Teaser Tuesday - The Prophet and the Snow Angel

 “La Maison de Glace,” Aria walked in stride with Stein to the French winery, his French was a little sluggish but not offensive. 

“We go in, have a little chat, and see what he knows,” Aria scanned the busy Paris street corner unconsciously looking for anything suspicious and to count the amount of collateral damage should the meeting go south.

“There is no way he is going to give us any information voluntarily,” Stein loosened his shoulders as if readying for battle.

“Agreed, but we have to get in the door,” Aria stood at the door and Stein opened it. 

“After you.” He motioned Aria in.

Aria expected a dark smoke-filled hole in the wall but instead discovered a well-lit tastefully decorated business. A mixture of aged stone and wooden accents adorned the walls, the vaulted ceiling inlet with glass panes added air and natural light to the spacious area. Small tables of various sizes surrounded by racks of wine behind glass cases covered in vines and greenery were a sight to behold. She hated to admit it, but she would’ve enjoyed a night out at La Maison de Glace.

Stein spoke to one of the waitstaff who then disappeared.

“Pretty nice.” Stein put his hands in his pockets surveying the room.

“Gorgeous.” Aria wasn’t sure how to feel.  Enamored by the delicious décor, or revolted by the blood money used to fund it.

The waiter returned and motioned for them to follow. They followed him to the back of the building to a large cherry wood door. He opened it, and they entered. “M. Kardif sera avec vous dans un instant. S'il vous plait, attendez ici.”
“Je vous remercie,” Aria smiled politely, surveying the room adorned with bottles of wine and an impressive collection of art. The rug beneath their feet she guessed was Persian, valued at a few million dollars. “The business is doing well.”

“Apparently,” Stein agreed also taking in the room, he seemed to be focused on the open laptop sitting on the desk.

The door opened, and Jean-Paul Krandif entered the room. She’d seen pictures of him before, a thin, wiry man in a linen shirt and khaki pants.

“Good afternoon, Jean-Paul Krandif. How can I help you?”

“We apologize for taking time out of your busy day. My name is Chris

Schoenfelder, and this is my associate Lisa Milam. Your establishment is very beautiful.” Stein introduced himself and Aria with their fake names.

“Thank you, our supporters are very generous, and we have established ourselves as the premiere établissement vinicole of Paris. The tourists love us. Please call me Jean,” the man leaned against the desk.

“Given your reputation and expansive collection du vin from around the world, I just wanted some insight about the procurement of some rather rare more robust vintages.” Stein hinted.

“There is an entire network of dealers and well-known suppliers. Why come to me?” Krandif a plastic smile widening his face. “What business are you in again?”

“Recovery, and we were told you are the guy who gets things done,” Stein flashed him an equally wide smile.

“How can I help?” Krandif shifted in discomfort, grasping the edge of the desk tightly.

“Well, what we wanna know is, if I wanted to procure and transport canisters of a potentially lethal bioweapon from somewhere, let's say Germany, would you be the guy to talk to?” Stein’s gaze locked with Krandif. Aria watched Krandif’s reaction closely. He blinked, and his bald head started to perspire. “Would you be that guy?” Stein voiced again, tilting his head.

“No, I'm afraid not,” Krandif moved off the desk and toward the door. “I believe our meeting is over.”

Stein followed, “all right, thank you for...wait I have a quick question. Do you like Hummers?”

Oh, good lord – Aria’s heart skipped a beat. She knew what was going to happen next and moved toward the back of the room.

“Range Rovers, Land cruisers?” Stein stepped into Krandif’s line of escape.
“Mr. Schoenfelder, will you leave the room?” Krandif balled his fists and straightened his shoulders.

“No!” Stein grabbed the back of Krandif’s head, thrusting it against the edge of the wooden door. “Should've taken the car, Jean!” Aria moved behind the desk to the computer.

“You broke my nose!” Krandif cried out holding his nose.

