Dead Air

The Meridian Building is gone. Detective Nora Voss signed the demolition order herself, filed the paperwork, and watched the rubble settle. The case was closed — officially, completely, on paper.
But closed cases don't account for what Pete Alvarez finds eight feet below the old foundation on a Tuesday morning in April: a sealed metal box, eighty years in the ground, bearing an inscription that seems to know him.
The signal does not require a building. It requires only a receiver. If you are reading this, you are already receiving it. You have been receiving it all your life.
Alvarez has been hearing something in the walls of his Kelworth Street apartment for years. Low. Layered. Almost words. He called it the pipes. He's called it the pipes so many times he could say it in his sleep.
He can't say it anymore.
The signal on 1410 kilohertz returned the same morning the box was found — diffuse now, searching, no longer anchored to a single structure. And the building records for Alvarez's apartment lead back to a name Nora recognizes: a corporate shell, dissolved in 1968, registered to an Edward Frederick Meridian. Son of the builder. Twenty years old when he placed the box in the ground and walked away.
He's a hundred and two now. He lives above the water in coastal Maine. And he has been waiting.
Dead Air is a novel about what comes after the discovery — after the case is closed and the building is gone and the question is still there, louder than before. It's about the difference between encountering something impossible and being prepared for it. About the cost of preparation. About what the dead know that the living have to learn.
It's about a detective who heard her mother's voice in the static six months ago and has been putting it away in the place she puts things she isn't ready to examine — and who is finally, slowly, running out of reasons to keep it there.
Nora Voss is the kind of person who follows the thread to its end. She has always been that kind of person. The thread goes further than she expected.
It goes all the way to the carrier.
The second novel in the Dead Frequency series by Ravyn Crowe.