Page 38 of A Life Imagined
Rayan slammed his fist down on the desk, and both the mayor and Laurent jumped.“Can’t you see that this is about more than votes?This is about people’s lives.”
Laurent stood and placed a hand on Rayan’s shoulder.“It might be best if you waited outside.”
Rayan’s gaze traveled from Laurent’s grimace to the shocked expression on the mayor’s face, and he muttered something in the way of an apology.
“I think I’ll join him,” Asmarina said stiffly, and the two of them walked back out to the reception area.
Chastened, Rayan paced as Asmarina took a seat on one of the wooden benches.“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
“Better than sitting there smiling in that bastard’s face.”She tilted her head curiously.“You have a temper, Ayari.I wouldn’t have guessed.”
More than a temper.He had a violent streak refined to perfection.Rayan clenched his fists.He was still seething but embarrassed that he’d lost control like that.Especially with everything they had on the line.
Asmarina sighed.“It’s always the same—the fate of the many placed in the hands of the few.And a clueless few at that.”
When Laurent emerged from the mayor’s office, he looked crestfallen.“He said he’s required to bring the proposal to vote at the next council meeting, but he won’t be endorsing the project.It’s a no from him.”
“Even with the majority of the funding secured?”Asmarina asked.
Laurent shook his head.“It was too ambitious.He’s not interested in solutions.”He began organizing the materials in his hands, slipping the letter of intent Karl had written for them inside the portfolio with the construction plans.“Durand holds the keys here.If he won’t back it, I’m not sure there’s any hope for the project.”
They made their way outside, and Rayan declined Asmarina’s offer of a ride home.He left on foot, hoping to dispel the bitter curl of defeat on his walk back to the house.He felt impotent, a fizzing ball of frustration.In his pocket, his phone began to ring.It was the number of the service office at the camp.
“Rayan,” one of the volunteers said frantically when he picked up.“Can you come?We have a bit of a situation, and they refuse to talk to anyone but you.”
They?He crossed the road and doubled back in the direction of the port.When he arrived at the Jungle, he hurried over to the cabin and found Farhan’s daughters standing outside, holding hands, as Amina wailed hysterically.Around them, people went about their business, accustomed to living amid the full display of public emotion.
“Hey, hang on now,” Rayan murmured as he approached, but the girls recoiled, frightened.In his suit, he must have looked like a stranger.“It’s only me.”
“Amo?”Zahra reached up to tug on the hem of his jacket.
“Where’s your papa?”Rayan asked.
The girl shook her head.“Gone.They took him.”
Rayan felt a cold realization dawn.“Who did?”
“The bad men.”
Chapter Fourteen
Elise was at an estate sale in Dunkirk—some fashion heiress who’d spent her life collecting Baroque portraits.She’d left that morning, giddy at the prospect of picking through the woman’s house for a bargain.Mathias had given her a generous upper limit and told her to use her best judgment.
It was amusing to see how flustered she got when he took his hand off the wheel.He had no doubt she’d come back with a decent set of purchases, but she didn’t seem to share his faith.Her confidence had been knocked by the Indonesian-sculpture debacle, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.If feelings of guilt helped secure her silence about the contents of the crate, then that worked in his favor.
Mathias was at the office, relishing the silence his appraiser had left in her wake, when the phone rang.He steeled himself for another pitch from Heylen.
“Changed your mind yet?”It was Marsela.
“Not something I’m in the habit of.”
“I heard you ran into some administrative trouble.Such a shame when the government makes things difficult for hardworking businesses.”
“Paperwork is easy to straighten out.”Like he was going to give her the satisfaction of knowing he’d spent days jumping through hoops.“I wanted to thank you for the gift,” Mathias went on.“You really shouldn’t have.”Even after Vicente had disposed of the gory delivery, the smell had lingered like a bad omen.
“Quit being coy, Beauvais.You have something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“I think you’ll find it does.I have the bill of sale to prove it.”
