“Zoe,” Dimitris said. He started to hug her, then stopped short as she cradled her arm against her chest.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Where’s Sam?”
Nikos had helped Sam onto the hillside. He was coiling up the rope while Nikos removed the anchor.
Bewildered, Zoe said, “Why are you putting that away? Isn’t someone going to look in the cave?”
“It was empty,” Sam said.
“How do you know?”
“I was able to look inside,” Sam assured her.
“Let’s get you off this hill,” Nikos said as he and Dimitris each took one side, helping her down the path toward the blue-topped church. A few fat drops splattered on the ground in front of them. Looking out, the rain was dancing across the sea that had been calm but was now darkening, and the clouds were racing toward the shore. In the short few minutes it took for them to get from the top of the hill to the bottom near the dock, the sun had disappeared behind a thick bank of angry clouds, and the cerulean waters had turned black.
The storm was nearly on them.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Nikos looked up at the sky. “I don’t think anyone expected the weather to turn so soon. Certainly not me.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sam said. “We weren’t expecting to be here this long.”
They headed into the church to take a better look at Zoe in order to decide their best course of action. As they stepped inside the gate of the courtyard, a particularly large wave hit the six-foot wall, sending a spray of water over the top. Nikos and Dimitris, on either side of Zoe, helped her quickly through the door, where it was still dry. “How are you feeling?” Nikos asked her.
“Other than my arm, I’m a bit dizzy.”
Dimitris helped her to sit. She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes. “What about that carving on the rock? It looked like the sketch, didn’t it?”
“Yes, it did. But not as angry.”
Sam, worried about the hit to Zoe’s head, drew Nikos aside. “On top of what looks like a break in her arm, she may have a concussion. We should get her to a doctor as soon as possible.”
Nikos glanced back at her. “The sooner we get out of here, the better,” he said as the wind whistled beneath the door. “If the storm hits and the boat capsizes . . .”
He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. Zoe, with her injuries, would never be able to withstand the choppy seas.
“If you’re talking about me,” Zoe said, “there’s no way I’m getting into that boat with this arm. I’ll walk to the town first.”
“It’ll take an hour to walk,” Dimitris said. “We can be home in fifteen minutes.”
She started to laugh, then gave a half-sob. “As rough as that water is? Fifteen minutes of pure torture. I’m the injured one. Shouldn’t I get a say?”
Sam looked out the door. The cape that normally protected the bay was being smashed on both sides, the waves nearly covering the rocks. Their RIB boat bounced up and down and against the dock as if it were a toy. “Is there anyone here on the island who can help her?”
“She’ll need to get her arm set in Fourni. If we can get the boat to the town’s port, she’ll have an easier time of it. The water is calmer, as it’s protected by the two islands. We just have to do it before the storm breaks.”
“By land it is. I’ll take the boat and meet you all at the harbor in Thimena.”
“Just be aware,” Nikos said. “The channel can be difficult. It’s where the north and south waters converge. You saw how it was when we went through earlier. It’s likely to be worse.”
Sam, fortunately, had plenty of experience in navigating similar boats in harsh weather. His mother ran a boat chartering business in South Florida, an area that was often hit by hurricanes. “Understood.”
Remi brushed her hair back from her face as she looked up at him. “I’m going with you.”
“Remi—”
“Who’s going to rescue you if you fall out?”
“She’s right,” Nikos said. “Better with two should something happen.”
Sam nodded. “How strong of a swimmer are you?”
“Very. I swam long distance at BC.”
He knew it was a lost battle, especially seeing the determination in her green eyes. “Okay. No argument. Let’s go.”
As Dimitris and Nikos gathered Zoe between them, starting up the narrow trail along the north side of the island, he and Remi walked down to the dock, grateful that it hadn’t yet started raining in earnest. He jumped into the Lazy Krab, then reached up for Remi, holding her hand as she tried to time her jump when the boat rose. Launching wasn’t easy. Sam attached the kill switch to his wrist, hoping they’d never need it.