Stein pulled his weapon from the back of his pants, pointing it at Krandif’s head, “not a word.” Aria wrapped up the laptop, cable, and started searching the desk. “I won't shoot you unless I have to, Jean. Don’t make me shoot you because  I’ll feel bad about it. Sit down!” Aria pulled the duct tape out of her bag, tossing it to Stein. Stein proceeded to bind Krandif to the chair. Aria pulled every piece of paper and notebook out of the desk, shoving it into her bag. Then she started on the bookshelf.

“Two nights ago, you had a German visitor, Geoff Vlakin. Why was he here?” The intensity of Steins voice made Aria hesitate for and instant. Maybe I have been out of the field for too long

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we have guests—” Krandif started, and Stein backhanded him with the gun in his hand. “Understand, it is not my intent to disrupt this little operation you’ve got going on here, Jean. I need to know about Vlakin. Why he was here and what is the location of the canisters he stole.”

“I don’t—”

“Come on, Jean,” Stein hit the man’s face again. “I can do this all day. Just tell me what I need to know, and we can be on our merry way.”

Aria yanked the books off the shelves uncovering a hard drive and a camera, she quickly detached and shoved them into her bag, “Stein, we need to go.”
He glanced at her before hitting Krandif again, this time pointing his gun at the man’s groin, “Talk to me Jean, or you will be spending Christmas getting reconstructive plastic surgery that may or may not restore your manhood.”

“Fine!” Krandif grunted. “The man—”

“Vlakin.”

“Yes, Vlakin. He asked me to add a box to my shipment. It seemed harmless,” Krandif spat.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Vlakin put the package on one of the trucks. I didn’t ask which one.”

“Where is the shipment going?”

“Downtown Paris.”

“When?”

“Today,” Stein rolled his eyes.

“Where are the deliveries for today?” Krandif hesitated, and Stein shot him in the knee. Krandif screamed. “Come on, Jean, you’re making this way too hard.”
“Alright, alright!” Krandif bellowed between grunts of pain. “There are three, I de Flore, Les Deux Magots, and Le Secret.” Aria gathered up her bag and moved to the door.

Stein ripped off another piece of tape using it to cover Krandif’s mouth, “thank you for your cooperation. It’s been a pleasure.” Stein met her at the door. “Let’s go.”


Aria followed Stein out of The Ice House without incident. Aria immediately dialed her phone as they dashed to the car. “Wes, we have three potential targets—”

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Teaser Tuesday - Finders (Ghost Hunting Book One)

Blurb

When an expert Demonologist meets a Reality Show Producer on the Ghost Hunting Show Finders, sparks of true love fly so brightly even the Devil takes notice.

Demonologist Luke Melloy has seen the face of pure evil. He's fought it and sent it back to hell. It's what he does. To Claire Westin, ghosts and demons are just great television and good for ratings. When she’s faced with the truth Luke has seen, her reality is turned upside down as the two are swept into dire straits moments after they meet. Desire sparks between the unlikely pair, throwing their hearts into chaos with a love neither of them expected nor wanted.

When the Demon targets an unsuspecting Claire with his wrath, Luke finds his focus split between his oath to God and the awakening of his heart. Together, can they face the ancient evil and defeat it, or will they lose everything?

Excerpt

On every investigation, big or small, Grant Henley’s priority was always the safety of his team. Splitting the central team into mini-teams posed the best option. If anything happened on any of the walks, an experienced team member would be present to handle the situation. While he hand-picked and trusted every member of his team, he also knew in the face of pure evil or peril, people could freeze, loose reason, and panic. It was only human nature. He needed to anticipate all the possibilities.

He would not admit aloud to the team, but the investigation of Crestwater Church would most likely be one of the most intense and riskiest endeavors many of them would ever experience.

“What have we got?” Grant asked, entering the open door on the opposite side of the altar from where he’d just been with Luke.

“Dust, and lots of it,” Craig replied, standing triumphant and placing the bolt cutters against the wall. Finders’ investigators Brian, Glen, and Maggie were standing with him, having assisted in the excavation.

