CHAPTER ONE
December 18th
Gwynn Austin clenched the arms of her aisle seat, her knuckles white and her breath locked in her lungs as the airplane finally touched down in Edinburgh.
God, she hated flying. She barely made it through short trips across the US without being sedated or drinking heavily.
But the message from her father had changed everything.
Gwynn let out her breath as the plane taxied down the runway to the terminal. She was starving and nauseated at the same time. It had taken all she had not to get sick on the plane, so eating was out of the question.
As the plane stopped at the terminal, however, she was ravenous and couldn't get off the plane fast enough. And wouldn't you know, there was a man two rows in front of her who wanted to look through his carry-on and hold up the rest of the plane?
Gwynn wanted to shove the guy, to knock him on the back of the head for being so rude. Her mouth dropped open as the guy suddenly gave a grunt and fell over in the aisle. He lifted his head, looking at everyone staring at him.
This wasn't the first time Gwynn had wished something and it happened, though she didn't look too deep into herself to find out why. Too bad she hadn't been able to wish herself to Scotland instead of having to fly.
Looking away as the guy scrambled to his feet, Gwynn ignored the tingle of awareness that lodged itself in the base of her spine. She had always had a fascination with Scotland and its supposed legends and myths of magic, Druids, and Highland warriors.
Gwynn stretched her shoulders as she finally stepped off the plane and followed the signs to baggage claim. Worry over her father's cryptic message pushed aside her nausea.
It had been three weeks since her father's message. Three long, worry-filled weeks with little sleep. He was known to get deeply involved in his research and forget to call for a day or so, but never for three weeks. It's what had spurred Gwynn to buy a plane ticket and spend eleven hours on the flights from Houston to New York, then on to Edinburgh, with her mind conjuring all sorts of accidents that could have befallen her father.
Gwynn collected her small suitcase and adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder as she looked around for the rental car sign. As soon as she saw it, she made a beeline for it while dodging other people and their luggage.
It took no time at all to rent a car, but as Gwynn stood beside her small red Fiat Punto she had to wonder if she could drive it. Not only would she be driving on the wrong side of the road, but she'd be sitting in the wrong side of the car. A manual car.
"I'm an idiot with my left hand," she mumbled as she tossed her suitcase into the back and climbed behind the wheel.
But she had to know what had happened to her father. He was all she had left. Her mother had died three years before, leaving just Gwynn and her father to cope. Her mother had kept the family bound together.
It had been a loose bond, but it was still a bond.
Her father, Professor Gary Austin of Rice University, the most prestigious private university in Texas, was the professor everyone hated to get. He loved his field of anthropology, and he expected everyone else to love it as well.
It was that love that had taken him from his family. Gwynn's mother had merely smiled as she watched her husband succumb to some new finding that would keep him at the university far into the night doing research.
Gwynn had hated him for it. Weeks would go by before he would return home or check on his wife. Gwynn had learned to distance herself from him, to forget that she still had a father.
Until her mother died.
It was as if Gary had looked at her for the first time and realized he had a daughter.
From that moment on, he'd made an effort to call her at least every other day while he was off finding new research all over the globe. While he was at home, Gwynn made sure she cooked for him every Sunday night.
It had taken her mother's death, but Gwynn had gained a father. Somewhat.
Gwynn pulled out the map and bit her lip as she used her finger to find the road she would need to take to the west side of Scotland and the isles there.
She folded her map and turned on her phone. Gwynn blew out a harsh breath when she saw no messages waiting for her. She was expecting two calls: one from her father telling her he was fine and there was no need to worry, and one from Rice. Hopefully the university could tell her exactly what had sent her father off to Scotland within an hour of finding some ancient book.
Gwynn rubbed her tired eyes, wincing at the sandpaper feel behind her eyelids, and started the car. The first thing she had to do was find something to eat. All she wanted was to curl up and sleep, but it was ten in the morning in Scotland, and she had traveling to do. She could sleep for a week once she found her father.
No sooner had Gwynn found first gear and uneasily let out the clutch than her phone rang. She was in such a hurry to grab the phone she had tossed on the seat next to her that she stalled the engine.
She fumbled for the phone, uncaring what happened to the car.
"Hello?" she said breathlessly, hope spreading in her chest that it was her father.
"Is this Gwynn Austin?" a nasal male voice asked.
Gwynn closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat. "It is."
"This is Phil Manning from Rice University. I'm returning your calls about your father."
"About time." She didn't bother to keep the testiness out of her voice. She'd been calling Rice for about a week. No one would take her calls, nor would anyone return them. Maybe it was the threat to call the FBI that had gotten things moving along.
"Yes," the man said, and she could just imagine him rolling his eyes. "Your last message left us little choice."
"Why there was a choice to begin with, I wouldn't know."
"Your father's whereabouts are no longer our concern."
A sick feeling filled Gwynn's stomach as she clutched her cell phone tighter. "What do you mean?"
"He resigned his position here almost a month ago. He refused to listen to reason or even agree to take a sabbatical. He was one of our best professors, Miss Austin. He'd been with the university for decades. None of that meant anything when he quit."
Gwynn swallowed and let his words sink into her fuzzy brain. "So, you're telling me the university didn't send him to Scotland to investigate some artifact he wanted to research?"
"No."
That one word opened the floodgates. Tears began to fall unheeded down her cheeks. "Do you…" She paused and cleared her throat. "Do you know what he was looking for?"
"He took all his research, Miss Austin," the man said, his tone softer. "I am sorry we cannot be of more help."
She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. "Thank you. If you happen to find anything of his he might have forgotten, or something that might help me find him, please let me know."
"Of course. Good luck, Miss Austin."
Gwynn hung up the phone and put her forehead on the steering wheel as she sniffed. "What the Hell is going on, Dad?"
Her father loved the university. Rice had been his life. He had sacrificed years in order to gain the position of professor. What would have made him leave so suddenly?
Gwynn lifted her head and wiped her eyes before she started the car again. She drove until she found a convenience store where she bought a soda, a bag of chips, and the one sandwich that didn't look questionable.
She didn't allow herself to think of the conversation with Mr. Manning at Rice. She'd let her mind speculate enough on the plane ride from the States. It was time she had facts. Until then, she would keep her mind focused on getting to her destination.
And not leaving the transmission on the road while she learned to shift with her left hand.
Copyright © 2012 by Donna Grant