Remi sat next to him, bracing herself against the roll bar as he navigated over the choppy water. They both relaxed once they were out of the turbulent northern waters, then zipping south along the much calmer west side. That all changed when they rounded the southern tip of the island and neared the channel.
Sam slowed the boat as they approached, shocked to see how vastly different it was from their earlier trip. It had seemed so much wider earlier that morning. Now the three-hundred-foot space between the two islands had turned into a churning mass of white water. “Hold on!” he shouted.
Remi nodded, then wrapped her arms around the roll bar.
Sam took it slow, the boat bouncing from wave to wave. The bow raised then slammed down into the trough as the next wave rose up in front of them. At several points, the wind was so strong, it sent them hydroplaning backward, the ninety-horsepower motor not enough to keep them moving forward. They were nearly through the channel when the tip of the boat hit then breached a wave. As the trough opened beneath them a sharp gust hit beneath the hull. The bow flew upward. Suddenly, they were airborne, the boat sweeping up and around like a roller coaster, tossing them into the water. Sam surfaced to a tornado of whitecaps swirling around him.
Remi was nowhere in sight.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Sam heard nothing but the roar of the wind in his ears as he called Remi’s name.
A wave lifted him as he treaded water, searching. He glimpsed the boat about fifteen meters away just before he dropped down into a trough. Somehow it had landed upright, and he tried swimming toward it. The current in the channel was too strong. Another wave lifted him. He glimpsed the boat flying toward him. It would likely pass him if he stayed where he was. Swimming to the right, the next wave brought him up, the boat almost on top of him. He reached for one of the handles on the side, feeling the rubber sliding beneath his fingertips. He gave one more kick, reached out with his other hand, grasping the handle. Gripping it, he swung his leg over the side, pulling himself in. The wind gusted, lifting the boat then slamming it down, tossing him into the bottom. He scrambled to the controls, realizing the motor was still propelling the boat forward. The kill switch strapped to his wrist had snapped off when he fell. Small miracle, he thought, putting the engine in neutral, searching the water for Remi, shouting her name.
“Sam!”
He heard rather than saw her. As a wave propelled the boat upward, in a flash he caught sight of something dark on the surface about a boat’s length away.
Remi.
The bow dropped into the next trough, knocking him down. He found a rope, dragged it toward him with his foot, grabbed a life preserver, tied one end of the rope to it, the other end to the roll bar, then pulled himself up on the seat back. The craft rose. He threw the life preserver in the direction he thought he’d seen Remi, losing sight of it in the storming water. The rope sank below the surface. He reached for it, figuring he’d have to make another attempt, when it suddenly went taut.
Linking his arm around the roll bar, he pulled on the rope, finally seeing Remi clinging to the preserver. He managed to get her aboard while the water roiled
around them, tossing the boat about. Exhausted, she clung to the seat as he started the boat, navigating through the channel—finally reaching the calmer waters between Thimena and Fourni. As they motored into the port at Thimena to await the others, he looked at Remi, shivering in the seat next to him. “Remind me the reason you were coming?”
“Good luck charm?”
He held up his wrist, showing her the broken kill switch. “Guess it worked,” he said, then leaned over and kissed her.
* * *
—
Thankfully, the trip from Thimena to Fourni was much less eventful, the storm holding off until after they’d reached the larger island. Once there, they took Zoe up to the clinic, where they were expecting her. By the following afternoon, the rain had lessened to a light sprinkle, barely wetting the ground. The ferries were running on schedule and life on the island seemed to be back to normal. After the harrowing afternoon the day before, Sam and Remi decided to take advantage of the break in the weather to walk into the village to meet Nikos, Denéa, and Manos for coffee at Skavos’s café. As they sat there, a number of islanders stopped by their patio table to talk to Sam, their Greek spoken too fast for him to get the gist.
