Wrath of Poseidon (Fargo Adventures 12)
Page 38
“Excuse me,” Remi asked the waiter. “Who is the gentleman?”
He glanced in that direction. “Adrian Kyril.”
Sam waited until he left, saying, “No doubt Adrian Kyril Jr. A little young to be the patriarch we were reading about.”
“He has to be behind the theft of my camera from the boat. That’s the only explanation. Especially considering we were kidnapped a few hours later.”
“What were the photos of?”
“Nothing memorable. Birds, landscape. The memory card. I changed it right after I saw them.”
“Do you still have it?”
“It was in my pocket when they took us aboard the Mirage. As far as I know, it ended up at the bottom of the Aegean after our mummy dive.”
“I’d say either you caught a photo of something he didn’t want you to see, or they think you did.”
“Certainly the obvious answer, but of what? They were just standing there.”
“Maybe Adrian Sr. was telling the truth. He really didn’t know anything about the kidnapping. Junior, on the other hand.” Sam watched the man a few moments more. “Let’s hope he doesn’t make the connection, should you two cross paths tonight.”
“I’ll definitely avoid him,” she said as Adrian set the microphone on the table, shook hands with a few nearby guests, then started walking directly at them.
Worried that he might recognize Remi after all, Sam drew her to him, leaned down, putting his mouth to her ear. He was captivated by her warmth, the scent of her hair and the desire to never let her go. He whispered, “I swear there’s a good reason for this.”
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling herself tight against him, wishing they were anywhere else. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls you help rescue from kidnappers’ yachts.”
“Every one of them.”
Adrian continued past, stopping when one of the men wearing an earpiece approached him, holding out an envelope. The billionaire’s son looked around, clearly concerned about who might see him. As his glance rested on Sam, Sam lifted Remi’s chin, kissing her. The man’s gaze swept past, and he slipped the envelope into his pocket, dismissed the guard, then crossed the patio toward the south staircase.
Reluctantly, they separated and Sam led Remi to the craps table, telling her what he’d seen. They positioned themselves with a view of the stairs, Sam saying, “Whatever was in that envelope, he seemed anxious to get rid of it.”
Within moments, a light went on in the second-story window to their left. Less than a minute later, it darkened again. When Adrian appeared on the stairs, the guard held aside the velvet rope at the bottom, allowing him to pass. Remi pulled a few chips from her bag, pretending interest in the game. “What do you suppose that was all about?”
“I have no idea. But I’m definitely curious. Are you sure you can avoid him while I get upstairs?”
She looked around, nodding. “There’s enough people here to stay lost in the crowd.”
He put his hand on the
small of her back, looking her in the eye. “No matter what, do not go up. If anything happens to me, get out, find Nikos and Dimitris.”
“Got it. Stay here, go for help if anything happens.”
“Promise me.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Promise.”
He leaned down and gave her the swiftest of kisses. After leaving his untouched champagne flute on a tray, he wandered toward the staircase, grateful to see the guard had moved off to deal with some unknown incident. Sam was about to slip past the rope barrier when two men in tuxedos walked toward him. One said something to him in Greek.
“Sorry,” Sam said. “American.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for a bathroom.”
“This way.” One of the men indicated Sam should follow, then led him to the pool house.