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<\/a><\/p>\nIt’s finally here! \u00a0Into Thin Air<\/em> is finally available on Kindle! \u00a0And you can get it here!<\/p>\n But maybe you’re not sure. \u00a0Maybe you don’t know if you’ll be interested in an odd ghost story. \u00a0Maybe you’d like to try it out.<\/p>\n Sure. \u00a0Have Chapter One. \u00a0On me:<\/p>\n Chapter One<\/p>\n Beginnings<\/p>\n \u201cBut Detective!\u201d The young girl\u2019s voice rose to a pitch that made Detective David \u201cMac\u201d McIntyre flinch back from the phone receiver. He could face bullets without much fear, but teenage girls gave him nightmares. \u201cWhy did this happen? What are you going to DO?\u201d<\/p>\n Her last words were more sob than question.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re going to investigate it,\u201d Mac promised her, making more notes in his notebook. \u201cSave the message and have your mother or father bring you into the station tomorrow, so our techs can get a copy of it. Okay?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay.\u201d She hiccuped a few times, but she wasn\u2019t screeching anymore, which his eardrums were thankful for. \u201cDetective?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you think she\u2019s still alive?\u201d<\/p>\n The question, asked almost in a whisper, tore at his heart more than her tears had. \u201cI hope so,\u201d he said finally. \u201cI hope so.\u201d<\/p>\n He hung up and looked over at his partner. \u201cWhat the hell is going on, Javy?\u201d he asked. \u201cThat\u2019s the third phone call we\u2019ve had in the past two days about these random messages from a missing girl. Is there a full moon or something?\u201d<\/p>\n Detective Javier \u201cJavy\u201d Spenser shook his head. \u201cFourth, actually,\u201d he corrected, handing over a piece of paper. \u201cWhile you were talking to that one, someone else called in.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSame girl leaving the message?\u201d Mac asked, taking the paper and scanning through Javy\u2019s notes. The words all but leapt out at him, nearly identical to the notes in his notebook, and he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. \u201cHow is this happening?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI dunno,\u201d Javy said. \u201cBut I\u2019ve got something else for you too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMore bad news?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDepends on what you consider bad news.\u201d Javy handed over a dusty file. \u201cI found Terri Reynolds.\u201d<\/p>\n Terri Reynolds. The mystery girl leaving messages on her friends\u2019 cellphones. Mac was intrigued despite himself.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you, now?\u201d Mac flipped open the file and sneezed. \u201cWell, let\u2019s see what you found.\u201d The case had gone cold before he\u2019d transferred into the Major Crimes unit, so this was all new to him.<\/p>\n Javy leaned back and recited, \u201cTerri Reynolds. Three years ago, she was twelve and heading home from school after cheerleading practice. She and her best friend walked to her best friend\u2019s house, where Terri had a snack with her, then she started to walk home. Never made it to her own house. Her mother went out looking for her approximately two hours after Terri left her best friend\u2019s house, and found her backpack and one shoe on the side of the road.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNever seen since,\u201d Mac completed, still reading. \u201cIn the backpack was her cellphone, her school notes and her wallet, minus the twenty dollars her mother had given her that morning.\u201d He flipped up a page. \u201cNo blood or fluids on the shoe. No other sign of her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUntil now,\u201d Javy said. \u201cWhen four of her friends had made calls to us, claiming to have received a cellphone message from her in the last three days.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you think it\u2019s a joke?\u201d Mac said, closing the folder and looking over at his partner. \u201cSomeone with a similar phone could have hacked her number and left these messages.\u201d<\/p>\n Javy leaned back in his chair, obviously considering that idea as he watched the other state police officers currently on shift work. Glassdon, New Hampshire wasn\u2019t a big town, but the disappearance of Terri Reynolds had caused enough hue and cry that the local police had shunted the case to the Major Crimes Unit of the state police, where it had promptly died for that very lack of evidence that Mac had noted – not closed, never closed, but without any evidence, what more could the police do?