“Let’s take a look,” Grant said, turning on his flashlight again and leading the way into the area. He’d expected a wooden floor but found it to be solid rock. Good news meant they wouldn’t have to worry about falling through any holes in an old weakening wooden floor.

They ventured inside, and the dust began to settle, revealing the scant contents of the room. Walking around, they found a few small single beds, broken empty dressers, and a cracked mirror on the far wall. Grant took a few steps toward the far wall and stopped. He raised his hand in a hold position, signaling for everyone to stop. Listening, he waited and heard it again, louder this time, definitely a growl. He swung the flashlight toward the sound and stopped, illuminating a snarling, growling dog. The light flashed red in its eyes. Grant stepped back. “Out, get out. Slowly and quietly leave the room,” he said in a low tone to the rest of the group.

In his peripheral vision, he watched the group of three slowly back out of the room. Keeping eye contact with the still angry animal, he began with a first step back, simultaneously searching for anything he could put between himself and the animal.

The bed to his left was close enough he would be able to skirt it between them, giving him a few seconds to exit the space. Two more steps and he could reach the bed. He felt someone enter the room and saw Luke’s outline slowly approaching him.

“The bed,” Luke said, knowing his plan.

“Yes.”

“Move fast.”

“Not a problem,” Grant replied.

The dog inched forward, getting ready to strike.

“On three,” Luke said, and Grant silently nodded. He mapped out in his mind how this was going to work. “Ready?”

"Yeah, okay…one…"

"Two."

"Three."

Grant lunged for the bed, flipping it on its side and dashed. Without warning, something grabbed his ankle. He fell to his knees, giving the dog a chance to strike.

* * * *

Luke watched the bed flip on its side, creating a temporary barrier. Luke, bolt cutters in hand, watched and waited. Grant fell to his knees. The dog caught Grant’s ankle before Luke could bridge the gap. The dog’s jaws were locked. Grant struggled to get out of the dog’s grip. Luke stepped between the two and swung the cutter at the dog’s head to get the hound to release. Luke hit the dog harder and harder, with no effect and no damage to the animal.

Luke stopped, holding his cross. "In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I stand with the power of the Lord God Almighty to bind Satan and all his evil spirits, demonic forces, satanic powers, principalities, along with all kings and princes of terrors, from the air, water, fire, ground, netherworld, and the evil forces of nature.”

The dog continued to bite down, and Grant bellowed in pain. “Fuck!”

“I take authority over all demonic assignments and functions of destruction sent against me, and I expose all demonic forces as weakened, defeated enemies of Jesus Christ. I stand with the power of the Lord God Almighty to bind together all enemies of Christ present here, all demonic entities under their one and highest authority, and I command these spirits into the abyss to never again return.”

The dog whined in pain, released Grant’s leg, and scurried behind the bed. Luke

grasped Grant’s hand, pulling him to his feet and out the door. They slammed the door shut in unison. Something heavy and strong banged against it, pushing to get out. “What do we do?” Craig asked.

“Find something to wedge against the door,” Luke called. Glen and Brian helped to hold the door closed. The pounding continued. “Get the salt!”

Craig disappeared with Maggie out the door. Luke started a prayer to bless the door. The pushing and banging stopped just as Maggie and Craig reappeared. “Is it over?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Grant said, motioning to Craig for the piece of wood he’d brought to wedge the door closed. Grant took the piece and positioned the wood against the door to keep it closed. “Go get the nail gun out of the truck.”

“You got it, Boss,” Craig said with a nod.

“You have the salt?” Luke asked Maggie. She nodded, face pale. Giving the clear glass jar to him with shaking hands, he gave her a reassuring nod. “We’ve got this. Go take a break.”

Luke opened the salt and poured it against the threshold.

“Not very Christian of you,” Brian commented.

“Actually, for centuries since the advent of Jesus, salt that had been cleansed and sanctified by special exorcisms and prayers was given to catechumens before entering the church for baptism. According to the fifth canon of the Third Council of Carthage in the third century, salt was administered to the catechumens several times a year, a process attested by Augustine of Hippo.”

