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- 40 -
Ross Cleaver pushed aside his plate and stretched out his legs under the diner table. “We gotta make ourselves a plan.”
Lamb leaned back in the other side of the booth. “A plan?”
“A strategy.”
“A strategy?”
“Just shut up.” Cleaver reached for the napkin dispenser on the table, pulled out a napkin, and worked at smoothing out the wrinkles. Lamb watched the ritual with curiosity. Cleaver, satisfied the sheet was flat and ready for his notes, snapped his fingers. “Utensil.”
Lamb frowned, handed over a fork.
“Writing utensil.” To Lamb’s bewildered look: “A pen.” The other man nodded and jumped from the table, scrambling for the front counter. A few seconds passed before Cleaver had his pen. He scribbled to make it write, causing a tear in the napkin.
He stretched it out to make it taut, tried writing again:
BARTON
LI
PARFREY
MURDOCK
ANDERSON
LAWSON
MODELL
STUBBS
Lamb hovered. “What’re you doing?”
“Shut up.” Sticking out his tongue, Cleaver finished scrawling the list.
TOBIN
RIVERA
PAL
HAUS
CROTEAU
When he was done, he went back to the top and put a checkmark by the top name. Then he sat back in the booth. Pleased. “There. These are the candidates for City Council.”
“You remembered all those names?”
“Yeah.” Cleaver smiled, folding the napkin twice and sticking it in his shirt pocket. “I got what you call a ‘phonographic memory.’”
“I think it’s called—” Lamb stopped dead at Cleaver’s glare. Took a convenient sip of water.
Cleaver, elbows on table, locked his fingers together. “There are like a dozen different people trying to get into the city council. We just gotta sidle up to all them and make friends. See?”
Lamb, still sipping his water to keep his mouth occupied, nodded. There was spillage.
“We have the list. We find each of them. We talk to them. We—” Cleaver smirked to himself. “We get them in our pocket.”
“Shouldn’t we take more notes?”
“I got this list.”
“No, I mean, shouldn’t we write down more than their names?”
“What else would we write down?”
Lamb paused. Shrugged. “Where they are, where they live, where they work…”
“Details, details.” Cleaver looked out the window, regarding the people walking by. Wondered if they were registered to vote. “And it’s like the boss says, get ’em in our pocket. And when the election comes and goes, we keep the winner and drop the rest.”
“Won’t that be suspicious?”
Cleaver frowned. “What?”
Before Lamb could explain himself, the waitress was there with the check. “That all for you gentlemen?”
Cleaver grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” He patted the pocket on his shirt. “We got all we need right here.” He leaned forward, the grin turning ugly. “Unless you got any suggestions?”
She rolled her eyes, ripped the check out of the book, and slapped it on the table. Turned and walked away.
Cleaver looked toward Lamb. “Don’t you say a word.”
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There are 70 chapters for Tribulation House. You can purchase the whole eBook from Amazon, Apple, Kobo, B&N, and more!
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Tribulation House: Reloaded
Mystery / ThrillerNOW WITH ALL-NEW AUTHOR COMMENTARY! When the world fails to end on schedule, one man discovers that the mob is in no mood to discuss end-times theology. Read this novel on your Kindle Fire, iPad, tablet or smart phone! Get the free app here: http:...