<\/p>\n And now we have evidence, sort of,<\/em> Mac thought sourly, setting the folder down and eying it as if it were going to move on its own. If you can call weird phone messages evidence.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWell, we have the phone down in the evidence room, according to the file,\u201d Javy said, bringing Mac back to the present. \u201cIf it isn\u2019t there, we know someone\u2019s being a jackass. If it is, then we can have the techs look at it and see if they can figure out what\u2019s going on.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s worth a shot,\u201d Mac said, starting to get up. Then his phone rang again. He sighed and picked up the receiver, settling back down in his chair. \u201cDetective McIntyre.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMac, I\u2019ve got a Mrs. Carmen Reynolds here to see you,\u201d the receptionist said. \u201cIn connection with a missing persons case, she said. I think you and Javy are the only detectives here right now – can you talk to her?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure, send her up,\u201d Mac said, gesturing to Javy to stay. \u201cWe\u2019ll be happy to talk to her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTalk to who?\u201d Javy said, as Mac hung up the phone again.<\/p>\n \u201cSomeone about a missing persons case,\u201d Mac told him. \u201cWe\u2019re the only two detectives in now.\u201d<\/p>\n Javy sighed and got up. \u201cI\u2019ll go get us coffee.\u201d<\/p>\n Mrs. Carmen Reynolds turned out to be a small woman, prematurely old and frail. Her hair had once been dark; now it was colorless, not white, not silver, but a kind of grey that leached the life from her wrinkled skin and made her pale blue eyes the only color in her face. Despite her aged appearance, she moved with the slow grace that said she\u2019d once been a dancer, sinking into the chair Mac offered her like a ballerina curtsying, every move precise.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you for seeing me, Detective.\u201d Her voice was low, but richer and steadier than Mac had expected. \u201cI know I should have waited, but when I heard about the calls, I had to come down and find out.\u201d She reached out and laid an unusually strong hand on his arm as he sat back down in his chair. \u201cIs it true? Have there really been calls from my Terri?\u201d<\/p>\n Mac blinked, suddenly making the connection. \u201cYour missing person is Terri Reynolds? Your daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d Her pale lips trembled. \u201cIs it true?\u201d<\/p>\n Javy had come back with three coffee mugs as she asked, and he raised a dark eyebrow at his partner behind Mrs. Reynolds\u2019 back. Mac gave a short nod as he answered her.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s true that we\u2019ve been contacted by several people regarding some phone messages,\u201d he said gently, laying his hand over hers. \u201cWe\u2019re definitely looking into it, but we don\u2019t have anything substantive yet.\u201d He hesitated, wondering if she were strong enough to hear the rest of it, then decided to take a chance and added, \u201cWe\u2019re not sure it\u2019s not a prank yet, so we didn\u2019t want to say anything to you yet.\u201d And we didn\u2019t really know there was a case until today.<\/p>\n Tears welled in her eyes. \u201cA prank? Do you really think that\u2019s what it might be?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t know yet,\u201d Mac repeated. \u201cWe\u2019re still investigating, Mrs. Reynolds.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou will tell me, though, won\u2019t you?\u201d she begged him, clutching at his arm. \u201cPlease?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course we will,\u201d Javy said, startling her a bit. The big man could move silently when he wanted, something Mac envied. \u201cYou haven\u2019t changed any of your contact information, have you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, the other detectives told me not to,\u201d Mrs. Reynolds said, turning to him. \u201cI wanted to talk to them, but the receptionist said they weren\u2019t here.\u201d Mac made a mental note to look back in the file and see who the detectives assigned to the case were. \u201cI\u2019ve kept everything the same.\u201d The threatened tears started to leak a bit as she asked, \u201cIf it is her calling, why hasn\u2019t she called me?\u201d<\/p>\n Considering the messages were \u201cI think I\u2019m dead,\u201d it\u2019s probably a blessing,<\/em> Mac thought, but he said, \u201cYou haven\u2019t gotten any calls, then, Mrs. Reynolds?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, nothing.