“I’m sure everything will be cleared up quickly so you can be on your way. Yes, Mr. Harding?” Carl Bjørnson was addressing the Scandie Sights tour in the Dragon Room of Kvikne’s Hotel after breakfast on Sunday morning. He had informed them that the police had requested no one leave Balestrand. Carl and Jan had decided to break the news following the meal, not before. “Hard to be too upset after a Kvikne’s breakfast,” Jan had observed philosophically. Sidney Harding, however, had not been appease...d by the cloudberries in cream or the more than usually abundant herring preparations. “I demand to speak to someone from the embassy immediately! You can’t hold us here against our will. We’re U.S. citizens.” “We have relatives waiting for us in Kristiansand,” Carol Peterson said crisply. “I don’t understand why we can’t go about our business. It’s not as if any of us know where the uh…woman is.” Ursula gave her a piercing glance. She knew the missing word was stupid, or worse.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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