Begun by Time by Morgan O'Neill

in a genial mood. He sat in a rear corner table, said to be his usual spot, and ordered a meal. To this point all witnesses agree everything seemed quite ordinary. It was just after his meal was delivered that Major Brandon was heard to shout or scream. Some described the sound as unnatural, others said he sounded terrified.”
    A ragged sob tore from Nigel. Catherine moaned and leaned into Poppy’s embrace.
    “At this point, the accounts of the witnesses diverge.” Wainwright shifted, glanced around the room as though uncomfortable, and referred to his notes. “Most saw nothing, as they weren’t paying particular attention. It seems he was simply gone. Some speculate he went to use the lavatory and didn’t come out, but there is no exit from the pub in that direction. All swear he never left by the front door, as they would’ve seen him go.”
    Catherine looked up, confused, and clutched at a faint hope that bloomed in her heart. “So, what exactly happened? Why all the fuss if he simply can’t be located? It sounds as though he might walk in the door at any moment.”
    Wainwright scrubbed a hand across his face. “As to that, we’d all be right glad of it. But the thing is, he left his military coat and hat, his brolly, exactly where he’d placed them. Plus his lunch was practically untouched.”
    “I don’t believe you’re in the habit of treating a missing person’s case with such …urgency,” Catherine said, her shaky voice belying her practical questions. “Please, tell me, what is the reason for this extreme response?”
    The detective mopped his brow, checked his notes once again, and then focused on a spot just above Catherine’s head. “The barman swears he witnessed the whole thing, but his account is odd. At this point and time, we are keeping his statements out of the public record. Suffice it to say, he maintains… Truth is, he might well be on a bender, or he could be a complete lunatic — or both.”
    Catherine tried to swallow, but her throat was parched, and her words came out as the barest whisper, “Lunatic? Why?”
    “Mind you, you’re not to repeat a word of this. But…I’m saying lunatic because the man claims Brandon vanished before his eyes, faded away like a ghost.”
    Stunned, Catherine stared at the detective as voices rose around her, confused, angered, incredulous. But something about the detective’s tone of voice struck a chord deep within.
    She remembered what had happened to Jonnie, his hallucinations. He’d described the sensation of fading. He’d seen translucency in his hands. What in God’s name happened to him? She had no idea what any of this meant, but she knew, she knew , whatever happened to Jonnie, he was beyond her reach, beyond her love, and their lives were forever altered, all their dreams irretrievably broken.
    Stars danced before her eyes once again, and the strained voices and tearful cries that filled the room receded. Light waned and darkness beckoned.
    Catherine gratefully let herself slip into the void.
    …
    Christmas Day crept in quietly and without fanfare. There would be no celebrating. Catherine’s whole face felt swollen and painful, her tears and anguish the cause. Poppy had insisted on coming home with her the night before, and lay beside her on the bed, still holding her hand as she’d done all night. Her face was equally puffy, but at least she seemed to be sleeping, and Catherine wanted to allow her these restful moments. Neither of them had gotten more than a few snatched minutes of sleep during the night. So, although she had a powerful urge to get up and start the day, she forced herself to wait until Poppy woke on her own.
    She intended to go to the pub first thing and speak with the owner, Mr. Lloyd, in person. Then she would go to Scotland Yard and see what more they’d found out.
    After that, she would spend the day with Nigel. She was the only person left in his life. The rest of his family was gone, and she couldn’t