Wrath of Poseidon (Fargo Adventures 12)

“Never. What about your investor meeting? That’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Blake was right. Sam looked at the jumble of paperwork covering the desk, thinking about all the years of work he’d put in just to get his argon laser to the point where he could finally present it as a viable idea. He hesitated at the thought he was possibly giving up what had been a dream of his for as long as he could remember—investors of that type didn’t come along every day.

Then again, neither did women like Remi Longstreet.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Samos, Greece

Life on the smaller Greek islands, Sam quickly discovered, ran at a much slower pace than anywhere else. He was lucky that he arrived in Samos after his flight from Athens in time to catch the one ferry that stopped off at Fourni, since there wasn’t another until two days later. He boarded behind a group of young men and women, all dressed for hiking, following them up the stairs to the outside deck, willing everyone to hurry and the boat to move.

Finally, the ferry pulled out, and he leaned against the railing, the salt-tinged air blowing through his hair as the boat picked up speed. Had he been there as a tourist, he might have enjoyed the sight of the picturesque port of Pythagorio and the masts of the various sailing yachts moored within it. Above him, billowing white clouds in a blue sky accentuated the white houses terraced upon the hill, overlooking the water, where, farther out, several fishing boats headed in with the day’s catch. Sam, however, paid little attention. His mind was on his last conversation with Rube, whose preliminary investigation failed to turn up anything significant—other than confirming that Remi and her friend Dimitris were both missing. The Greek translator had only been able to pick out a few words on the voice recording, one of the men insisting that they needed to hurry. Another CIA analyst determined that the engine heard in the background belonged to a high-powered boat. They all agreed that a woman did say, “Where’s the North Star when you need it?”

None of that was enough for anyone to confirm that a kidnapping had actually taken place, though they had notified the FBI’s International Violent Crimes Unit. According to Rube, Sam’s only recourse was to let the local authorities conduct their own investigation.

Not that he was about to stand by and do nothing. Sam was glad to know Dimitris’s father felt the same. He’d already started his own search and welcomed Sam’s offer to help.

“Excuse me?”

Sam looked up to see a blond-haired woman from the tourist group standing beside him. She tried asking a question in halting Greek.

“American,” he said.

“Sorry. I figured you were a local. The backpack.” She nodded at the bag slung over his shoulder.

Sam nodded toward a small carry-on tucked under a bench. “Quick trip,” he said.

“Have you been to Fourni before?”

“My first time.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that means you don’t know the best place to eat lunch once we arrive.”

“Sadly, no.”

She held out her hand. “Emma,” she said, then cocked her head at the man on her right. “My husband, Geoff. With a G.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand. “Sam. With an S.”

She smiled, then moved to the railing, next to him, taking in the view. A few minutes later, her husband joined them, pointing to a large yacht floating in open water between the islands. “Someone important,” he said, lowering his sunglasses and looking out over the rims.

“And rich,” Emma replied. She pointed to a smaller yacht in the distance. “If we win the lotto, that’s the type of boat I want. Much more manageable.”

“That little thing? No. Definitely the big one,” Geoff said. He nodded to a long, black speedboat. “What do you suppose that costs?”

Sam glanced up as the sleek Omega 41 zipped past, then pulled up to the superyacht. “About four, five hundred thousand dollars.”

Emma laughed. “Sorry,

Geoff. You’ll have to win the lotto twice at that price. Guess it comes as a set.”

Sam listened with half an ear as the couple discussed other vessels they’d buy with their imagined lotto winnings. His mind, however, was solely on Remi Longstreet and the odd call from her phone, hoping it was all one big misunderstanding. Surely they’d joke about it when he got there, she pointing out the fact he didn’t speak Greek, and how could he ever have imagined anything was wrong?

His hopes for an alternate reality were dashed when the ferry docked an hour later. Emma and Geoff waved goodbye as they followed their group down the ramp. As the crowd thinned, Sam noticed a man wearing a blue ball cap, standing off to one side on the dock. Recognizing the logo on his hat as being from the Fourni Underwater Archeological Preservation Society, Sam approached. “Nikos?”

The gray-haired man gave a grim smile. “Sam Fargo?” They shook hands. “Do you have luggage?”

He held up his backpack. “Just the carry-on. I travel light.”