“You expect me to believe you have that much cash with you?”
“I had it delivered by special courier when I thought you had my wife.” Sam didn’t give him time to think. “Keep the boy in the open where I can see him. Meet me halfway. I’ll bring the money to you. If you’re satisfied it’s all there, you send the boy to me.”
A stretch of silence followed, then Makao said, “Agreed. But keep your hands where I can see them or you won’t make it back to your car.”
The phone beeped as Makao disconnected. Sam saw him talking to Kambili, who nodded in response to whatever he was saying.
“Let’s hope this works,” Sam said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Love never gets lost;
it’s only kept.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Remi handed Sam a Bluetooth earpiece. He placed it in his ear and tucked his Smith & Wesson into the back of his waistband.
Remi called his phone, telling him, “Be careful. I’m calling Lazlo now.”
He nodded when her voice sounded in his earpiece, then opened his door, holding up his empty left hand. Remi handed him his backpack. He lifted it by its strap with his other hand, making sure Makao knew he wasn’t holding a gun.
“I’m almost there,” Lazlo said.
Remi opened her door a few inches, bracing one foot on the frame, aiming her Sig in the direction of Makao’s truck. “Sam, stay to the left.”
Sam walked slowly toward the two men, glad to see the few wary pedestrians quickly running from the street out of sight. And no wonder. As many burned-out shells of houses Sam had seen on his way in, he knew the people here were no strangers to violence.
Makao and Kambili waited at the front of their truck, Chuk just behind them. When Sam reached the halfway mark, he tossed the backpack on the ground and held up both of his hands. “It’s yours.” Sam backed away to the left, making sure Remi had a line of sight.
Makao pushed Kambili. “Go get it.”
Kambili reluctantly moved forward.
C’mon, Lazlo …
“Here,” Lazlo said.
Sam saw him standing just behind the mud-sided building, waving at Chuk. The boy looked over at the professor, but then, surprising Sam, moved closer to Makao.
Sam heard Remi sigh. “I don’t think Chuk realizes that we’re trying to save him. Lazlo, you’re going to have to grab him.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Lazlo said, ducking back behind the building. “Buy me a few more seconds.”
That’s all they had left. Once Kambili reached the backpack, and realized the only cash it contained was probably a bit of change in the front zippered pocket, they were done for.
“Think of something, Fargo,” Remi said.
Sam held up both hands. “You sure you trust him?” he called out.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Makao said.
“Wasn’t asking you,” Sam replied. “I was asking Kambili.”
Kambili stopped, looking back at Makao. “What’s he talking about?”
“Don’t listen to him,” Makao said. “He’s doing this on purpose.”
Lazlo was back, this time with Nasha. Unfortunately, when Chuk saw her, Makao unknowingly stepped between them. Sam kept his gaze on Kambili. “Makao killed your brothers. What makes you think he’s not going to kill you the moment you grab that backpack?”
“He’s lying,” Makao said.
“Am I?” Sam took a second step that direction, still holding his hands up.
Chuk backed up and darted toward Lazlo and Nasha.
Makao tried to grab the boy. “They tricked us,” he shouted, aiming at Remi.
Her shot was nearly simultaneous to his. Makao staggered back toward the truck.
Sam drew his Smith & Wesson as Kambili spun around, gun in hand.
Sam fired.
Kambili dropped to his knees. Red bloomed on his chest as he fell facedown on the ground, still gripping his weapon. Sam kept his gun trained on the man, approached, kicked Kambili’s weapon away and leaned down, checking his pulse.
Dead.
“Fargo,” Remi shouted. “Makao’s getting away.”
Sam looked up in time to see the white truck backing up. He ran to the Land Rover to give chase, then stopped, seeing the odd tilt of the car as Lazlo, Nasha, Amal, and Chuk emerged from between the buildings. “Bad news,” Sam said, examining the damage.
“We could go after him,” Pete said, indicating the supply truck.
Sam spied the dust cloud in the distance. Had it been a smaller truck maybe? “You’d never catch him.”
Nasha crouched beside Sam and looked up at Lazlo, asking, “Is a flat tire unscathed?”
“When it comes to the Fargos? Quite.”
Eventually, the villagers started wandering out, a crowd gathering around the group, while they waited for the police to arrive from Mubi.
“Nasha?” A man pushed through the crowd, stopped, and stared in disbelief. “Nasha … Is that really you?”
Myriad emotions swept across her small face, but she didn’t move. “You … You said you were coming back for us …”
“I did. I looked for you. The man I paid to drive you, he told me … It doesn’t matter now. You’re here …” He held his hand out toward her, his smile broken. “Come. Give your old uncle a hug.”
Chuk nudged her forward.
That was all the encouragement she needed. The man scooped her up in his arms, hugging her tight. “My Nasha …”
Remi smiled at them. “All’s well.”
Sam, holding the tire iron, went back to removing the lug nuts when his cell alerted him to a text. He pulled it from his pocket, reading the message from Makao. I’m going to get her.
“Remi …” Sam handed her the phone.