 Craig returned with the nail gun and handed it to Grant, who started nailing the door.

Luke continued,

“Two specific rites, namely a cross traced on the forehead and a taste of blessed salt, not only marked the entrance into the catechumenate but were repeated regularly. By his own account, Augustine was "blessed regularly with the Sign of the Cross and seasoned with God's salt. Therefore, it is very Christian of me.”

Grant finished securing his side of the door and handed Luke the nail gun. “Early in the sixth century, John the Deacon also explained the use of blessed salt. he said So the mind which is drenched and weakened by the waves of this world is held steady.”

“That is blessed salt?”

“Yep, take it wherever I go,” Luke replied.

“Consider me schooled,” Brian said.

“What happened in there?” Glen asked.

“Stray dog,” Craig quickly said from behind Glen. “It happens in these abandoned buildings. A dog or raccoon gets trapped inside and is relatively pissed off when someone finds it. Greg could use your help in the vestibule. We’ll finish up here.” Glen and Brian nodded and exited the room. “All secure?”

“Yep, let’s get you outside to wrap up that ankle,” Luke said, offering Grant his shoulder.

“Claire’s gonna be pissed,” Grant said.

* * * *

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Teaser Tuesday ~ Dead Air (Backlash Book Two)

The sun had set by the time she arrived in front of Mike’s house. She sat in the darkened car, staring at the familiar front door. Kate absorbed the silence around her and pulled her legs against her chest. She’d thought she would want to go inside and walk through the crime scene, but as she sat there, she didn’t want to move out of the silence. 

Her mind sifted through all of the conversations, jokes, arguments and encouragement she had shared with Mike. He was like a second father to her. He had believed in her when she didn’t even believe in herself. She didn’t want to think about her life without him. He was always the person she relied on to keep her grounded and now he was gone. 

A shadow in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She focused on it and watched as two figures moved up the side of Mike’s house before disappearing around the back. Kate jumped out of her car and followed them while dialing her phone.

“Andy! Someone is breaking into Mike’s house I need back up. I’m going in.” She heard him say something, but disconnected the call before she rounded the back corner of the house. She didn’t hear the crashing of glass or the splintering of wood. If the visitors were inside, they either had a key or they picked the lock. 

She found the back door open and pulled her gun. She listened intently for any noise as she moved silently through the house. She heard footsteps on the second floor. She crept through the kitchen and into the living room. She cleared the office and the main foyer before she headed toward the staircase. She rose to the first step and heard a key in the locked door behind her. She backed up, the doorknob twisted and there was nothing she could do. It opened and, whomever it was, stepped inside. 

Melissa.

Kate saw her, grabbed her in a hug, covering her mouth. Melissa struggled for a moment and then recognized her assailant. Kate spoke with her eyes and Melissa nodded in recognition. 

In the same moment, the crashing of furniture came from upstairs. Kate looked to Melissa. She reached down, pulled Melissa’s shoes off her feet and then grabbed her hand. She pulled her through the foyer to the back door. Kate reached for the handle when they both heard the thudding of heavy footsteps descending the stairs. Kate waited. The footfalls reached the bottom of the stairs.  
Kate made her decision. She yanked open the door, pushing Melissa out and followed her. Kate heard the cursing of men behind then. She turned and saw the men raise their weapons. She pushed Melissa to the ground. Two shots fired and she pulled Melissa back to her feet. She led her around the corner of the house and stopped. 

“Go! I’ll hold them off!” 

Kate heard the crunching of approaching footsteps and knew she had to give Melissa time to get away. Where the hell is Andy? She took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the house, her gun raised. “Stop, FBI.” 

The pursuant moved within a foot of her position. He smiled and raised his hands in surrender. 

Kate hesitated, and remembered there were two. She turned. A booted leg hit her arm, knocking the gun out of her hand. She ducked and retaliated with a sweep of the legs, sending the unseen attacker careening to the ground. 

