “goodbye,” had become a furnace; burning loss, sorrow and despair as its fuel. With his eyes, he watched his own life falling apart. He saw himself, as if he were watching someone else’s life, turn down paths that inevitably led to bad places. He had fallen into a role of a simple observer to his own life. Though he could not see his own eyes that night, he sent a bullet through his mouth, missing its intended mark and leaving only the three inch scar across his cheek as it marched along its path, he felt that his eyes matched the sorrow, terror and hopelessness that his wife’s held during her final moments.
    As he lay in bed, desperate to keep his eyes open, he held off sleep’s approach as long as he could. He had found the memory of Lucy’s face, the memory of her smile when her eyes were filled with love and joy instead of horror, again, but still feared the invasion of the other memory each night. He had come to understand that it was this flash of the memory of her beautiful face that had caused Derek to turn his head away at the last possible second that night he tried to silence all memories. Her face, the desperately hoped-for and finally recalled memory of her face was what had saved him that night. He held on to that face, studied each delicate line as he slipped into sleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

    August 13, 2014

    It wasn’t what he expected at all. The mosque was tucked tightly in between a hair salon and a small clothing store. Derek would have easily missed the mosque if he hadn't known the address and was actively looking for it. Next to the commonly used heavy