Read Online London Harmony: Doghouse by Erik Schubach - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Erik Schubach
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blonde exiting the building. It was the blonde from the rave! It had to be this Francine girl, what were the odds?
I pushed my way slowly through the crowd to the doors, then had to wait as a young man in an electric wheelchair navigated the doorway. A book he had on his lap fell and I stooped to pick it up. I gave it to him with a smile then ran out into the courtyard and looked around.
Damn! I had lost her. But then I saw the leather-clad blonde turn right out of the courtyard. I took off running. She was a block ahead walking with another woman. I tried to yell over the noise of the students and the traffic, “Francine!” But she didn't hear. She and the other woman had headphones on going down to the cell on her hip.
I had almost caught up with them when they went into a building that looked sort of like a cross between a college dorm and an apartment building. The sign above the doors read “Halls of Residence, Ponsonby Place.”
I walked up to the door and watched a man wave a card and the door buzzed open. I walked in behind him and looked around. I saw the two woman stepping trough a turnstile down one wing of the building and started off toward them when I literally ran into someone.
I looked down, ready to apologize. There standing in my path, like a tiny gatekeeper with her hand on my chest and blocking my way, was a short auburn haired woman with round glasses perched on her nose. She looked a little frazzled to me and the curly hair in her rushed and crooked ponytail had some of that same frazzle. She tucked in the loose tails of her blouse into her jeans with one hand as she held me back with the other. I pegged her to be in her early twenties.
She looked at me with wide brown eyes, off to my left slightly, but I could tell her focus was on me. She stood up straight and slid her round, Lennon spectacles, farther up her nose and took a deep breath. She cocked her head and said, “Right then, who might you be? I saw you didn't badge in. I'm Amarissa... Amarissa Hoyte, everyone around here calls me Amy. How may I be of assistance miss?”
I looked down at her then back at the door then explained, “I just need to talk with that blonde girl that just went that way.” I pointed and she looked back, her hand still firmly planted on my chest. I have to say, she had a lot more power that someone that small should have. I felt no give in the pressure she was exerting, and I don't know why I didn't back up. Maybe it was because I can be obstinate sometimes and I sort of resented her stopping me like that even though she was apparently just doing her job.
She smiled at me, well off to my left a bit and said, “Another yank!” Then she asked quieter, “Tell me, have you met a real cowboy?”
I blinked at the unrelated tangent. I was about to say, of course, but then narrowed my eyes, did she mean a cowboy cowboy? Didn't she know it wasn't the wild west in the States and hasn't been for over a hundred years? I said, “Depends on your definition. I've met modern cowboys.”
She frowned a little at my answer and I moved back slightly and tried to walk around her, just to walk into her arm barring my way. She was fast! If she had been my height, she would have clotheslined me, but instead her arm went across my mid chest. She made some chittering noise and said, “Where do you think you're going, miss? This is a security building, you can't just run around all willy nilly. There are rules and such.”
I exhaled and looked down at her again. She was starting to annoy me. “I just need to have a quick word with her. I'm trying to locate someone, they have something that belongs to me.”
She cocked her head. “What do they have of yours?”
I was clearly getting nowhere so I relaxed and she dropped her arm as I admitted, “My passport.”
She actually chuckled, “Silly yank. Why did you give them your passport?”
“I
I pushed my way slowly through the crowd to the doors, then had to wait as a young man in an electric wheelchair navigated the doorway. A book he had on his lap fell and I stooped to pick it up. I gave it to him with a smile then ran out into the courtyard and looked around.
Damn! I had lost her. But then I saw the leather-clad blonde turn right out of the courtyard. I took off running. She was a block ahead walking with another woman. I tried to yell over the noise of the students and the traffic, “Francine!” But she didn't hear. She and the other woman had headphones on going down to the cell on her hip.
I had almost caught up with them when they went into a building that looked sort of like a cross between a college dorm and an apartment building. The sign above the doors read “Halls of Residence, Ponsonby Place.”
I walked up to the door and watched a man wave a card and the door buzzed open. I walked in behind him and looked around. I saw the two woman stepping trough a turnstile down one wing of the building and started off toward them when I literally ran into someone.
I looked down, ready to apologize. There standing in my path, like a tiny gatekeeper with her hand on my chest and blocking my way, was a short auburn haired woman with round glasses perched on her nose. She looked a little frazzled to me and the curly hair in her rushed and crooked ponytail had some of that same frazzle. She tucked in the loose tails of her blouse into her jeans with one hand as she held me back with the other. I pegged her to be in her early twenties.
She looked at me with wide brown eyes, off to my left slightly, but I could tell her focus was on me. She stood up straight and slid her round, Lennon spectacles, farther up her nose and took a deep breath. She cocked her head and said, “Right then, who might you be? I saw you didn't badge in. I'm Amarissa... Amarissa Hoyte, everyone around here calls me Amy. How may I be of assistance miss?”
I looked down at her then back at the door then explained, “I just need to talk with that blonde girl that just went that way.” I pointed and she looked back, her hand still firmly planted on my chest. I have to say, she had a lot more power that someone that small should have. I felt no give in the pressure she was exerting, and I don't know why I didn't back up. Maybe it was because I can be obstinate sometimes and I sort of resented her stopping me like that even though she was apparently just doing her job.
She smiled at me, well off to my left a bit and said, “Another yank!” Then she asked quieter, “Tell me, have you met a real cowboy?”
I blinked at the unrelated tangent. I was about to say, of course, but then narrowed my eyes, did she mean a cowboy cowboy? Didn't she know it wasn't the wild west in the States and hasn't been for over a hundred years? I said, “Depends on your definition. I've met modern cowboys.”
She frowned a little at my answer and I moved back slightly and tried to walk around her, just to walk into her arm barring my way. She was fast! If she had been my height, she would have clotheslined me, but instead her arm went across my mid chest. She made some chittering noise and said, “Where do you think you're going, miss? This is a security building, you can't just run around all willy nilly. There are rules and such.”
I exhaled and looked down at her again. She was starting to annoy me. “I just need to have a quick word with her. I'm trying to locate someone, they have something that belongs to me.”
She cocked her head. “What do they have of yours?”
I was clearly getting nowhere so I relaxed and she dropped her arm as I admitted, “My passport.”
She actually chuckled, “Silly yank. Why did you give them your passport?”
“I
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