She read the text, met his eyes, then looked at Nasha, saying, “I don’t know which her he’s talking about, but we’re not leaving ours behind, until he’s caught.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
A child who is carried on the back will not know how far the journey is.
– NIGERIAN PROVERB –
How to protect Nasha presented a problem. Although Pete had suggested she could return to the school with him, her uncle was against the idea of allowing her to live so far away—or accepting any sort of charity, after they offered to pay him to move. “Farming is the only thing I know. I’ve always told Nasha that life is what you make of it, but what lesson does that send my niece if I simply accept a handout because she had the good fortune to cross your path?”
That was something neither Sam nor Remi could argue with. Remi looked over at Nasha and Chuk, both out of hearing range as they tried to coax the dog from his coveted spot in the shade. Surprisingly, it was Amal who came up with a great suggestion. “She could come stay with me and my mother. A temporary visit to Tunisia.”
Remi smiled at Nasha’s uncle, hoping he’d agree.
“I’d say yes,” he replied, “except what little identification she had was lost in the fire.”
Sam and Remi exchanged glances. “Rube,” they said at the same time.
“He works for the government,” Remi explained as Sam called him at the CIA to arrange for an emergency visa.
When everything was settled, they told Nasha about the trip—but not about her uncle’s refusal to let her attend their school. “We’ll change his mind later,” Remi said to Sam once they were on their way.
Forty thousand feet in the air, they finally had a chance to relax—up to a point. Remi was left with the task of telling Amal what had happened to Warren. Amal sat at the table across from Remi, Nasha in her lap, while Sam and Lazlo occupied the two aisle seats. When the child fell asleep, Amal didn’t seem to notice how quickly the men excused themselves from the table, Lazlo proclaiming that he was in desperate need of a nap, Sam saying something about talking to the pilots about flight plans. Amal looked down as the girl stirred but didn’t waken. “I�
��m surprised she could sleep, as excited as she was about her first plane trip. Then again, after everything that’s happened, I may sleep for a week once I get home.”
Remi smiled at her. “Are you sure your mother doesn’t mind? We could always take her with us to the hotel. She might enjoy time by the pool.”
“I think my mother’s more excited about Nasha’s visit than Nasha is.”
“That may change when she’s faced with such a bundle of energy and curiosity.” Remi’s smile faded as she thought about how best to broach the subject. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Amal looked up in concern. “What’s wrong? Is it Dr. LaBelle?”
“She’s fine. It’s Warren.”
“The embezzlement. Has he been arrested? It’s all a terrible mistake, I’m sure of it.”
“He’s dead.”
“Dead …?”
“I’m so sorry. I know you were friends.”
She stared at Remi, her brow furrowing. “I don’t understand … How?”
“Renee found him yesterday morning. She asked me not to say anything until she knew the details. She was worried about the stress. That you might—”
“My seizures.”
“Yes …”
Amal’s eyes started to glimmer with unshed tears. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. Renee found him at the bottom of the excavation. She thought he might have fallen.”
“The broken deck …?”
“No. I think that had been ripped out. The police are looking into it. It’s possible it was a terrible accident. Maybe he didn’t realize the decking was damaged.”
“My mother didn’t even tell me.”
“I’m sure she was worried.”
“She’s very protective. Too protective.” Amal looked out the window for several long moments toward what promised to be a spectacular sunset, not seeing any of it. When Nasha stirred in her arms, she looked down at her, then back at Remi. “I think I’ll ask Nasha not to tell my mother about the kidnapping. She’ll only worry more.”
“I’m sure Nasha will keep your secret until you’re ready to talk about it.”
Sam returned from the cockpit, taking a seat next to Remi. “I want you to know how sorry we are.”
Amal nodded, brushing the tears from her eyes. “Do you think it was suicide? The guilt he must have carried to take his own life.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “Whatever it is, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Life is as you yourself make it.
– GHANAIAN PROVERB –
Bulla Regia, Tunisia
I feel like we’re intruding,” Remi said in the car as Sam parked in the graveled drive of the university house Renee shared with the other archeologists.
She must have been watching out the window because a moment later Sam saw the front door open. Renee, leaning on one of her crutches, stood at the threshold, looking at them. “Don’t forget, Remi. She called you. You’re here for moral support.”
“I know. Remember, nothing about the books. I don’t want to add to her stress.” She leaned over, kissed him, then slid out of the car.
Sam didn’t follow. Instead, he pulled out his phone, pretending to be studiously reading an email, in order to give them a few moments of privacy. He hadn’t known Warren all that well, but from what Remi told him, Renee had been close to the man.
After a few minutes, Remi waved him over and he walked up to the door, offering his condolences.
“Thank you,” Renee said. “It helps to have old friends around. And thanks for bringing Remi out. Especially after everything the two of you have been through.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Sam said, earning a smile from his wife. “Have the police said anything else?”
“No,” she said, using her crutch to cross the room, taking a seat on the couch. “I’m sure I’ll hear more today. Amal’s crushed. Hank, thank goodness, is keeping his head about him, even though I left him stranded at the airport. After finding Warren, I totally forgot I was supposed to pick him up.”
