Read Severed Threads for Free Online Page A

Assuming he could be bothered long enough to call her back.
    The machine’s beep broke into Rachel’s thoughts, and a man’s voice echoed through the room. "Rachel, I’m still trying to reach you."
    She froze. Her heart contracted at the familiar tone. Her father’s. But how –
    "I’m going to be in town for a few days. If you don’t mind, I’d really like to stop by. If you get this...just please return my call this time, okay?" A pause. "You have my number."
    Slowly, her muscles relaxed as she realized it wasn’t her father on the phone, haunting her from the grave. It was her Uncle Paul, her dad’s brother. A walking ghost with a voice and face bearing too much resemblance for Rachel’s comfort.
    Shaking off the voicemail, she retrieved an engraved pill holder from her purse. She swallowed two aspirins and clicked the container shut. Her reflection beamed on the silver casing. Only a long peaceful sleep could erase the fine lines edging her hazel eyes – or pricey Botox injections. Neither one a viable option. Thank goodness for Visine – magic in a bottle, preventing mistaken presumptions at the office or, even worse, inquiries of concern.
    She shouldered her purse and opened the front door as the phone rang again. Clearly her uncle was determined. Another ring and the hypocrisy hit her. Who was she to criticize Devon for refusing to acknowledge calls from a family member?
    Reluctantly, she picked up the phone and said hello.
    "Rachel, it’s Lao," the man replied. “I’m so glad I caught you.
    She was so relieved that it took several seconds for his name to register. Dr. Ying.
    On a monthly basis, he had made a point of checking up on her since her father’s death. But the casual use of his first name and urgent tone were uncharacteristic this morning.
    "What can I do for you, Professor?" She hoped he wasn’t going to take her question literally.
    "Is there any possibility you could stop by the museum for a few minutes?" He sounded preoccupied, as if troubled by something greater than his denied grant application.
    "Well, I guess I could delay my ten o’clock…"
    "Good, good. Meet me in the maritime wing outside the new exhibit hall."
    "Can you at least tell me – ”
    Click.
    "Professor? Hello?" Fabulous. Why on earth hadn’t she kept walking out the door? The last thing she needed in her life was to borrow someone else’s trouble.

    * * *
    Rachel hadn’t misunderstood him. She was sure of it. A quick peek inside an adjacent room revealed gold chairs and floral decorations for the planned reception. But there was no sign of Dr. Ying anywhere. She walked the entire length of the maritime wing a second time. I’ll give him ten more minutes, she told herself.
    Glancing around, she tapped her hand in a steady rhythm against her thigh. Just then, her attention caught on the new display before her: an enormous photograph of recovery operations in the shallow waters of Abu Qir Bay. The underwater view of divers at work pulled her closer. She leaned in to skim the detailed description.

Fire had ignited gunpowder kegs in the hull of the Akron during a battle with the British fleet. Part of the stern had been found completely intact. Also six bronze cannons and two casts brimming with glistening jewels. A dispute broke out between Egypt and France after evidence on board confirmed that Napoleon’s flagship, The Orient , was involved in a renewed salvage attempt by the Quebec Maritime Development Company.
    "Don’t let the Canadian reference fool you."
    Rachel’s spine stretched. Finally. She spun around to face Dr. Ying.
    "Local divers were instrumental in that world-renowned project," he added. "And the photograph over there…" He gestured with the black attaché case in his grip. “That’s a bronze breach loader from a Spanish galleon off the Florida Keys, another remarkable find."
    Fascinating, if she were in the mood for a tour. Which she wasn’t. But at least her apprehension was alleviated. In