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museum room showcasing swords older than even he was were just as expected.
    Tedious.
    His host, William Doyle, the current head of the family, clearly was proud of the place. Perhaps it impressed most of their regular clients, especially given these items were rare and valuable. It had been a long time since Richard had viewed a true Knights Templar standard and this one was in fine shape for its age. Marshal would like it, but it was from before Richard’s time.
    The only element that made the visit worthwhile so far was the young woman in Doyle’s shadow, who had been introduced as his granddaughter, Marian. The one said to possess this phantom talent.
    Marian’s clothes reflected the image her family’s company wanted to convey. Her tight skirt and matching gray tweed jacket were almost severe. The white blouse blended in with no sign of personality. Yet she was the most important member of her family firm. Why did she seem so submissive?
    That would never do.
    She did have rather nice curly hair, which, Richard judged, she had taken some pains to get under control. He suspected that was a continual battle. Once or twice, he caught her bored glance as her grandfather droned on about the Doyle history. The man was boring both of them.
    William Doyle wanted to show off. And Marian knew it. Perhaps was even used to it.
    She might prove to be interesting after all.
    Marshal had waxed poetic about how valuable the phantom power could be. Richard was eager to see Marian demonstrate it. Getting her away from this officious fool was the first step.
    Doyle halted at the bottom of the steps to the second floor. Richard hadn’t heard what he’d said for some time. It wasn’t important.
    â€œThank you for the tour, Mr. Doyle, but I need to discuss business with your granddaughter now. You must be very busy running this place. I won’t take up more of your time.”
    Doyle cleared his throat. He knew he was being dismissed.
    â€œAs the head of the firm, I must attend all meetings for such an important client, sir, to ensure all is done properly.”
    â€œAs a representative of your oldest and most longstanding patron, I must insist on doing this my way. Unless you’d like me to report to the Court that your services are unsatisfactory?”
    Doyle stepped back. “I didn’t mean to question your judgment. I only point out that my granddaughter is young to take this on alone.”
    Marian sighed.
    â€œFrom my perspective you’re just a child yourself, Mr. Doyle. Should I become dissatisfied with Ms. Doyle’s services, I’ll let you know. Now, let’s get to work.”
    He motioned for Marian to precede him up the steps. They left Doyle at the bottom. Richard was tempted to turn around to see if the man had his mouth hanging open in shock.
    Richard resisted the temptation. That would be unseemly. Instead, he studied Marian, infinitely more interesting. The skirt hugged her backside. She had shapely calves too. A runner, perhaps? Her shoes were flats. Practical. Even less showy than the white blouse, especially since heels would have showcased those lovely legs. She wore little make-up. That might fit with her role as dutiful scion of a stuffy house, but he wondered if this woman had any color at all.
    What kind of bathing suit would she wear to a beach? Would she even like the water?
    She opened the door to her office. Ah, this was better.
    The large picture window behind her desk let in abundant light. The walls were painted a warm blue color. The shelves to the left of her desk were filled with Native American items, along with a few framed photos of someone he guessed was her sister. The desk was modern and reminded him of something from an Apple store.
    He strolled over and picked up an arrowhead from one of her shelves. Stone, yes, but the design wasn’t too different from the arrowheads of his time.
    â€œPlease be careful with that, sir.”
    â€œYou