Pirate (Fargo Adventures 8)

“I’d prefer he didn’t know I was here,” Alexandra icily replied.

“That’s what I thought.” He started for the door, then looked back at Nigel. “If he makes a sound, kill him. I’m sure we can always find another translator.”

“We are not killing anyone right now,” Alexandra said. “You realize there are guests right next to us?”

“Then kill them, too. Just don’t get caught.”

Forty-six

Alexandra followed Fisk from the room. “We need to talk,” she said, quickening her pace to keep up with him as he strode down the hallway.

He glanced back at her but didn’t stop. “Later. I’m in a hurry.”

A maid came around the corner, her attention on the ice bucket with champagne bottle that she was carrying. Fisk barreled into her, knocking the bucket and bottle from her grasp and sending the coat flying from his. He landed against a potted palm, nearly toppling it.

The poor girl’s eyes widened as he swore at her. “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t see you there.”

“Apparently,” he said as he bent down and swooped up his coat, then stormed off.

Alexandra followed through the lobby, but he stopped her at the door, turning toward her, his voice lowered so that only she could hear. “What part of ‘I’m in a hurry’ did you not get?”

“You’re not going to kill anybody,” she whispered. “Not here. The room’s in my name.”

“You wanted to be part of this. That means you play by my rules. If and when I find it necessary to eliminate someone, I make that decision. Not you, not Jak or Ivan. Me. Do I make myself clear?”

Shaken by his anger, she nodded, then walked back through the lobby and down the hallway, where the maid was down on the floor, picking up ice cubes from the carpet and dumping them into the bucket.

The young woman looked up at her, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, as she apologized. “I didn’t see him.”

“It’s not your fault,” Alexandra said, feeling sorry for her. She started to reach for the champagne bottle that had rolled into the corner by the potted palm. When she bent down to pick it up, she noticed something in the base of the potted palm. The cipher wheel.

She left the bottle where it was. “Let me help,” she said as she started scooping some of the ice into a small pile near the palm. “It really was our fault. We were arguing and didn’t see you.”

“No. You shouldn’t trouble yourself. I’ll clean this.”

Alexandra moved in front of the palm, blocking the maid’s view. She shoved the wheel into the dirt and covered it, then picked up the champagne bottle, holding it toward the maid.

“Thank you,” the girl said, taking the bottle from her as Fisk rounded the corner.

He stopped, appearing surprised to see Alexandra and the maid still there.

“Forget something?” Alexandra asked.

“Dropped something.” He walked around them, his gaze on the floor.

When he reached the palm, pulling back the fronds to look behind it, Alexandra tried to keep her breathing even.

He looked up at her. “You didn’t find anything here, did you?”

“No. What is it you’re looking for?”

“Maybe it’s in the room,” he said, then strode that way.

Alexandra smiled at the maid, worried about her safety if she happened to walk past their room at the wrong moment. “Whoever opens this is going to have quite a surprise. Have you ever seen a champagne bottle that’s been dropped?”

“I didn’t think of that. I should change it out.”

She left, and Alexandra returned to the room in time to see Fisk searching under the bed. “Maybe if you told us what you lost, we might be able to help look.”