She dropped it back in the bag, and tied the other around her ponytail. “Laugh all you want. A good scarf always comes in handy.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He picked up his backpack, heavier now that it contained a coil of rope, in addition to his binoculars and two bottles of water. He slung it over his shoulder. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She smiled at Nikos, giving him a hug. “We’ll be back soon.”
He nodded, then turned and extended his hand to Sam. “Be careful, my friends.”
“We will.”
Nikos helped them lower the skiff into the water, then stood at the railing, watching as Sam and Remi rowed toward a small, pebbled beach.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Sam disembarked, helping Remi out, then looked at the narrow trail leading up between the cliffs. “At least we know he’s here,” he said.
“Do you think we’ll have any chance of finding him?”
“Let’s hope.” He examined the dry, rocky soil, surprised to see two sets of footprints, one much smaller than the other. “From the look of these tracks, I’d say Zoe’s with him.”
“What was he thinking, bringing her here?”
Looking over at her, he said, “Imagine a guy letting a girl talk him into doing something he shouldn’t.”
She crossed her arms. “I was being rhetorical.”
“The good news,” he said, standing, “is that it doesn’t look like either of them are too worried about being followed. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch up with them before they get into trouble.”
About twenty minutes later, the graveled path veered north and inland. It was, as Nikos described, very rugged, and all too soon, Sam lost their trail completely. When the route eventually branched off into more than one direction, Sam suggested they backtrack to make sure he hadn’t
missed anything.
“Go on,” Remi said. “I’ll catch up.”
He looked back to find her in the shade of a rocky outcropping, kneeling to untie the laces on one of her boots. If he had to guess, her shoes were giving her blisters. She did not complain, he had to give her that. “I’ll wait. Just be careful where you choose to sit. An island this remote, there’s probably any number of things we wouldn’t want to run into.”
“Please don’t say snakes.”
“I wasn’t. But now that you mention it.”
She turned a dark glance at him.
“The least of your worries,” he said, crouching to examine the trail again. “Trust me.”
“What could be worse than snakes?”
“Scorpions. Extremely painful. And possibly deadly if you’re allergic.”
She eyed the ground, her gaze darting from rock to rock. “If this is your way of helping me relax, it’s not working.”
“Were you thinking about snakes?”
“No.”
“See? It worked.”
“Very amusing, Fargo.” She hurriedly finished tying her shoelaces, then suddenly looked up. “Do you hear that?”
In fact, he did. A sharp breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding olive trees. As it died down, the scuffing of heavy feet on hard-packed earth grew louder.