The Solomon Curse (Fargo Adventures 7) - Page 79

The woman clearly wanted more assurance, but the manager turned and disappeared into the back office, leaving a small throng of worried guests to pepper the reception clerk with questions. The woman, no more than twenty-five, did her best, but her answers were even hollower than the manager’s.

Sam and Remi watched the assault for several minutes and then moved to the empty restaurant, where a lone waiter took their order. When he’d gone to the kitchen, Sam shook his head.

“This makes no sense at all. People are losing it for no reason. Nothing on the island has changed except for an isolated incident of lunatic behavior,” he said.

“Maybe we’re just more used to craziness than the average person,” Remi suggested.

Sam looked through the large window at the parking lot, which boasted only a few cars, theirs included, along with two sleepy-looking security guards.

“It could be this is a classic case of man bites dog. News that everything’s fine doesn’t really grab your attention like warnings that there’s an imminent emergency.”

“Seems to me you’re downplaying the danger.”

Sam shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just pointing out that aside from the murders, nothing else has happened.”

“What about whoever was watching the boat? That happened.”

“It did, but as far as we know that was just a curious islander. The car wasn’t touched. No harm came to it. Of course we were paranoid after being run off the road, but

it doesn’t mean that every new face is a homicidal enemy.”

“The guy in the lobby?”

“Who did nothing but give me a weird vibe? A nonevent.”

Remi sighed. “You can’t dismiss our hotel room being broken into.”

“Of course not. Of everything, other than being shot at by rebels, that’s the most disturbing—although there was an obvious motive. Poverty is serious here.”

They ate in silence, the large dining room quiet as a tomb. When they finished, they paid the bill and moved back to the hotel entrance, where the manager was waiting for them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fargo, not to be alarmist, but I was here for the last civil unrest. It was . . . Words cannot describe how ugly it got. And it happened very quickly. Before it was over, half of Honiara was in flames. At the risk of repeating myself, I’d really look at leaving the island until things settle down.”

Remi took Sam’s hand. “Thank you for your concern. We’ll discuss our options this morning. But in the meantime, is there an electronics store anywhere around here that sells computers?”

The manager said, “Yes, a block and a half from the hospital, on the right-hand side. Sedgwick’s. Expensive, but well-stocked.”

“Sedgwick’s,” Sam repeated, the Toyota keys in his hand. “Very good.”

Sam and Remi could feel the manager’s eyes burning into their backs as they made their way to the SUV. The guards came awake at the sound of the big motor starting, and one of them raised the barrier that barred the driveway so Sam could pull out.

Remi pointed at a brightly painted two-story building on their right as they neared it. “That’s got to be it—Sedgwick’s.”

“Seems like a lot of people outside, don’t you think?

Remi took a hard look and nodded. “Keep going, Sam. That looks like trouble.”

Several dozen tough-looking islanders were thronging around the store entrance, which was protected by steel roll-up shutters. Several of the men had machetes, and one had a crowbar, his intent clear. Sam accelerated and gave the crowd wide berth, continuing on toward the road that led out of town.

“Maybe the manager isn’t being overly paranoid,” Remi conceded as she watched the men in her side mirror. “That looks like looting about to happen, doesn’t it?”

“I wonder where all the police are? We’re only, what, six blocks from the station?”

“Maybe they’re eating breakfast? Or dealing with other problems?”

Sam applied the brakes. “This looks bad, Remi.”

Thirty yards ahead, several hundred islanders were milling around a makeshift barricade. Black smoke belched from a drum by the side of the road, and two sedans were wrecked nearby. Their windows had been smashed in and glass dusted the surrounding pavement.

Tags: Clive Cussler Fargo Adventures Thriller
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