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If the job interests me, won’t interfere with my other work, and if I like the client, I might take it. So spill.”“Simon is missing,” she plunged in. “I haven’t heard from him since he left Sunday before last. I need you to find him.”Simon Barnett was the president and majority owner of a privately held conglomerate with revenues in nine or ten figures and a net measured in billions. His office was on the top floor of the Washington Building, but for all the space, I’d heard he employed relatively few people there.The Simon Barnett that I knew was more than a corporate bigwig—and much less. If I were in his position, I’d probably disappear too. One reason was sitting right in front of me. I stared fixedly at Brenda Barnett. As much as Simon shunned publicity, Brenda lived for newspaper photographers and famous handshakes. While she smiled for the cameras, he quietly bought and sold people in the form of stocks and corporations.“That’s only ten days,” I said at last. “Surely it can’t. I remember assessing how easy it might be to push past the man, open the door and run. My legs went from under me and I collapsed to the floor and put my arms over my head and whimpered… ‘Please, don’t … please…’ My father laughed and said, ‘Oh, but I am going to and you are going to thank me for it.’ And then, suddenly I remember the strange sense in my mind, like a push into my thoughts, and suddenly I was relaxed and calm. I lifted my arms from my head and looked up at my father’s face. My previous fear seemed distant, silly even. He looked so lovely and tender and I felt safe. My father continued to gaze lovingly into my eyes. His face seemed softer now, and his hands too, as he gestured at the easy chair in the center of the room, the one I had been sitting in. ‘Why don’t you sit?’ he asked, and it suddenly seemed like the most natural thing to do, so I sat in the chair and crossed my legs. I was wearing a simple summer dress, patterned with flowers. It felt soft against my.
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