The Hunt (Mike Greystone, Book 1) by Michael Sigurdsson Read Free Book Online Page B

work for money, I got enough from my parents."
    "Still, we’re talking between 200 to 300 hundred dollars per session for a really good therapist, at least once or twice a week for a few months. Times two kids."
    "That's okay for me. I would just have one condition."
    "Yes?"
    "I would like you to choose the therapist and oversee the treatment until they’re healthy again."
    "Well, that would work for me. It would have to be discussed with their mother, Lauren, before I could proceed any further," Dr. Lockerby said.
    "Sure, I'll talk to her."
    "I'm really impressed with your proposal, Mike." said Jane. "But I hope it's really within your means."
    "It is. I would love to help."
    "What do you actually do for a living?" Jane asked.
    "As I said, I'm a contractor working for the government and private clients. I do investigations, interviews, track down people, and gather information. Those kinds of things."
    "Sounds interesting. Hopefully it's not dangerous?"
    "Not really, as long as you know what you’re doing," I wasn't being entirely honest.
    "Are you like James Bond?" she was seriously curious.
    "Jeez, no, of course not. My work is much more commonplace. It does require travel and meeting a lot of people though."
    "You said you don't have to work. Why do you work then?"
    "I need to do something to kill time, literally," I explained. "Moreover, I had a troubled childhood," I said not knowing why. I was not a talkative person, but Dr. Lockerby was very engaging and pleasant to interact with.
    "Sorry to hear that. Tell me about it."
    "Perhaps next time. Besides, I want you to fix the kids, not me," I laughed. Jane laughed heartily too. This caused her boobs to go up and down slightly, which I duly watched. "Here's my business card with my phone number."
    "Invitation accepted," Jane said, quite enthusiastically. "I don't have a business card. Give me another one of yours, I'll write my phone number for you."
    "Cool."
    Lunch arrived. I had a decent steak. Nearly as good as I used to have in London in Covent Garden. This one was a good size, which I honestly didn't mind. I was doing some heavy weightlifting to keep fit, so some extra protein would be good for muscle recovery.
    "That was a lovely lunch. Thanks for the company," I said.
    "I enjoyed it too, thank you for taking me out," Dr. Jane responded and added, "I don't have too many opportunities to go out these days."
    I paid the bill and we went back to the hospital to interview Lauren Wimbledon, whose husband, Carter, was killed in the shooting.

 
     
    10.
     
    Some time ago .
     
    Ron Morgenthal knew Lauren's car very well. He was quite intimate with Lauren. Ron Morgenthal and Lauren Wimbledon had been dating for a few months, and Ron would often meet her after Lauren had dropped her kids at school. They would then go to Lauren's house and get very intimate. In fact, they had been getting so intimate that Ron knew nearly every nook and cranny of her sensuous body. Carter, Lauren's husband, wouldn't approve, no doubt.
    Their extramarital activities took place in a number of locations, but their favorite spot was the master bedroom in Lauren's house. This was the place where Ron Morgenthal would meticulously caress every inch of Lauren's pristine body. Carter Wimbledon, Lauren's husband, would be amazed at how skilled his wife was. He wouldn't particularly fancy the idea of his wife copulating in their marital bed though, but that wasn’t really relevant any more.
    Lauren was a stay-at-home mom. Saying that was a slight understatement. She was in fact looking after their children, John and Karrie, and loved them more than anything else. And that was a lot of work, a job in itself. She was an exemplary mother, there was no doubt about that, but most would agree she wasn't an exemplary wife. Well, you couldn’t argue with the last statement considering she was in bed with Ron Morgenthal regularly. On the other hand, from a different angle, describing Lauren as a