Free Thin Air by Storm Constantine Page A

still
spent a lot of nights on the town. Sometimes, Samantha would go and
stay with them in the city, have a few nights clubbing. Rhys didn’t
mind. She’d never be unfaithful to him, anyway. Of his own
fidelity, she could never be sure, but didn’t think about that.
There seemed little point. She knew he’d never leave her. Yes,
she’d call the girls. Already, she was planning the weekend
menu.
    Just as Samantha turned away
from the window, she saw movement in the corner of her eye. Someone
was walking towards the front door, and by the time she directed
full attention upon them, had already disappeared from her view -
the kitchen window was on the side of the house.
    ‘Oh, we’ve got a visitor,’ she
said to Betty. In the deepest corner of her heart, Samantha still
harboured the hope that one day the local women might relent,
accept her, and invite her to a coffee morning or something. She
tip-tapped out to the hall, waiting for the door-chimes, an
elaborate orchestra of bells, to ring. But no-one pulled the
wrought iron handle outside. Disconcerted, Samantha stood in the
hall-way, staring at the door. Should she open it before the
visitor rang? It might seem too eager. Eventually, curiosity
overcame her. Someone had walked up to the house, but apparently
they hadn’t intended to visit. What was going on? Slightly annoyed,
Samantha opened the door. She couldn’t see anybody. Perhaps some
cheeky local had been taking a short cut across her land, but it
seemed almost too cheeky to march in full sight along the
front of the house. Anyway, their security man, Terry, wouldn’t
have let that happen. His alertness to intruders bordered on a
sixth sense.
    Samantha took a few steps beyond
the white-columned fascia. The wind was unfriendly, gathering up
the leaves in spiteful fingers. It seemed as if the air was alive
with flying colours. Shivering, Samantha went back into the house
and closed the door.
    Walking back into the kitchen,
she said, ‘No-one at the door. I hope it wasn’t anybody up to no
good.’
    ‘Perhaps it was just the
leaves,’ said Mrs Moran.
    ‘A leaf person!’ shrieked
Samantha, laughing wildly. She didn’t know why; her remark hadn’t
been that funny.
     
    The previous afternoon, Rhys Lorrance
had called Zeke Michaels to deliver a morsel of news. It did not
come blanketed in a sauce, but bare upon its plate. ‘Dex has been
seen, Zeke.’
    This news had been greeted by a
short silence, followed by a nervous laugh, and the remark, ‘Again?
He’s always being seen , Rhys.’
    Lorrance had sighed impatiently.
‘I’m talking about a genuine sighting. Would I trouble myself with
anything less?’
    ‘Well, no, of course not.’
Michaels had cleared his throat. ‘Where’s he been seen, and by
who?’
    ‘That doesn’t matter to you yet.
All you need to know is that the source is reliable.’
    ‘Right, right...’ Michaels
risked a question. ‘But was the sighting in this country?’
    ‘Yes. I would like you to
contact the Samuels woman. You must speak to her in person
tomorrow. Get her to the office as soon as you can after ten.’
    Lorrance had refused to say
anything more on the subject, saying only that he would explain in
more detail when they met, face to face, in the morning.
    Now, at half past nine, Rhys
Lorrance stood very still before Zeke Michaels’ desk. Michaels was
clearly disturbed. Lorrance had little patience with his
underling’s discomfort. Situations only became big problems if you
believed them to be so. ‘What time is the woman arriving?’ Lorrance
asked.
    Michaels looked at his watch.
‘In about an hour, like you wanted. How do you want me to handle
it?’
    Lorrance sniffed thoughtfully.
‘Well, I consider it likely Dex will have contacted her, but we
can’t be sure. I suggest you try to shock her into saying
something. Get a reaction. If he hasn’t been in touch with her yet,
he might well do so very soon.’
    Michaels grimaced. ‘Why should
he? He just