Sins of the Fathers, by Sheila Paulson
Egon's eyes measured him thoughtfully, then he pulled his attention back to the meter. "The readings are rather peculiar. Nothing to indicate a current ghost, but a vague fuzzing of the readout screen, as if something were nearby--but blocked. Adjust the frequency of the magnetometer."
Peter twiddled the dial. He still wasn't getting anything, but the device's needle quivered. He couldn't resist it. In an imitation of Egon's pedantic tone, he said, "Hmmmm."
"Give me that." Egon snatched it out of his grip and made further adjustments, his long fingers working with extreme dexterity. "As I thought."
"Something blocking us?" Peter asked.
"So it would appear. This is strange." He passed the magnetometer back and went around the room, P.K.E. meter held aloft and aimed directly at the walls. Peter went in the opposite direction with the magnetometer, mirroring Egon's gestures instinctively. He didn't detect so much as a quiver.
The fireplace interested him. It was huge, the mantle shelf adorned with a riot of carved figures, including a couple of bare-breasted ladies with flowing hair who wouldn't have been out of place as the figureheads on the prows of ships. Peter put up an involuntary finger to touch one of the carved breasts.
Behind him, the P.K.E. meter squealed into activity. A groan and rumble reverberated through the room and vibrated the soles of Peter's feet, Egon blurted out a startled cry, and then the meter cut off as if it had been crushed flat, along with Egon's cry, "Pet--" Peter whirled, dropped the magnetometer onto the overstuffed sofa, and yanked out his particle thrower.
In the instant it had taken him to turn, the room had stilled--and Egon had vanished.
Safe Places, by K. Hanna Korossy
(Starsky & Hutch)
"Hutch, I need help-MacDavitt's here, he's comin' after me."
Despite the fact that the words came out slurred and jammed together and with far less sense than Starsky had planned, to his credit, Hutch was already putting the pieces together. "What-MacDavitt? Starsky, where are you?"
"I don't know, somewhere out in the hills. I got away from him but he's comin' after me-I think he's snapped." Starsky looked behind him, searching the dark for any signs of his kidnapper. Somehow the fact that he didn't find any wasn't very reassuring. MacDavitt wasn't far. Starsky gripped the phone tighter, forcing his rattled mind to work. What had he forgotten? "Hutch, he's got a shotgun. Broke into the house-he's probably comin' after you when he's done."