Page 105 of New Storm Rising
“Err…I fear that the mayor won’t be able to receive you. His calendar appears to be completely full.” Pulling out a book from a drawer, he hurriedly started leafing through it, nodding as if confirming his words. It was probably just a trick of the light that I thought the title readThe Wild Adventures of Buffalo Bill.
“Then,” Mr Ambrose suggested, grabbing the book and slamming it shut, “how about we make it a bit fuller?”
“Um…I wouldn’t…I couldn’t…”
“I see. So that’s how it is, is it?”
And without giving the clerk another second of his time, Mr Ambrose breezed past the desk and started up the steps.
“No, wait! You can’t just—”
But this was Mr Rikkard Ambrose. He wasn’t a man whom you could tell what he could or could not do.
I should know. I’d tried.
And tried. And tried. And…
Well, you get the idea.
Muttering under my breath, I hurried after him, trying not to pay attention to the shouts in Spanish outside of the building.
Having caught up, I glanced sideways at my dear husband. “Are yousureyour plan is going the way you want it to?”
“Certainly. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason. No reason whatsoever.”
It didn’t take long for all of us to reach the mayor’s office. Judging by the expression on the faces of the townspeople who were still following my husband and me, it could have been a little longer and they wouldn’t have minded in the least.
Unlike the last time, Mr Ambrose did knock on the door. With his entire fist, hard enough for the door to slam open.
I’d have to remember that method for later use.
“Wha—Señor Ambrose, what are you doing here?” A Hispanic man with a handlebar moustache you could most likely use to actually break doors open nearly leapt out of his chair. His eyes flickered to the others. “And who are you all?”
Marching forward until he towered over the smaller man, Mr Rikkard Ambrose sent the man his patented arctic gaze, guaranteed to deep-freeze opponents. “We? We are concerned citizens.”
“But…you’re British!”
“I’m very good at being concerned long-distance.”
“Um…is sat so?”
“Indeed.” Placing his fists down on the desk, Mr Ambrose leaned forward until he was close enough to cause frostbite to the smaller man by sheer proximity. “However, there are some things that are better taken care of up close and personal.”
The mayor swallowed.
“So, what can I do for se, ehem…concerned citizens?”
“It seems that these good people,” gesturing to the townspeople—who were giving me serious doubts about whether I hadn’t grown fatter by all trying to hide behind me simultaneously—he sent another intense stare at the mayor, “have been terrorized in this beautiful town by a gang of thugs who’ve decided to make this their home.”
“Oh. Um…is sat so? How…horrible.”
“It is, Mayor Velazquez, isn’t it?” My husband stroked a long, elegant finger along his jaw. “I wonder what kind of despicable, corrupt official was covering up for them, so no word of this reached the people in charge?”
“Ehem…well…I couldn’t say…”
“I’m sure you can’t. But now that you know about this, as the responsible mayor that you are, you surely wish to do something about this problem, do you not?”
