Out of Time: The Dream Traveler Book One by Ernesto H Lee

Author:Ernesto H Lee [H Lee, Ernesto]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-24T23:00:00+00:00

On my drive home, my mind is filled with a million thoughts, and most of them revolve around Maria, and how soon we should follow up with her. We can’t even think about talking to any of the other suspects until we have a new statement from her, and the longer it takes, the more likely it is that Douglas will be onto us again. On the other hand, if we blunder in again too soon, we might risk losing her completely, and any chance of closing the case will be gone.

Thank God I don’t need to travel again tonight. Hopefully, a decent night’s undisturbed sleep without any alcohol will help me think more clearly.

Whilst all of my dream-travelling is done from the comfort of my bed or sofa, it is still mentally and physically exhausting and after so many trips in such a short space of time, I am looking forward to a quick session in the gym to de-stress, followed by an early night.

My local gym is just a five-minute drive from my building, and after giving my apartment a quick clean and changing into my gym gear, I arrive at just after 7.30 pm.

Apart from a couple of meat heads admiring themselves in the mirrors, and a young woman on one of the rowing machines, the gym is empty, so I have a free run on most of the equipment. I opt to start with a short run on the treadmill to get a sweat going.

I push the speed up to six miles an hour, then raise the incline to ten percent, and feel my pulse quicken and the sweat rising on my forehead.

MTV is blasting out One Kiss, by Calvin Harris and Dua Lipa, but my mind is fixed firmly on Paul Donovan, Maria, and Detective Superintendent Clive Douglas.

Last Friday I had been one hundred percent convinced that within a few days I would have enough evidence to nail Paul Donovan for the hit-and-run death of Ravi Pinto and the murder of Anthony Glennister, but with the intervention and subsequent discovery that Clive Douglas is crooked, now I am not so confident of a quick result.

My meeting with him in 1994 has left me in no doubt as to what kind of man he is. I need to tread extremely carefully from now on, if I don’t want to end up with my head caved in at the bottom of a flooded quarry – for real.

I drop the incline back down and increase the speed to eight miles an hour for the last mile.

I am already tired, but I push myself hard and by the time I finish and hit the stop button, the sweat is pouring off me and my heart is racing.

After three more minutes of a warm-down on the treadmill, I am so preoccupied with checking my stats on the machine that I don’t notice the newcomers in the gym. In fact, I hear them before I see them.

“What the fuck is that

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