\u201d Mrs. Reynolds drew in a ragged breath, obviously trying to bring herself under control, and accepted a mug of coffee from Javy, who sat down at his own desk. \u201cWhich means it probably isn\u2019t her, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t know what it means yet,\u201d Javy said, passing the third mug to Mac. \u201cLike Detective McIntyre said, we\u2019re still investigating. Once we have copies of the calls, we\u2019re going to be chasing down where they came from.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou can do that?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n Mac said, \u201cWe can try. If Terri is still alive out there, we will do everything in our power to get her home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd if she isn\u2019t alive?\u201d Mrs. Reynolds whispered, almost to herself.<\/p>\n \u201cThen we bring her killers to justice,\u201d Mac said firmly. \u201cThat\u2019s what we do.\u201d<\/p>\n Bold words, but two days later, he was feeling a lot less optimistic about the whole affair. Mac scowled at the report in front of him, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with the information contained within.<\/p>\n The techs had taken copies of all four messages off the various cell phones and analyzed them. They hadn\u2019t been able to trace the calls, but they had confirmed that the voice on the messages matched the voice on the message the cell phone company had forwarded over from Terri Reynolds\u2019 old phone.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a heavy look,\u201d Javy said, putting a cup of coffee in front of his partner. \u201cWhat did that paper ever do to you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMade our lives a whole hell of a lot more difficult,\u201d Mac told him, tossing the offending file to Javy. \u201cSomehow, Terri Reynolds is calling her friends and leaving voicemail messages. And this is now our case, because both of the detectives who were investigating it have moved on.\u201d<\/p>\n Javy slid into his chair, sipping his coffee and reading the report. \u201cI think I\u2019m dead?\u201d he said. \u201cWhat kind of message is that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI have no idea,\u201d Mac said. \u201cA pretty sick one, if it\u2019s a joke.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf?\u201d Javy flipped the edge of the paper down to look over at his partner. \u201cIt has to be a joke.\u201d He faltered a little at the look on Mac\u2019s face. \u201cIt does have to be a joke, right? I mean, what else could it be? A ghost? Come on. What else could it be?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know, Javy,\u201d Mac said, picking up his own cup of coffee. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t know if I want to find out.\u201d<\/p>\n <><><\/p>\n They aren\u2019t going to call.<\/em><\/p>\n Carmen Reynolds sat on the couch in her living room, pretending to watch the television. The phone lay on the cushion next to her, silent, accusing.<\/p>\n Just like it had that night.<\/p>\n The television droned on, some stupid sitcom with a stupid family who had stupid problems. She couldn\u2019t watch anything but these now – Terri had loved the crime dramas, had wanted to be a lawyer, and they had enjoyed watching them together every night. Now, the crime dramas were horrific reminders of her own situation. The laugh tracks on the comedies hurt, of course, but not as much as the bodies.<\/p>\n She couldn\u2019t handle even thinking of bodies.<\/p>\n When the phone rang, breaking through the laugh track on the television, Carmen jumped. She stared at the receiver next to her as it rang again.<\/p>\n On the third ring, she managed to pick it up.<\/p>\n \u201cHello?\u201d she said, the word sticking in her throat, a whisper she barely heard herself. She tried again, louder. \u201cHello?\u201d<\/p>\n The line was full of static, audio snow that filled her ears.<\/p>\n \u201cHello?\u201d Carmen repeated. \u201cIs anyone there?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n That single word, breaking through the static, made her clutch at the phone. \u201cTerri? Terri, baby, where are you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n Carmen wept into the phone as she heard the familiar voice. \u201cYes, baby, it\u2019s me, it\u2019s Mom. Where are you, baby?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think I\u2019m dead, Mom!\u201d<\/p>\n And then the static surged back, drowning out Terri\u2019s voice, forcing Carmen to hold the receiver away from her head. When she was able to put the phone back to her ear, all she heard was a dial tone.<\/p>\n <><><\/p>\n One week later\u2026<\/p>\n \u201cNo. More. Bars.\u201d<\/p>\n Lance Robinett stomped back down the driveway to the now-empty van, wishing for boots rather than the soft shoes he currently wore. Soft soles were great for ghost hunting, but they just didn\u2019t have the same satisfying sound slapping against the asphalt.