Immortal Stonekeeper (2022) Chapter 3: Chapter 3: End Of The Road

Read chapter 3 of Immortal Stonekeeper (2022) by Mercynarie on NovelPedia.

“Jon! Jon, wait up!” Jonathan stopped in his tracks with a sigh and turned around. “Look, Anya, I’ll be fine . I’ve got plenty of contacts in the PI industry. Just don’t expect me to work with the police anymore.” “I know you’re mad—” “I’m not.” “I need a favour, Jon. For old times’ sake. Please?” “If this is regarding that auctioneer murder case, count me out. It’s a huge waste of my time and gives me no credits. I’ll need those to afford a house.” Anya pulled his arm with a surprisingly strong force for a woman her size. “You’d retain your credits if you stop breaking the rules all the time, Jonathan. When will you stop messing up every good thing you have going for you?” “And when will you realise that this credit system is hopelessly flawed?” Jonathan swung his arm away forcefully. “Don’t lecture me, Anya. I know you’re only doing this because solving this case will give you the most credits. I won’t participate in the system that got my father killed. I’m not a hypocrite like you.” An uncomfortable pause hung in the drizzling air. “I’m not doing this for the credits, Jon. I’m doing this for you.” Anya pursed her lips. “The auctioneer died with two puncture wounds to his neck, just like your father. The murders have gotta be linked somehow. I haven’t forgotten my promise, Jon. I— We’ll clear your mother’s name together.” “Save it. They’re gone.” Jonathan cast his head down bitterly. “I… I’m sorry I lashed out like that, Anya. Leave me be.” He broke into a slow jog, splashing small puddles of rainwater onto the side of the pavement. ~ ~ ~ Jonathan trudged into a small alley where cardboard boxes scattered themselves in an organised mess. They formed mini tents, covered by the rectangular lids of trash bins that served both as a shelter and doors to his neighbours’ homes. He walked over to his own prime real estate that snuggled cosily at the end of the alleyway and fiddled with its padlock. The uneven plastic doors swung open, revealing a rather minimalistic space that contained only a mattress and a few household necessities. A small figure jumped towards Jonathan from behind. “Woah! Easy, boy!” he laughed, cradling the excited beagle licking his face aggressively. It sniffed the pocket of his coat and sat down, looking at him expectedly. “Nothing ever gets past that nose of yours, eh?” Jonathan said, pulling out a gem with a striking blue colour. The dog tilted its head as if asking how he got it. He reached into his tent and pulled out a bag of food labelled ‘Oscar’. “Just a little something I nicked from the police evidence.” He smiled as Oscar lapped up the dried food on the floor. “Serves them right for deducting my credits.” His expression darkened quickly. “Dammit Anya, why’d you have to bring up my parents?” Jonathan muttered to himself. He shut his eyes, trying to force out the painful memories of when his mother was accused of murdering his father. It was a closed-room murder on a masquerade party cruise. Joseph Warner was found dead in his cabin. Elizabeth Warner was the only one in the room, although she was in the toilet at the time. To make matters worse, a family heirloom she had always worn had gone missing. The police were all too eager to collect their credits for solving a murder case, and they ignored the questions about her missing necklace. Thirteen-year-old Jonathan was sent to a foster home, and his mother committed suicide in jail a few months later. The sudden silence jolted Jonathan back to his senses. Oscar was on guard, staring in one direction and growling slightly. The man kept the gem back in his pocket and walked towards the two faint silhouettes walking toward him. “May I help you?” he asked. “Don’t play dumb, Warner. You know who we are,” one of them grunted. Jonathan’s eyes flickered to the gun-shaped bulge in his trousers. He smiled nervously. “I know a lot of people,” he said. “I’m a socialite like tha—” Jonathan’s back slammed against the concrete wall with a loud thud, and his wounds