She heard him grunt when he hit the ground and got to her feet. Kate regained her balance, but was punched hard in the chest. She fell. A spike of pain rushed up her back when she met the ground. His heat on top of her, she clawed at his face. She angled her feet in front of her and pushed him away. She saw the gun to her left and rolled toward it. A steel boot crushed her stomach. 

Kate struggled and was unwillingly lifted off the ground. Her arms were pinned behind her back. She faced her opponent and saw the claw mark she’d left imprinted on his face. A wide triumphant smile spread across her face and his eyes blazed unbridled fury at her mocking. He threw his right fist into her jaw, his left into her abdomen. Unable to defend, the blows hit her hard and fast. Her head swam in pain. She tried to burn his face into her mind.

She fought against the strong arms of his partner. She sustained another blow to her stomach and heard a crash. She dropped to the ground. Two shots echoed in the darkness, followed by two thuds. She struggled to reclaim power over her lungs. After a moment of coughing, she managed to lift herself upright. 

“Jesus, are you alright?” 

She felt Andy’s arm around her waist, helping her to her feet. “I’m good.” He walked her across the yard toward the blazing of lights on the street. They reached one of the standard black SUV’s and she leaned against it. Her head ceased to spin and heard him call for a medic. “Melissa!”

 “What?”

“Melissa Reynolds. She’s a friend of Mike’s. She arrived at the house in the middle—”

“Kate, slow down,” he put his hands on her arms. “We met her down the street. Mitchell is getting her statement. What the hell were you doing in there?”
“Nothing…I mean I wasn’t even inside until I saw them going around the back of the house,” she said, her head beginning to throb. “I was sitting in the car and saw them. That’s when I called you.”

“Nighton is going to be pissed.”

“Fuck Nighton, I just gave him two suspects in Mike’s murder,” she replied in between gasps of breath. “He’ll get over it.”


* * * *

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Teaser Tuesday ~ Trust Me (Veiled Deception -Book Two)

Eric sat through a barrage of unneeded attention for a simple flesh wound. After what seemed like forever, the doctors released him. It was early evening when Eric stepped onto the sidewalk. He saw several messages waiting for him and he began to listen to them when Adam pulled up with the car.

He got in and his phone buzzed. He lifted it, seeing Charlie’s name. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Are you on your way?”

“On my way where?”

“Rebecca’s house.”

“What? Why are you at…”

“Eric, it’s…it’s bad.” Eric’s heart dropped. Breathless, he looked to Adam. “I got her out, but she won’t stop shaking. She won’t talk or look at me. It’s like she’s in a trance…”

“What happened?” Eric felt the car accelerate and Adam turned on the emergency lights.

“Someone broke into her house and covered it… Everything is covered in…blood…” Charlie started, his words broken and hesitant. Eric’s mind went to the buckets of blood. “I’ve never seen anything like it, whoever did this…”

“Did you already call the police?”

“Yeah, but they aren’t here yet.”

“Okay, Charlie, you need to listen to me.” He tried to stay focused and compartmentalize the images rushing at him. “Rebecca’s going into shock. Put her in the car and turn on the heat. You need to keep her calm and warm until the police arrive.”


“How far out are you?”
“About half an hour, we’ll get there as soon as we can,” Eric replied before he hung up the phone.

“Black and Whites will be on scene in less than five minutes,” Adam told him. “I called Misty, Lug and a bus. How bad is it?”


“I…it sounds…bad.”

They pulled up alongside three patrol cars parked in front of the house. Jogging to the front door, a uniformed officer burst out of the house. Eric looked to Adam in confusion and the officer proceeded to vomit into the bushes. They stepped across the threshold, seeing pairs of flat foots covering their mouths, standing in awe of the view.

His memory of her house was full of light, comfortable and warm. A chill ran up his back and his stomach lurched in revulsion. Surrounded by dripping crimson and the suffocating odor of iron, the walls were covered in a thick coat of blood.

Eric didn’t remember what color the couch was before, but it was now a deep soaked purple with blood dripping down the sides. Two more officers exited the house and he forced himself to remain steady against the revolting display.

“Where’s Misty?”