<\/p>\n The van doors, however, slammed quite nicely. Lance took out the rest of his frustration over how the evening had turned out by slamming the doors a few more times than necessary before he stomped back into the house.<\/p>\n Luckily, neither of his roommates were home: it was Saturday night, after all, and they were probably out partying. For once, he wished he was with them.<\/p>\n He decided to leave the pile of equipment where it was until the next morning. None of them actually ate at the dining room table anyways. It was the community dump site, and neither of his roommates would care if it was covered with tripods, digital recorders and large black cases. What was more, they also wouldn\u2019t touch them.<\/p>\n I\u2019ll clean it up tomorrow<\/em>, he promised himself. It\u2019s not like we have any actual evidence to analyze. Stupid bar.<\/em><\/p>\n And that was the worst, most aggravating part of the whole damn debacle. According to the case file, the building was bordered by a graveyard, and it had once been a funeral home. The evidence could have been amazing. Lance and the rest of the team had been eager to investigate.<\/p>\n Until they got there, and realized that the owner had basically set up a party to publicize the bar. With Lance and his team as the entertainment.<\/p>\n Just remembering that brought his anger back up to the surface. Turning away from the pile of equipment, Lance stalked to the fridge, grabbed a random bottle of beer and headed to his own bedroom. The best way to wipe the taste of a bad investigation, he\u2019d found, was to start planning the next one.<\/p>\n And there was always a next one.<\/p>\n \u201cBut no more bars,\u201d he reminded himself, as he waited for the computer to boot up. \u201cNo more bars, ever.\u201d<\/p>\n There were a couple of new cases in the group email box, and he flipped through them, mentally classifying them in regards to their seriousness and adding notes before he sent them off to the group\u2019s case manager, Amari. Two of them he flagged as serious, as they were households with kids. Cases involving kids always jumped to the top of their list – no one wanted kids to be bothered by ghosts. Besides, kids often meant really good evidence.<\/p>\n One got a \u201cSeriously?\u201d put on top of it, and he knew Amari would know why. It was pathetically obvious that the guy had been watching all the stupid ghost story shows on TV – Lance could almost quote all the shows he had drawn his \u201cexperiences\u201d from. Amari would know how to let the guy down the right way.<\/p>\n The other two were businesses – neither one a bar, he was happy to note – and he sent them along with his suggestions to her. One was a theater, which intrigued him. They had never investigated a theater before. The other was a hair salon. Those were always fun – mirrors everywhere.<\/p>\n Once he\u2019d sent everything to Amari, Lance checked the calendar, and then signed off the computer. The beer was gone, and he was tired.<\/p>\n The phone woke him the next morning. He groaned and decided to let the answering machine take it. What the hell time is it anyways? He squinted at the clock, which refused to come into focus. It\u2019s too damn early for anything good. It\u2019s probably one of Keith\u2019s exes calling up to give him hell,<\/em> he thought. It never failed to amaze him how\u2026prolific his roommate was. And how clueless the man was about what a woman really wanted.<\/p>\n The answering machine finally picked up on the fourth ring. \u201cHi, you\u2019ve reached 856-9925. Please leave a message and we\u2019ll get back to you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHello?\u201d The voice that came out of the machine made Lance raise his head from the pillow. It was an older woman. An older woman who was in a lot of pain. \u201cMy name is Carmen Reynolds. I was told someone at this number could help me. I think my house is haunted.\u201d<\/p>\n Lance reached out and grabbed the phone before she hung up. \u201cMrs. Reynolds? This is Lance Robinett, I\u2019m the head of Lake Knight Paranormal. We do investigate haunted houses. What\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Mr. Robinett, please, can you help me?\u201d She was all but sobbing into the phone.<\/p>\n \u201cWe can, Mrs. Reynolds, we definitely can help you.\u201d Lance slid out of his bed and into the desk chair in one smooth motion, pulling a notepad towards him. \u201cTell me what\u2019s going on.\u201d<\/p>\n And as she told him, spilling out the story between breaths that caught in her throat, Lance\u2019s pen flew across the page. He couldn\u2019t believe what he was hearing, and yet there was no way the crying woman on the phone was lying.