Free GHOST GAL: The Wild Hunt by Bobby Nash Page B

workmiracles in her culinary creations without meat. And to think that she does it just for me.” The elder Holzer gave a slight grimace as he leaned forward in attentiveness to his daughter.
    “You okay?” she asked, noting the wince as he sat down and again as he leaned forward.
    “I’m fine.”
    “Your back bothering you again?”
    “Just a twinge,” he lied.
    “Did you sleep at your desk again?” she asked.
    “Of course not,” he harrumphed and wagged a finger in her direction. “You know, you sound more and more like your mother every day.”
    “Because of my loving concern?”
    “I was thinking more because of your nagging.” He said it with a smile as he resumed his reading from the oversized history text open on the desk. He often complained that the women in his life were trying to mother hen him to death at times. Alexandra suspected that he actually enjoyed the added attention, but of course, his male pride wouldn’t allow him to ever admit it.
    “I brought you a present,” Alexandra said, changing the subject.
    Hans raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
    She handed over the duffel.
    “What have we here?”
    “Open it,” she told him.
    Not one to say no to his daughter, Hans Holzer obliged and peered into the open duffel. “What have you brought me, Shura?” he asked as he pulled a frosted jar from the bag and held it in his lap. Ever the professor, he turned it around, carefully tracing the lines of blended colors. “It’s smooth,” he said. “Tempered glass?”
    Alexandra shrugged.
    “It’s beautiful, my dear, but art curios are more your mother’s forte than mine, as you know. Perhaps you should show it to her?”
    “No. This one is all yours,” Alexandra said. “I’m guessing you’ve never seen one of these before, huh?”
    “A decorative glass jar?” he huffed. “Alexandra, I may be, as you called me, an absent-minded professor, from time to time, but I have visited a museum or two. This is not the first piece of glassware I’ve seen. It’s not even one of the most interesting.”
    “Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that one.”
    He moved in for a closer look. “You’re obviously dying to tell me so out with it, girl. What is so special about this jar?”
    “It traps ghosts.”
    “I beg your pardon.”
    Alexandra tried not to laugh at her father’s bemused expression.
    She failed.
    He held up the jar by the neck. “Are you telling me that this is an actual containment vessel?”
    With a nod and an excited grin, she confirmed it.
    “Fascinating.”
    “I had much the same thought,” she said.
    “I’ve heard stories, of course, that things like this existed, but I never expected to see one, much less hold one in my hands. This is incredible.”
    “Joshua and I found forty of them today.” She said it without fanfare, but her father nearly dropped the one he was studying when she said it. The look on his face was priceless.
    “Forty?” he echoed. “Where? Where were they hidden?”
    “In an abandoned church in the city. One of the… uh, occupants… yeah, let’s call them occupants, escaped from his jar and caused a bit of a ruckus. It wasn’t easy, but Joshua and I managed to get him back in his jar and corked it up.”
    Now she had his full attention.
    “You took a job?”
    “I did.”
    “Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped.” He sounded sad that he missed out on the adventure.
    “Joshua and I handled it.”
    “And you actually used the vessel?”
    “We did.”
    “How does it work?”
    She shook her head and shrugged. “No idea. It just sort of… happened.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Once the water spirit we were chasing got close to it, the jar just sucked it back inside like a vacuum cleaner or something.”
    “Fascinating.”
    Alexandra’s grin returned. “You already said that.”
    “I may say it a few more times,” he deadpanned.
    “I don’t blame you, Poppa.”
    “Is it still in here?” Hans asked, setting the vessel