The little girl’s blue eyes seemed to stare right through him, and Brian could feel the hairs at the back of his neck standing up. His client was staring at him curiously, but Brian just shrugged.

-You OK, Mr. Finley? You look like a ghost just passed over your grave.

For some reason, this only increased the intensity of his goosebumps.

Despite this, Brian had a productive day and closed three deals by 5 PM, at which point he decided to call it a day.

As Brian was gunning the engine, a hand closed upon his right shoulder. Brian flinched and instinctively jumped out of the car, almost breaking the seatbelt strap as he did so.

A man in a gray suit sat in the back seat. He was perhaps in his latter 60’s. The man smiled calmly, as if he expected that Brian would react in this way. Before Brian could gather his wits and ask this lunatic what he was doing inside his locked car, the man cleared his throat.

-Brian Finley, I’ve been waiting for you. 200 years is a long time to wait. I’m Henry Davenport.