<\/p>\n When she was done, reduced to a few sniffling tears, he stared at the page in wonder.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sure you can help me, Mr. Robinett?\u201d Her question was barely audible.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re going to do our best,\u201d Lance said to her. \u201cLet me get my team together, and we\u2019ll see how quickly we can come out there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you.\u201d She sniffed. \u201cCan you come out today? I don\u2019t know if I can take another night with the activity that has been going on here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet me see what I can do.\u201d<\/p>\n Once he had hung up the phone, Lance sat back and reread his notes. Then he picked up the phone again, and dialed a number.<\/p>\n \u201cThis had better be good.\u201d Her voice was thick with sleep.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Amari, my love, this is quite the best I have ever seen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTell me.\u201d The sleep was gone, replaced with interest.<\/p>\n He read her the notes, his excitement growing as he did so. \u201cThis is big, Amari,\u201d he said at the end of the recital. \u201cIf this woman is for real, and trust me, I think she is, then this house is a gold mine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt sounds too good to be true, Lance,\u201d Amari said. \u201cAre you sure you just aren\u2019t trying to wash last night\u2019s experience out?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I promise,\u201d Lance said. \u201cShe\u2019s not that far away.\u201d He hesitated. \u201cShe wants us to come out today. What are your plans?\u201d<\/p>\n Amari sighed. \u201cNothing,\u201d she admitted. \u201cGive me enough time to shower.\u201d<\/p>\n <><><\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s on the schedule for tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n Sapphire Pendragon didn\u2019t open her eyes as she waited for the answer; the cool glass of the limo\u2019s window felt heavenly against her pounding head. It had been another long day of meetings, so very many meetings, and she hoped that the only thing she had left to do tonight was sink into a bathtub, preferably with a stiff drink. From how long her personal assistant was taking to respond, however, that was probably not the case.<\/p>\n \u201cSpill it,\u201d she said finally. \u201cWhat other torture do you have planned for me, Danielle?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI hadn\u2019t, actually,\u201d Danielle admitted. \u201cBut your grandfather\u2019s secretary called while you were in your last meeting, and said he is in town with your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course he is.\u201d Sapph\u2019s hand dropped down to caress the head of the small dog currently sleeping in her lap. Bear rumbled a little but didn\u2019t move much. \u201cGod forbid he let me actually do the job he sent me to do on my own. What does he want? And why my mother?\u201d She had an idea, but hoped she was wrong.<\/p>\n \u201cDinner at 7 pm at the Renaissance Room,\u201d Danielle said.<\/p>\n Sapph squinted at her wristwatch. \u201cFamily dinner. Lovely. Did you pack me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSimple black cocktail dress and wrap have been pressed and are hanging in your hotel room.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRemind me to give you a raise,\u201d Sapph said gratefully. She looked over at her bodyguard. \u201cDid you bring your tux, Scottie?\u201d<\/p>\n He nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cGood. Then he can\u2019t carp about our appearance.\u201d She settled back against the seat, relieved. \u201cWere there any other dictates, Danielle?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, just to be there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank god,\u201d Sapph muttered. \u201cTalk to you later, Danielle.\u201d She hung up the call and sighed. \u201cWhat did I do to deserve this?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s your grandfather.\u201d Scottie\u2019s warm voice didn\u2019t soothe her temper. \u201cIt\u2019s not like he doesn\u2019t drop in regularly. That\u2019s why Danielle knew to send your clothes to be pressed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBah.\u201d The fact that the big black man was right didn\u2019t make it any less palatable. \u201cWake me when we get to the hotel.\u201d<\/p>\n At 7:05 pm, she walked into the private dining room at the Renaissance Room, Scottie trailing respectfully behind her. Her black sheath cocktail dress clung to her slender frame, but didn\u2019t keep the air conditioning from going right through her, so she pulled the matching wrap tighter around her shoulders.