“What happened?” Remi asked.
“Where do I even start?”
“The beginning,” Sam said.
“That would be the phone call from José about the break-in.” She pulled her phone from her pocket, showing Remi a photo. “The theft of Echo.”
“They took the whole floor?” Remi asked.
“Worse,” she said as Remi handed the phone to Sam. “They hacked out her face. You can see it in the next photo. We were lucky they didn’t completely destroy the floor taking it out. There was a significant crack running along the tree she’s leaning against, which sort of helped them.”
Sam enlarged the photo on the screen, seeing a young woman in white, her hair pulled back with bands in a classical Grecian style, peering at something just beyond the tree she hid behind. He scrolled to the next photo, where Echo’s face had been hacked out. Though the mosaic was many hundreds of years old, the colors were still vibrant. “Let’s hope the police find it.”
“Items sold on the antiquities black market don’t often resurface.”
“You think Warren stole it?” Remi asked.
She nodded. “The police believe he was trying to steal another section of the mosaic the next day when he died. They found the chisel beneath his body.”
“An accident?”
“So it would seem. After the other suspicious happenings around here, I did some searching on my own. I found a listing for Echo on a website that I know Warren’s used in the past. In hindsight, I should’ve called the police the moment I saw the listing. But Hank didn’t want to wait. He was hoping to get there before the mosaic disappeared. Who knows what else they stole after digging around in the rubble.” She gave a sigh. “Needless to say, Hank’s still upset about it.”
Hank walked in from the hallway, overhearing her. “I’m just grateful you weren’t hurt. Who knows what might have happened had you caught him in the act.” He gestured to Sam and Remi. “It seems we’ve all had our share of problems. LaBelle told me everything the two of you have been through. I can’t imagine how harrowing that must have been for everyone involved.”
“For now, everyone’s safe,” Sam said. “We’re hoping they catch whoever was behind it.”
“Let’s hope they do,” he said.
Renee used her crutch to pull herself up. “Who wants a cup of coffee?” she said, her smile overly bright.
“Sit,” Hank said. “I’ll get coffee for everyone.”
“How’s your ankle?” Remi asked as he left.
“Much better.” She lifted her pant leg, showing off a bruise that was turning yellow. “The doctor wants me to rest it a few more days.”
“So listen to him,” Hank called out from the kitchen.
“Easier said than done. I’m almost on a first name basis with the police, with everything that’s gone on.”
“Hank’s right,” Remi said. “You need rest. Come stay with us. You can keep me company by the pool. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”
“As divine as that sounds, I have a video conference with the university tomorrow and a ton of paperwork.”
Remi leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Just angle your phone camera so they don’t know you’re actually poolside drinking Bloody Marys. Besides, Sam has a meeting himself tomorrow, so you can keep me company.”
“I can’t,” Renee said as Hank returned.
“Seriously?” Hank handed her a mug of steaming coffee. “How often do old friends drop by?” He looked over at Remi, saying, “I’ll personally drop LaBelle off at your hotel tomorrow morning. Sometimes she’s overdedicated to her job.”
“It’s settled,” Remi said, taking her friend’s hand in hers. “You’re coming to stay with me.”
Sam leaned back in his chair, watching Renee LaBelle’s face. Curiously, she seemed less than enthused at Remi’s anno
uncement. Which was odd, considering the two women were fast friends.
Back at their hotel later that night, he pointed this out to Remi.
She dismissed his assessment entirely. “After finding Warren dead, I doubt anyone would act normal. Honestly, Fargo, I think you’re being a bit paranoid.”
“Pragmatic, not paranoid,” he replied. “There’s a discrepancy in the books, Warren’s dead, and, like it or not, you’ve got to talk to her about it. Tomorrow.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
While the sun is shining, bask in it.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Late the following morning, beneath the shade of a large umbrella, Remi and Renee settled into their lounge chairs, two Bloody Marys on the table between them.
Remi picked up her glass, looking over at her friend. “Tell the truth. Aren’t you glad you came?”
She took a deep breath. “I needed this. Every time the phone rings, I jump. I haven’t been able to sleep since I saw Warren at the bottom of the villa, his blood all over the mosaic, and all I kept thinking about was that this is all my fault.”
“How can it be your fault?”
She again picked up her drink, stirring the stalk of celery in the glass. “As I said, the police think he came to steal another piece of the mosaic when he fell. The deck repair wasn’t quite finished. It is now, but I should have had made sure it was done before I left.”
“That’s hardly your fault.”
“How could he have been so desperate that he couldn’t come to me if he needed money? I know it wasn’t drugs, so what was it that drove him to steal?”
“Maybe he had a gambling problem.”
“Maybe …” The two women sipped their drinks in silence, staring out at the pool, where a middle-aged man was swimming a slow lap down the length. “What I really need is to get back to work. I’m worried the university’s going to find out about Warren’s death, the embezzlement, my accident, then cut their funding and send us all home before we finish.”
The Oracle Page 24