“Between you and me? I expect they have too many friends in high places, and without hard evidence, this case isn’t going anywhere.”
“So what happens now?”
“Formally, we add a supplemental to what we have on file, let the local authorities handle it, and move on. It’s out of our jurisdiction. Now that your friends are out of danger, and it isn’t a national security issue, it goes to the bottom of the pile.”
“That’s it? They get away with it?”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, Fargo, but maybe it’s time to call it a day. Return to the States and get on with your lives.”
As much as Sam had tried to convince Remi to leave, she had already made it clear that she planned on staying until the police had made an arrest. “I’m not sure that’ll go over well.”
“Regardless, there’s nothing much any of you can do.”
“Let’s say I decide to do some digging on my own. Any suggestions on how best to go about it?”
“My formal suggestion? Stay far away from this group. They’re dangerous.” Rube paused and let out a deep sigh. “I know, I’m preaching to the choir. If you do find anything, turn it over to me. I’ll add it to the file. Beyond that, I can’t make any promises.”
Which wasn’t much help at all. “I don’t suppose you have anyone on speed dial who’s discreet and can help with some under-the-table research?”
“I might know a few people. Let me check with a couple of my associates. If I come across someone, I’ll contact you.”
“Thanks, Rube. Appreciate it.”
After ending the call, he walked over to Remi and Dimitris. They were about six planks into their game. On Remi’s next turn, the knife landed but didn’t stick, the blade skittering past its intended mark. “So close!” She looked up at Sam as she retrieved it. “What’d your friend say?”
“His first suggestion is to pack up and go home.”
She handed the knife to Dimitris, waiting for him to take his turn—a solid hit—before asking, “Why would we do that?”
“To start, it’s safer.”
Remi glanced over at him, then back to the game, throwing the knife. This time, it actually stuck. “Ha!”
“See?” Dimitris said. “You just needed a little oomph behind it. Try it again.”
She did. When it stuck with a solid thwack, she walked over, pulled it up, then returned to Sam’s side. “That can’t be all you talked about.”
“The Kyrils are blaming the kidnapping on pirates who were given access to the boat by their now-dead caretaker.”
“Dead caretaker? You know they’re lying.”
He eyed the weapon she held. “To be clear, I’m in complete agreement with you. Rube, however, suggests that we return to the States.”
“Exactly what my father said,” she said, handing the knife to Dimitris.
“In this case, I agree. You should probably go home.”
“Me? I thought you said we? I can’t just up and go home. Would you go home if this happened to you?”
“No, but that’s different.”
She crossed her arms, her green eyes narrowing. “Why?”
What could he say? He had a feeling she was expecting him to point out the obvious answer, that she was a woman and he a man.
But that wasn’t what he’d been thinking at all. Nor had it anything to do with the very real answer that, because of his training at DARPA, he was better suited to remain behind and look into things.
The truth, though, was nothing close to that.