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re late.\u201d<\/p>\n The words were delivered in the flat, spare tone she heard every day of her life. Her grandfather didn\u2019t even look up from the soup bowl in front of him.<\/p>\n \u201cThere was traffic,\u201d Sapph said, moving towards the seat left for her, nodding to her mother, who smiled at her but didn\u2019t say anything. \u201cI apologize.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you hadn\u2019t stopped along the way, you wouldn\u2019t have been late.\u201d<\/p>\n She bit the inside of her cheek before she responded. \u201cYou\u2019re right, Grandfather. I shouldn\u2019t have had the limo pull over to let the ambulance go by after the car accident in front of us. I\u2019ll reprimand the driver when I get downstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be impertinent.\u201d Thomas Pendragon finally looked up at her. \u201cYou\u2019ve lost more weight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve kept me busy.\u201d She continued to stand in front of the chair, waiting. One did not sit at a Pendragon table until the patriarch said so, especially if one was late.<\/p>\n \u201cSit.\u201d<\/p>\n She dropped gracefully into the chair, and handed Bear to Scottie. A silent waiter came in with her soup bowl – rather than the clear broth she could see her mother and grandfather eating, her bowl was filled with baked potato soup, and she scowled down at it.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t do that,\u201d her grandfather said sharply. \u201cI won\u2019t have the papers saying you\u2019re having eating issues.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAs if they would,\u201d Sapph said, stung. \u201cOther than the tabloids, and who cares what they say? I just have no time to eat anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAndrew did, obviously.\u201d<\/p>\n Her spoon clattered against the side of her dish. \u201cThe tabloids had nothing to do with our break-up.\u201d<\/p>\n Thomas sniffed. \u201cYou can continue to believe that, if you want, but we all know the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n Yes, that he couldn\u2019t stand the thought of living under your thumb,<\/em> Sapph thought rebelliously. The memories of her final conversation with the handsome young lawyer everyone had thought she would marry had been shoved into a dark hole in her mind, and she refused to let the door open now. It was just too humiliating.<\/p>\n Mostly because everything Andrew had said was true. Up to and including the way her grandfather ran her life.<\/p>\n So she turned to her mother instead. \u201cHow\u2019s the new movie going, Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n Marlo Pendragon smiled at her. The actress was an older, more sophisticated version of her daughter: her dark blonde hair long instead of short, held back by a simple gold clip to fall into waves down her back, glowing against the dark blue silk dress she wore. \u201cWell! Leo\u2019s still looking for the perfect place to shoot some of the scenes, but he\u2019s optimistic he\u2019ll find it soon.\u201d<\/p>\n Thomas snorted. \u201cDirectors. I don\u2019t understand why he didn\u2019t want to use the beach house I offered him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause it wasn\u2019t the right venue, Father.\u201d Marlo winked at Sapph, who trained her eyes back on her soup bowl.<\/p>\n A strident beeping interrupted them, and Thomas turned to his own bodyguard, who handed over a black phone. He frowned at the screen and then answered, \u201cThis had better be important, Sam.\u201d<\/p>\n Sapph sighed and pushed her bowl away, half-trying to remember which office had a Sam in charge of it. There were so many offices, she couldn\u2019t keep them straight most of the time. Korea? No, too late for that. Seattle, maybe? Not that it mattered. There was a list somewhere.<\/p>\n Thomas said, \u201cNo, Sam, I don\u2019t think you needed to call me to ask that. If you can\u2019t be trusted to make simple decisions on your own, perhaps this job is a bit too much for you.\u201d Silence for a few moments, and then he said, \u201cThat sounds like an excellent idea. I look forward to having that on my desk in two hours.\u201d He clicked the phone off and handed it to the bodyguard, who handed him another phone. He dialed a number and said, \u201cChristine, I need you to run surveillance on Sam Cantor for the next few days. I don\u2019t know that I trust him right now.\u201d Another pause. \u201cI don\u2019t care about stress. This is a stressful life. I need him to do his job.\u201d<\/p>\n Sapph rolled her eyes. That\u2019s my grandfather, all heart.