Grendel's Curse. Alex Archer
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Название: Grendel's Curse
Автор: Alex Archer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Сказки
Серия: Gold Eagle Rogue Angel
isbn: 9781474000079
isbn:
“Café Skalunda,” she said. Even when she had been making her way there she had not realized that it bore the same name as the barrow. She smiled despite herself. She really was in a world of her own.
And then alarm bells started to ring inside her head. Why did the police want to know where she was? She was about to ask the officer why he was ringing her on Lars’s phone when he hung up.
She stared at the phone, trying to understand what had just happened.
Was someone pranking her?
Had something happened to Lars?
She redialed the number. It went straight to voice mail.
That made even less sense, unless the caller was going through his call log to reach out to people, but why would he do that?
As she stared out through the window she saw a car drive past; it was moving much slower than was necessary. Maybe they were lost, or maybe they were looking for something. Or someone. And maybe she was overreacting, but she knew to trust her instincts and her instincts screamed that something was off about the whole thing. She needed to get out of there.
Annja pulled some cash from her pocket, held it up for the woman behind the counter to see, then left it on the table. She took one more bite of carrot cake as she stood up, and mimed that it was good. The woman behind the counter smiled.
She thought about heading back to the hotel room, but it wasn’t as if she’d find any answers there. Walking out of the door, she sent a text through to Roux, telling the old man she thought things were about to get interesting. When that was away into the ether, she called Micke’s cameraman.
“Johan,” she said as a sleep-thick voice grumbled, “Hello?”
So much for being wide awake and ready to rumble.
“Time to get your groove on, sunshine. Action stations. I’ll get the car and meet you at the front of the hotel in twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes?”
“There’s an echo.”
“It’s unholy o’clock—where on earth are we going this early?”
“The dig.”
“The dig?”
“Yep. Might be good to get a few shots in the early-morning light.”
“Rubbish. You’re up to something, aren’t you, Annja? Micke’s warned me about you.”
“Busted,” she said.
“It’ll cost you breakfast,” Johan said.
Breakfast, it seemed, was the global currency of early-morning wake-up calls.
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