“They’re thanking you,” Nikos explained. “For bringing Zoe home.”
Sam, slightly uncomfortable under the constant stream of well-wishers, began to realize exactly how tight-knit the community was. “Tell them you and Dimitris did the heavy lifting. All we did was bring the boat.”
Skavos brought their coffee, refused to take payment, then added his thanks to the list.
Remi smiled, then turned her attention to Nikos. “How’s Zoe?”
“Much better. Dimitris is with her. She wants the four of you to come up for dinner. Apparently one of her neighbors brought over enough food to last her a month.”
“She should be resting, not entertaining,” Remi said.
“It’s just the four of you. She should be fine.”
“You’re not going?” Sam asked.
“I think I’ll enjoy stretching my feet out and doing nothing tonight.”
“I’m in,” Denéa said. “Manos?” He nodded.
Remi glanced at Sam. “Up for it?”
“And have another chance to sample some home-cooked Greek food? Absolutely.”
That evening, Sam and Remi picked up a bottle of Santorini-grown Assyrtiko white wine, then strolled up the hill to Zoe’s cottage. As they walked in, the scent of savory meat and spices filled the room.
“Whatever that is,” Sam said, breathing in deep, “it smells wonderful.”
“Moussaka,” Dimitris called out from the kitchen. “Ground lamb and eggplant casserole.”
Zoe, seated on the couch, stood up to greet them. Sporting a bruise on her forehead that seemed to be settling down to her right eye, and a cast on her right arm, she looked remarkably spry for someone who’d just taken a good fall down a hillside only the day before. She hugged them both, then offered to help in the kitchen until Dimitris shooed her back to the sofa like a mother hen. Denéa and Manos arrived a few minutes later, bringing another bottle of wine. The men disappeared into the kitchen, opened the wine, then returned and set the table. Surprised that they had talked their way through the first bottle, Dimitris pulled the casserole out of the oven and brought it to the table, the sauce and cheese on top still bubbling. The second bottle opened, and everyone seated, he raised his glass, toasting their safe return.
“To Sam,” Zoe said, “for managing to find me.”
Sam lifted his glass. “To the moussaka. Before it gets cold!”
They laughed and started eating. Zoe watched Sam as he dished up a hefty serving. “Things are still a bit fuzzy, so you’ll have to forgive me if you already mentioned it. But did you see anything at all in the cave?”
“Nothing worth exploring,” he replied. “If there was ever a treasure in there, it’s long gone.”
She sighed. “I was so sure about that marking on the rock.”
“It’s Greece,” Manos said. “There are a lot of markings carved on a lot of rocks.”
Remi laughed. Her smile, Sam decided, seemed far more relaxed than it had in several days. Whether it was news of Adrian Kyril’s arrest, her talk with Denéa, or their shared experience on Thimena rescuing Zoe, he didn’t know. One thing he was certain of, Remi’s spirit had definitely taken a turn for the better.
As much as Sam didn’t want the night to end, if only because Remi was enjoying herself for the first time in a while, he saw how tired Zoe appeared. “We should probably go.”
“I’ll get the dishes,” Remi said.
“Definitely not,” Denéa told her. “You and Sam get a pass for bringing home the Lazy Krab. Who knows what would have happened to it. Manos can do the dishes.”
“Me?”
“It’s your boat.” Her blue eyes sparkled with laughter as she got up to clear the table, shooing both Remi and Sam away when they tried to help. It wasn’t until he and Remi were on their way out the door that she happened to glance at the Pirates of Poseidon book sitting on the coffee table. She stopped to pick it up, looking back at Zoe. “It just occurred to me. Selma seems good at researching. If there’re any historical references to Poseidon’s Trident, she might be able to find them.”
“Not a bad idea,” Sam said. “Would you mind if we took photos?”