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t care, Christine. Take care of it.\u201d Thomas snapped the phone off and handed it back to the silent man behind him, and then scowled at his granddaughter. \u201cYou didn\u2019t finish your soup.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not fond of baked potato soup,\u201d Sapph said. \u201cBesides, I\u2019m sure you ordered me filet mignon or something. I\u2019ll eat that.\u201d<\/p>\n Their eyes met, and Sapph steeled herself not to look away first. The way she always did.<\/p>\n The way she did now, after about a minute.<\/p>\n Thomas snorted and waved the waiter in. \u201cTake these. We\u2019ll have the main course now.\u201d<\/p>\n The filet mignon, bathed in a rich mushroom sauce, was wonderful, as were the honey-glazed carrots and baked potato that came with it. Sapph didn\u2019t have to force herself to eat it all. Despite the current wave of tabloid accusations, she had no eating problems – she was just usually so busy putting out fires for her grandfather that she didn\u2019t eat on a regular schedule. Once again, she made herself a mental note to start eating regularly.<\/p>\n For about twenty minutes, the only sounds in the room were the clink of silverware on plates. Her grandfather demanded silence as he enjoyed his meals, and Sapph found it preferable to listening to him harp over the business or her image or whatever. There were no \u201cconversations\u201d held in her grandfather\u2019s presence that he didn\u2019t dominate.<\/p>\n Then the faint strains of a single violin drifted through the room, and she stiffened. Scottie pulled her phone out as she turned around, very aware of her grandfather\u2019s eyes on her.<\/p>\n \u201cNo business at the dinner table,\u201d Thomas snapped.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s Malcolm,\u201d Scottie said at the same time. He looked at Sapph, who raised her chin and extended her hand for the phone. \u201cIt won\u2019t take long,\u201d she said. \u201cBesides, he doesn\u2019t often call this late at night. It must be important.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe are eating,\u201d Thomas said. \u201cYou can call him later.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe were eating when your call came through too,\u201d Sapph snapped back, standing up and putting her napkin on the table. \u201cI am taking this now.\u201d And she turned and walked to the back of the room, wondering where that had come from. \u201cHello, Malcolm. How can I help you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh, Sapph, so good to hear from you!\u201d Dr. Malcolm Robinett\u2019s voice bubbled from the phone, warming her against the icy glare from her grandfather. \u201cI hope I\u2019m not interrupting anything.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, not at all,\u201d Sapph said, turning back around so she could see her grandfather\u2019s face. \u201cDinner with the family.\u201d Marlo waved. \u201cMom says hi.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTell her I send my love!\u201d Malcolm said, and Sapph dutifully repeated that. \u201cIt\u2019s been too long since I\u2019ve seen her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWould you like me to hand over the phone, so you can continue to flirt with her?\u201d Sapph asked, watching her mother blush and her grandfather fume. Dangerous ground, but she was somehow enjoying it.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I\u2019ll call her later to do that. I need to talk to you.\u201d<\/p>\n The switch in his voice, from jovial to serious, intrigued her. \u201cAbout what? Do you have another experiment you want to try?\u201d She enjoyed his experiments. Among other things, it got her time away from her grandfather\u2019s jobs.<\/p>\n \u201cNot exactly.\u201d Malcolm hesitated, and Sapph\u2019s eyebrows went up. \u201cHave I ever mentioned my nephew to you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour nephew?\u201d Sapph frowned, trying to remember. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe called me today,\u201d Malcolm said. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t usually call when it isn\u2019t a holiday, so that was the first odd part. And he asked me if there was a reliable psychic I knew that I could recommend to help him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour nephew needs a psychic?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cApparently. He\u2019s a ghost hunter, but he doesn\u2019t usually use psychics.\u201d Malcolm paused again. \u201cIn fact, he spent all of last Christmas trying to convince me psychics were fakes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo why did he call you about a psychic?\u201d Sapph\u2019s head was beginning to ache again, and it wasn\u2019t just her grandfather\u2019s scowl.