The Irony Of De Jà Vu

By Laura E Simms

The final book in the DS Steven Potter series

Life is going well for Laurel and Darren Hunter, but the storm clouds are gathering. The past will catch up with them in a traumatic and dramatic way.

DS Steven Potter must work four cases at once. Will he able to cope with the events about to unfold?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura E Simms
• Release date: Jan 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301675401

Laura E Simms

Laura Simms 1987-BooksEnd GameThe Legend of the Talking SwordTaken for a MugHorses For CoursesMillionaire's PlaypenGemini BloodThe Irony of de ja vuI have wanted to be an author since I was 6. So this is a dream realised for me.The last year has been very productive with lots more writing to come hopefully.But I will let you be the judge of what you read, so all that remains to be said isHappy reading

Book preview

The Irony of de jà vu

By Laura Simms

The Irony of de jà vu

Laura Simms

Copyright by Laura Elizabeth Simms 2013

Smashwords Edition

For Rachel Holtom

Prologue

Friday 18th March 2039- 9:30am

DS Steven Potter was fighting the urge to be sick. He never felt comfortable around dead bodies, which was weird considering his job. He often reflected on the abruptness of murder, how you could be riding along happily one minute and be ripped from life the next.

Today however the discovery of the two lifeless bodies in the undergrowth of Madeley Forest. The mid March sun beat down upon him, unusually warm as the medical examiner Byron Baron probed the victims. Steven was praying silently to himself.

Please God! No I can’t stand this. I’ll do anything, let it not be them. I’ll go to church every single day, twice on Sundays

Byron stripped off his plastic gloves as his assistants moved the bodies to body bags.

What do you think? Steven asked, almost nervously.

Dead for up to 36 hours? Byron replied.

Manner of death? Steven replied.

Shot at point blank range in the head. Either double murder, or murder suicide. An hour or so apart. The female has injuries consistent with being held by ropes on the wrist and track marks all the way up the arms Byron hedged his bets.

Identification? Steven stepped round to take a look and his breath stopped abruptly in his chest. His prayers had not been answered. Even if he couldn’t see the perfectly preserved face he would have recognised the wedding ring on the female’s finger. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds winked up at him. He had been present the day nearly 36 years before when that gold band, complete with stunning stones was slipped onto Laurel Marie Hunter’s finger. Her hands lay peacefully across her chest, though her death can have been anything, but peaceful. Her emerald eyes were open, glassy, but not accusing. Her greying auburn hair was loose around her shoulders. She didn’t look like a woman, just less than a month short of her 52nd birthday. Her skin had aged well.

Slowly, reluctantly Steven slid his eyes to the other body. Laurel’s husband had a resigned look on his face, as though accepting this turn of events as inevitable. Darren Joseph Hunter’s as deeply sapphire, as his wife’s were emerald were also open and blank. The single plain gold band he had worn for the best part of 36 years was still on his finger. His balding blonde hair was as usual gelled carefully, but at the same time carelessly into spikes.

Steven fought the urge to be violently sick. His thoughts were all over the place. There was the family to be informed. The Hunter family tree was so complicated, it was fucking ridiculous. Then there was the fact that Darren was his oldest childhood friend, though Steven’s own actions over the last 3 years or so were questionable to say the least in this regard.

He walked away, hands deep in his pocket and ducked out from under the crime scene tape. This forest had a very bloody history. There was of course the Madeley Jackson saga. That made women’s eyes glint and men wince in pain at the very thought. Steven wondered if Angie had ever considered that drastic action with Joseph’s genitals. It was all academic now anyway. Steven’s blood iced over as he thought this. The only reason Angela Jane Hunter had found to continue to exist was lying feet from him, being prodded and poked, by dispassionate, completely professional hands. She would never ever recover from this. He may as put the gun in her hand and watch as