Tracking Medusa

Archaeologist Dr. Gwen Finnegan is on the hunt for her lover’s killer. Historical researcher Justin Yates bumps into her, literally, on the steps of the New York Public Library, and comes to her aid when she’s attacked, sparking an attraction between them in spite of their age difference. After avoiding a cadre of pursuers at the Met Museum, Gwen impulsively invites Justin to hop a plane with her to the UK. The shy historian, frustrated with his failing relationship, jumps at the chance to join her on a real adventure. That adventure takes them through Europe, pursued by factions including Gwen’s ex-lover and nemesis, Karl, as they try to unspool fact from fiction in a multi-generational obsession with a statue of the goddess Medusa.


“I really need Custis’s diary. But I can’t sit in the library and read it.” Gwen bit her lip. “I need to get it out of the building.”

“No, you don’t. I have a photocopy in my bag.”

“You do?” She stared at him.

“I told the librarian I was working with you and I copied it while I waited for you.”

Gwen smiled. “You’re brilliant!”

Justin blushed. “Aren’t you glad I stopped for my bag?”

“Yes. You were right. I was wrong. And this is a time where I’m delighted to be wrong.” She thought for a minute again. “Do you have a passport?”

The question threw Justin. “Yes.”


He clutched his knapsack closer to him. “In my bag.”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again: You’re brilliant.” She paused. “You’re in for a penny. Are you in for a pound?”

Justin took a deep breath. “I need more information than that.”

“This is your choice. Your crossroads. They’ve seen you now. Hell, Karl’s even talked to you. I think you’re safer with me. But there are no guarantees on this ride. I never thought they’d go after Harry. And he’s dead.”

“Dead.” Justin swallowed. “Who’s Harry?”

“Long story. But he was working on this with me. I should say I was working on it with him, he was the lead on it, but now it’s up to me. And he’s dead.”

“The funeral you went to yesterday?”

“Yes.” Now it was Gwen’s turn to take a deep breath. “If you don’t want to do this, continue on with me, I’ll drop you off wherever you say.”

“I’m in,” said Justin.

“There are no guarantees.”

“I’m in,” he repeated, in a stronger voice.

Gwen leaned forward. “JFK, please,” she said to the driver.


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