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know. He said something about this being a special case. Something very odd must have happened to him – he said he needed help. He\u2019s never asked for help before.\u201d Malcolm took a deep breath. \u201cI think you have the talent to help him, Sapph. Do you have the time?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat depends,\u201d she hedged. \u201cWhat is he looking for?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe said it\u2019s a mother with a missing daughter, who seems to be haunting her. It\u2019s a small town in New Hampshire – Glassdon. It shouldn\u2019t take more than two or three days tops.\u201d Malcolm took another deep breath, and Sapph wondered if he was going to hyperventilate on her. \u201cThis could be what we were talking about after the last experiment, Sapph. You were wanting to know what your gift could be used for. From what Lance is saying, this woman is desperate, and worried. You could help settle her mind, get her in touch with her lost daughter. Give her peace.\u201d<\/p>\n Give her peace.<\/em> Those words resonated through her, cutting off her breath for a moment, and the entire world changed. Give her peace.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cGive me his number,\u201d she said, holding out a hand to Scottie. He handed her a small notepad and a pen, and she scribbled down the number Malcolm gave her. \u201cI\u2019ll call him as soon as I get back to the hotel.\u201d Then she paused. \u201cYou didn\u2019t give him any information on me, did you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, not yet.\u201d Malcolm chuckled. \u201cI wasn\u2019t sure you\u2019d be able to get away.\u201d<\/p>\n Give her peace.<\/em> Sapph turned back and met her grandfather\u2019s furious eyes. \u201cI\u2019m done with what my grandfather needed, and I\u2019ve got some time off coming up. I\u2019d love to meet your ghost hunter nephew, Malcolm. I think it will be good for me.\u201d She smiled sweetly. \u201cGive me something to take my mind off\u2026things.\u201d<\/p>\n Thomas\u2019 face was the color of his steak, and his fingers clenched his fork like a crucifix.<\/p>\n Sapph said goodbye to Malcolm and handed the phone, notebook and pen back to Scottie, then retook her seat. \u201cYes, Grandfather?\u201d she said, looking at him. \u201cWas there something else?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know how I feel about business calls at dinner,\u201d he said, finally nodding at the waiter. He didn\u2019t put the fork down, though.<\/p>\n \u201cThen maybe you should have told Sam to call later,\u201d Sapph said coolly. \u201cAnd I\u2019m sure you could have called Christine afterwards.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you telling me how to act, young woman?\u201d Thomas said, in a tone of voice that normally made her quail. Malcolm\u2019s words were still reverberating within her, though, and Sapph, instead of shrinking back, raised her chin.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m telling you that I\u2019m tired of being held to a double standard.\u201d<\/p>\n Thomas drew in a deep breath, and Sapph, knowing what was coming next, decided to head it off at the pass. She stood up and tossed her napkin on the table. \u201cI\u2019m tired, and I\u2019m going back to the hotel,\u201d she announced, and turned to her mother. Giving her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, she murmured, \u201cSorry to leave you with this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry about it,\u201d Marlo murmured back, squeezing her. \u201cI\u2019m used to it. Go. And good for you for standing up to him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSit down,\u201d Thomas ordered. \u201cWe aren\u2019t done with dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI am,\u201d Sapph said. \u201cAnd I\u2019m taking the next week off.\u201d She looked at him. \u201cI have the time.\u201d And then, before he could say anything else, she turned on her heel and walked slowly out of the room.<\/p>\n \u201cCome back here! We aren\u2019t finished!\u201d he shouted.<\/p>\n She didn\u2019t answer. Nor did she stop.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <><><\/p>\n Intrigued? \u00a0Check out the remainder on Kindle – more formats coming soon!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It’s finally here! \u00a0Into Thin Air is finally available on Kindle! \u00a0And you can get it here! But maybe you’re not sure. \u00a0Maybe you don’t know if you’ll be interested in an odd ghost story. \u00a0Maybe you’d like to try it out. Sure. \u00a0Have Chapter One. \u00a0On me: Chapter One Beginnings \u201cBut Detective!\u201d The …<\/p>\n