“She just pulled up.” Adam stepped out of the house to get their expert.

Beccs…

He tried not to think of Rebecca walking into the house and seeing this for the first time, but there was no way to avoid it. He could almost envision how it happened and his entire body tensed in rage.

“Wow,” he heard a female voice say and saw Misty walk into the house. “This is some seriously fucked up shit.”

“Get to work. I want this bastard rotting in a jail cell sooner rather than later.”

Eric looked to Adam, who nodded in acknowledgement. He stepped out of the house and searched for Charlie. He found him just beyond the driveway talking to Lugow. Eric moved to his brother’s side, his chest quaking in dread. “Charlie.”

“Eric, how…”

“Try and not to think about it, Charlie, it won’t help anything,” Lug offered.

“Yeah.”

“Is Rebecca in the car?” Eric asked.

“Yeah.”

Eric saw her through the window.

“I did everything you said. Lugow tried to talk to her, but…”

“I managed to get her to take couple sips of water, but that’s about it,” Lugow

replied, giving him a look of genuine concern. Eric’s chest tightened even more.

“Addison said there’s a pile up downtown. All the ambulances are tied up so they have no idea when they’ll get here.”

“Do you mind if I try and talk to her?” Eric asked and Lugow nodded his okay. Eric gave his brother a pat on the back and moved around to the passenger’s side of the car. He reached for the handle of the door. He pulled on it, trying not to startle her.

The door opened and despite his efforts, she jumped back in confusion and fear. She saw him and blinked. Her entire body trembled and her arms wrapped around themselves. Eric pulled off his jacket, bundling it around her thin body. “Beccs.” He pulled the jacket tight, before he touched her chin. “Rebecca, can you look at me?”

There was no doubt, she was in shock. The trauma of finding her home violated to such an extreme manner would send anyone cowering in disbelief. She met his gaze, her eyes wide and distant.

“Hey, bright eyes.” His thumb caressed her cheek and her eyes closed at his touch. She trembled again and it took every ounce of strength not to enclose himself around her and take her away. He knew better and pulled himself back into the real world.

“Charlie’s going to take you somewhere safe, where you can rest.” She stared up at him blankly. He decided not to give her a choice of accommodations. He wanted her where he could keep an eye on her.

His free hand rested on the edge of the seat and he felt her icy hand grasp it, her eyes dipping when her breath stuttered in her chest.

“Hey, hey,” Eric responded, holding her hand between his in reassurance. “It’s going to be okay. Charlie isn’t going to leave you. You’ll be safe.”

Her eyes softened a little, but she couldn’t hide the fear and pain still residing behind them. Her grip on his hand tightened.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said while she kept his unfaltering gaze. “I promise.”

Charlie approached the door.

Eric shifted and released her hand. He glanced at his brother, seeing she’d resumed her focus on the world outside the windshield. Eric moved out of the car. His heart ached with every inch he moved, but he closed the passenger door and met Charlie.

“How is she?”

“The same.”

“Can I get her out of here?”

“Yeah, hang on.” He moved past Charlie to Lugow. “Do you have any problems with Charlie getting her out of here? I am going to have him take her to my dad’s. She’ll be safe there.”

“Yeah, no get her out of here so she can rest. We can talk to her tomorrow,” Lug replied.

Eric walked back to Charlie. “Lug said it is fine. Why don’t you take her to Dad’s for the night?”

“Dad’s?”

“Yes, Dad’s,” Eric replied in an even tone. “She needs to rest and with both you and Dad around, she should be able to relax. This guy is still out there and Dad’s house is more secure than your place, no offense.”

“None taken,” Charlie replied, looking to the car in concern. “Did she say anything to you?”

“No,” Eric replied, he wasn’t technically lying to his brother.

“She hasn’t said anything since…”

“Charlie, she’s in shock,” Eric explained again in reassurance. “She needs to stay warm and relaxed. Besides that, just be there. She’ll come around. She needs to process what’s happened.”

“Okay,” Charlie replied with a nod. “You coming to the house after all this?”

