Free STORM LOG-0505: A Gripping, Supernatural Crime Thriller (The First Detective Deans Novel) by James D Mortain

Deans said. ‘I’ll sit down here and wait until she’s free. I’m doing fine for time,’ he lied. It was getting late and he still had lots to do.
    As Deans bided his time, he noticed a small CCTV camera positioned in the corner of the wall behind the counter, pointing towards the front door. It looked real enough but could easily be a dummy, which was exactly how Deans was feeling right then. This place was certainly out of his comfort zone.
    Eco-warrior music played softly in the background, and glass shelving displayed exotic-looking crystals and stones as if they meant something. To him they were just curious rocks. He looked closer. Each one had a black label with gold handwriting describing the stone’s powers and the price. ‘Jesus,’ he whispered. Eighty-five quid for a small black pebble.
    Deans shook his head at the desperation people must feel to spend so much money, and the exploitative ways in which some were willing to cash in on the vulnerabilities of others.
    After twenty more minutes of awkward silence, the rear door opened and a pretty, young woman full of verve and smiles entered the room. Deans sat up straight and adjusted his tie. She noticed him and smiled pleasantly back. Deans was about to ask if she was Denise when another woman walked in behind her. Denise Moon, he presumed.
    She was not as he had expected. In her late forties, with long dark hair, pale skin and a friendly, almost familiar face. Although she was still quite young, she was mumsy at the same time.
    The smiling woman paid with a card and left the shop, announcing that she would return next week. Deans looked over to the man, expecting him to relay his message, but instead he said nothing and remained seated behind the counter. Needing to take the initiative once again, Deans stood up.
    ‘Hello,’ he said, ‘Denise Moon?’
    ‘Yes. Hello. How may I help you?’ She was holding out her hand to shake. Deans noticed that she had near-flawless skin. She was naturally attractive with large, brown intelligent eyes. A black, sparkly stone around her neck on a long slender chain caught his eye, and he wondered what it was. He could only imagine how much it would cost going by the prices of the other pebbles on display.
    ‘Hello,’ he said again, taking her outstretched hand. ‘I’m Detective Constable Andrew Deans. I was wondering if I could trouble you for a short while. You may be able to help me with an investigation I’m conducting.’
    She had a look of surprise. ‘Yes, of course.’ She turned to the man behind the counter. ‘How’s the diary looking, Ash?’
    ‘Next appointment in fifteen minutes,’ he replied, without taking his eyes away from Deans.
    Denise smiled warmly and welcomed Deans through to the back. He followed her into a low-arched hallway and through to a room similar in appearance to a spa salon. There was a treatment bed in the centre, leather seating was against one wall and peaceful music playing in the background.
    ‘I do hope you haven’t been waiting long, Detective?’ she asked. ‘I’m afraid Ash can be a little protective of my schedule.’
    ‘No, no, not at all,’ he lied again and she gave him a knowing smile. ‘Please, call me Andy,’ he said.
    ‘How may I be of assistance to you?’
    ‘Do you know a Miss Amy Poole?’
    ‘Yes, I do,’ Denise replied without hesitation. ‘She is a wonderful girl and extremely bright. I have been helping her with some work. She’s interested in the power of mediumship.’
    Ms Moon was clearly skilled in non-verbal communication and subtly encouraged Deans to expand.
    ‘I’m afraid Amy is missing,’ he reciprocated.
    She half-stepped backwards and covered her mouth. ‘Oh my God! Since when?’
    ‘Saturday last week. I am trying to trace her movements to establish where she may be or whom she may be with. I found a diary with what I believe to be your initials beside certain dates and I’d just like to check these out and ask you about