“Of course not.” Zoe turned the pages for Sam as he took a photograph of each. “Imagine if your friend actually discovers that Poseidon’s Trident really exists.” Her eyes lit up. “That would be a wonderful way to honor my grandfather.”
A few minutes later, they emailed the photos to Selma. After saying their goodbyes, Denéa waved a dish towel at them. “We’re almost done if you want to wait for a ride home.”
Sam glanced at Remi, who shook her head. “It’s too nice out not to walk.”
He and Remi took the stairs down the hill to the port, then started up the steep, winding road toward Kampi. Because there was so little traffic on the island, there were no sidewalks, and no streetlights. A low stone wall on their right was all that separated them from the sharp drop to the sea, and they could just make out the sound of the waves breaking on the rocks far below.
About midway up the hill, Remi looked back in the direction of Fourni. “Zoe’s right. Finding that treasure would be a wonderful way of honoring Tassos.”
“Assuming it really exists.”
“But if it did, wouldn’t it help prove that’s why Tassos was killed?”
He stopped, looking down at her. “Remi . . .” Whatever might have been said next was lost when a car came speeding up the hill, its tires screeching as it rounded the curve toward them.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Blinded by the headlights, Sam pulled Remi to the side of the road against the low wall. The dark blue compact car sped past them to the top of the hill.
Sam, still holding Remi tight, felt her heart beating against his chest. And with good reason. Pressed against the wall, they had only to look down to see the sheer drop on the other side. Before they had a chance to even process their close call, a second vehicle drove up and stopped beside them.
Manos was behind the wheel, Denéa in the front passenger seat. She rolled down her window. “Are you two okay? It looked like they almost hit you.”
Sam drew Remi from the wall. “Luckily, we managed to get out of the way.”
“Hop in,” Manos said. “We’ll give you a ride home.”
They climbed into the backseat and Manos took off. At the top of the hill, the blue car was making a three-point turn, and the vehicles passed each other, going in opposite directions. The silhouette of two men sitting inside the other car, one tall, one short, was all Sam could see as it drove back down the hill.
“Probably tourists,” Manos said. “There’s a rental car sticker on the wi
ndshield. They’re either drunk or lost. Or both.”
“Lost?” Denéa laughed. “On Fourni? It’s not like there’s all that many places to go. Drunk is more like it.”
A few minutes later, Manos turned off into Kampi, navigating down the long drive, until they reached the stairs. Sam and Remi got out, thanked them, then took the stairs down. A litter of calico kittens jumped off a low wall, then followed them until they reached the bottom by the Kampi Beach Bar. The cats ran off, and Sam and Remi continued on, hand in hand, along the water.
Remi was surprisingly quiet. When they finally reached the cottage, she stopped him just outside the gate. “What were you going to say up there, right before the car—Before Manos and Denéa picked us up?”
Sam was going to tell her that they might be better off leaving the treasure-hunting alone. But there was something about the way she looked at him, and all rational thought seemed to escape him. “This” was all he managed to say, then took her in his arms and kissed her in the moonlight. He pulled back, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “If that’s okay.”
Remi, somewhat breathless, nodded. He reached behind her and opened the gate.
* * *
—
By the time Sam and Remi sat down to lunch the following day, Selma called with a report on the photos that he’d emailed to her the night before. “Good afternoon, Mr. Fargo.”
“No need for formalities,” he said, though he was beginning to suspect she would continue to ignore this request. She seemed to be firmly entrenched in using titles.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Fargo,” she said, proving his point, then launching into the purpose of her call. “After receiving the book pages you sent—”
“Hold on,” Sam said. He put the call on speaker. “Go ahead. Remi’s here with me.”
“Working under the assumption that this story is a fictional retelling of something that really happened, it seems there are a few threads that may actually reference historical events. If the cave entrance was destroyed as depicted in the book, it was obviously an earthquake. Unfortunately, that doesn’t narrow down the time period, since the area is and has always been rife with seismic activity.”
Wrath of Poseidon Page 22