“Yeah, after we’re done here.” His stomach twisted. Charlie nodded and moments later, Eric watched the car pull onto the street and disappear into the darkness.

***


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Teaser Tuesday ~ Gemini

Springhill publishing is a place where drama is created and sold for profit. When events surrounding the staff of Springhill start rivaling the dramatic pros of their authors it’s anyone’s guess what is going to happen next and who will be the latest victim.

Teaser ~

Publishing Mogul Aidan Durrant walked through the doors of the top floor at Springhill Publishing. A typical day, he had a slew of meetings, projects, and details all waiting on his review and or completion. Feeing a tingle on the back of his neck, he looked up. It was quiet, too quiet. Almost like the calm before the storm, he dismissed it walking by Chief Editor Leo Cadilli’s office.

"Aidan."

"Yeah?" Aidan turned hearing Leo, his gruff voice typical of a man who spent years yelling over the mechanical presses in a newspaper outlet. The man had been in some part of the publishing business for over four decades. He’d hired Aidan ten years before and mentored him, encouraging and guiding every move he’d made in the publishing world.

"Did you meet with Wailand on the twenty-fourth?" Leo stepped into the hallway.

Aidan couldn’t help but cringe a little at the thought of Literary Agent Derek Wailand, "Uh...the twenty-third?"

"Twenty-fourth."

Aidan straightened his back, searching his mind so some reason Leo was asking. Any meetings with Wailand tended to be memorable if only for the migraine he always endured after. "I don't think so, what was it about?"

"I don't know."

Aidan nodded his head. "Tess would know for sure. What's up?"

"Nothing." Leo put his hands in his pockets, his short stature only adding to his commanding presence. "Just let me know okay?"

"Yeah sure."

"You ready for today?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Good. You pull this off and you can start writing the checks."

"Goals are good.”

“Results are better."

"Yeah."

Leo retreated into his office and Aidan racked his brain for the events of the twenty-fourth. He stopped at the coffee machine pouring himself a cup. He then walked into the office and his executive assistant aka partner in crime, Tess Winters entered the office seconds after him.

"Morning."

"Good morning Aidan," Tess picked up a file from his desk. "You have staff in forty."

"Yes, I do." Aidan looked over the items he'd left scattered across the desk from the night before beginning to feel a little overwhelmed.

"When you get back, we can start on the galleys for the tenth, I've already gone through everything up until then."

"You have?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"This morning." Tess walked out of the office and then back in, Eileen, a marketing staffer followed. Tess focused on her tablet, picked up the phone on his desk dialing a number before turning to Eileen. "Make sure you make it for three. It can't conflict with the GC lockdown."

Aidan scratched the back of his neck, attempting to keep up with the flood of activity. Normally he could ignore the distraction of business but today that was not the case. "What time did you get here?"

"Five." Tess glanced at the phone, handing him the receiver. “Ben Weaver, contract change for the summit.”

“Crap. You can handle him, can’t you?”

“No, I can’t. He’ll only talk to you.” Tess put the phone in his hand and moved to the credenza behind him collecting files.

Aidan started to reach for the hold button but stopped. "Tess, what were you doing here at five am?"

"There is a lot to do before The Summit, I decided to get a head start."

Tess turned and started out of the office. "Tess."

"Weaver.”

“Yeah, I know. He can wait a minute.”

“What?”

"Did I meet with Wailand on the twenty-third?"

"It was the twenty-fourth, and no."

"How do you know that?"

“Aidan, talk to Weaver.”

“Fine, but don’t disappear.” Aidan engaged Ben Weaver the owner of the resort they would be holding Springhill’s Author Summit.

An annual event, it took months of planning and prepping. Seven days of speeches, workshops, dining, networking and schmoozing. It was the best of times and the worst of times.

Twelve minutes later Aidan appeared in the door of his office looking for Tess. He found her balancing a stack of files in her arms and a tablet in her hand. She handed Aidan the tablet and a file off the top of the stack.

"Tess do you have the Summit schedule?" Clara, a new intern asked, taking a stance just behind where she stood.

