Pirate (Fargo Adventures 8)

“Sam Fargo. We were supposed to meet. Where are you?”

Several seconds of silence, then, “The silos . . . I’m—I think I’ve been robbed.”

Nigel’s voice sounded groggy to Sam, and when he tried to ask where these silos were, he heard a soft beep as the phone disconnected. Sam returned inside the restaurant and saw Remi talking to the diners who’d been on Nigel’s tour. He started toward her but stopped when he saw the hostess returning to her station. “Where would I find the silos?” he asked her.

“Silos? They?

??re gone.”

“Gone?”

“Demolished several years back. Why?”

“If someone said they were at the silos, where would that be?”

“Just down the road.” She pointed south. “Can’t miss it. The lots are still empty.”

He realized she was talking about the vacant lots this side of Devil’s Alley. Remi returned just then, and Sam drew her outside. “Something’s happened to Nigel,” he said as they walked in the direction indicated. “He said he was robbed.”

“Has he called the police?”

“Not sure. You find out anything?”

“Not much. He was here but took off in a hurry.”

Sam took Remi’s arm as he quickened his pace, almost missing the pathway due to the thick fog. He stopped, listened, hearing nothing but the rhythmic splashing of water.

“What are we doing here?” Remi whispered.

“He said he was at the silos.”

“There aren’t any silos here.”

“There used to be.” He took her hand and led her down the path. Unfortunately, they couldn’t see more than a few yards in front and he stopped. “Nigel?”

No answer.

Sam turned at the sound of footsteps but couldn’t see anyone in the thick fog. Whoever it was continued on around the corner, their footsteps fading in the distance.

“Listen,” Remi said. “I think I hear something.”

Sam heard it, too. Coming from somewhere to their left in the lot. “Wait here,” he said, then climbed over the cable barrier that marked the pedestrian path. He took out his phone, turned on the flashlight. Sparse, long weeds and grasses grew on the rocky soil, looking undisturbed as far as he could see. But as he walked a bit farther, he noticed the grass and weeds were trampled, the rocky soil disturbed. Drag marks, he realized. He followed along, reaching a thick growth of shrubs near the adjoining building. Something rattled the branches down low.

He leaned down, shined his flashlight into the bushes, and saw Nigel, blinking against the light. “I found him!”

Nigel struggled to sit, looking confused. He touched the back of his head, then winced.

“You okay?” Sam asked as Remi joined them.

“I think so. Did we just talk?”

“On the phone.”

“Right.”

Sam held his hand out, and Nigel grabbed on, allowing Sam to help him to his feet. “Think you can walk?”

“Yes.” He took a step, then swayed.