"Yeah." Tess turned to Clara retrieving the needed file out of the stack of files she held. "Don't schedule anything on the twelfth we’re already booked." Clara took the file and disappeared.

"Maggie, can you crunch the Dennison numbers for me?" Aidan requested to a support staffer two desks form where they stood.

"Sure." Maggie nodded.

Aidan opened the file in his hands. "How do you know I didn't meet with him?"

"That was the day you spilled coffee on your shirt."

"I didn’t..."

"The twenty-fourth was the day after the third meeting with Ronald Lewis and we were here until four am rewriting the summary points for his marketing package." Tess leaned against the doorframe.

"That was hellish, but what does that have to do with the meeting?" Aidan asked as he watched her handle him and the rest of the chaotic office with ease. She was constantly amazing him with her ability to juggle eighteen things while having five different conversations and still manage to keep smiling.

"The next day, after you’d been on conference calls most of the morning, I came into the office to remind you of the meeting with Wailand and found you asleep at your desk. I didn't realize it until too late and you spilled the cup of coffee in your hand down the front of your shirt." Aidan began to recall the incident.

"I wasn't asleep."

"Aidan."

"I was thinking. So why did you cancel the meeting?"

"You told me to." An intern handed Aidan a document.

"This was sent over from Ginger." The intern said.

Aidan looked at it briefly. "Are theses the GC numbers?"

"Yeah." The intern replied as she walked out of the office.

"Why would I do that?"

"What?" Focused on the file in front of her, Tess didn’t bother to look up.

"Tell you to cancel the meeting."

“You have fifteen minutes to get to Leo’s office.”

“I have twenty-three minutes. Answer the question.”

"Because you had coffee down the front of your shirt, you were exhausted and you said, I quote "Anyone who can't tell me why he wants to see me doesn't deserve to see me." Tess moved to her desk. "Kathy, can you please call Bridgett in editing and tell her that we can't do it on the sixth, but we can do it on the eighth." Kathy nodded and walked away. “Thank you!”

"I said that?" Aidan replied looking up in annoyance at her remembering the events so accurately. "I never said that."

Aidan held his breath in realization he was not only picking a fight with Tess who knew everything and was rarely wrong, but he was also calling her a liar.

 Not a good day Durrant.

He waited patiently for the wrath to begin. Today was the deadline for all things Summit and they, aka he, had a big presentation this afternoon.

"Aidan you can believe anything you want in that genius mind of yours, but there were witnesses and it doesn't matter does it? You didn't take the meeting, there were too many other things on the docket, and it got pushed off. Big deal." Tess looked back down at the piece of paper in front of her.

“Aidan” He heard his name seeing AJ, the PR director walking toward him.

"What's up?"

"Have you met with Wailand?"

"On the twenty-third?”

"It was the twenty-fourth but no, since then."

"How do you know I didn't meet with Wailand on the twenty-fourth?"

"I was here when you spilled the coffee down your shirt and canceled the meeting." AJ stopped in front of him. "Have you seen him since?"

"No, why what is going on? Leo asked me about it this morning also. I know he’s the lead for the GDC but what's the deal?"

"I don't know yet, I was hoping you could tell me. There is a buzz going around about him and I want to find out what it is. Can you try and meet with him today?"

"Is he in town?" Knowing the Author Agent resided somewhere in Arizona.

"Aidan Springhill Summit is the single most celebrated week of the publishing year. If something is potentially jeopardizing the success of the event and I don't know what it is first because of your inability to stay awake during normal working hours I will have that self-centered head of yours on a platter in the editorial hall for all of your enemies to spit on!" AJ roared at him.

"Fine, I’ll handle it.” Annoyed and sincerely terrified in the same moment. “Tess!"

"Kathy is getting him on the phone now," Tess passed the office. Aidan watched as AJ winced slightly and groaned under her breath.

"Headache?"

"Shut up, Aidan," AJ rubbed her temple. Tess returned, looking at AJ who was biting her lip. "Do you have any Advil?"

****

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