Sam’s glance strayed toward Remi, who stood in the cabin watching him through the window. Despite her show of bravado as she’d accompanied him through the rugged terrain, tracking and rescuing Dimitris and Zoe, that fire he’d seen in her eyes was gone. In retrospect, he should have tried harder to convince her to return to the Asteri without him. “Thanks for your help. I’ll go break the news.”
Sam returned Remi’s phone to her. “I just got word that there’s going to be an official investigation.”
“Into what?” Remi asked.
“Everything. The kidnapping.” He looked at Zoe. “Your grandfather’s death. And the shooting tonight. That’s the good news,” he said focusing on Remi. “The bad news is that we’ll be needed for the inquest.”
“You mean we’re stuck here?” Then, as if realizing how that might sound, she glanced at Zoe, Dimitris, and Nikos. “I didn’t mean—”
Nikos smiled kindly at her. “Who can blame you?”
“Unfortunately,” Sam said to Nikos, “I have no idea how long it will take. But I’d be glad to rent the cottage so you won’t lose money on it.”
“Rent?” Nikos made a scoffing noise. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Outside, the sky turned a deep magenta with the rising sun. He widened his stance as he stood at the helm, his face looking worried. “Red sky at morning . . . From the looks of things, we’ll be lucky to make it back to Fourni before the storm hits.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The morning rain beat against the windowpanes outside Adrian Kyril’s office as he sat at his desk. He picked up the empty Grand Marnier, shaking the last few drops into his coffee cup, torn between searching for another in the kitchen or calling one of the last staff members left on the premises to get it for him. He’d fired all but one maid, the cook, Ilya, Fayez, and three of his men. And if he didn’t find a way to get more money soon, he’d have to get rid of them and the villa.
“A bit early for that, don’t you think?”
He looked up to see Ilya watching him from the doorway. “What do you want?”
“Apparently, you haven’t heard.”
“Heard what?”
“The incident involving the harvest trespasser. There was a shooting at the orchard. One man dead, two disarmed and tied up.”
A dull throbbing started behind his left eye. “What are you talking about? I thought Dimitris’s death was supposed to be an accident.”
“He escaped. It was one of the guards who was killed.”
The pain in his head turned sharp. “Is this going to come back on me?”
“They were trespassing. The guards were merely trying to defend themselves against what they thought was an attack. At least, that’ll be the official statement released should there be any inquiries. While we were hoping the escapees were killed in a boating accident, sadly that doesn’t appear to be the case.”
“Again? You thought that the last time.”
“It seems we were a bit too quick to assume—”
Both men looked up when Adrian’s girlfriend knocked on the open door. “Where is everyone?” Phoebe asked.
“I told you,” Adrian said, his eyes dropping to her belly, failing to see any signs of an impending child. He had a feeling his mother was wrong, but he wasn’t about to anger her further and get rid of the woman. “We’ve had to make some cutbacks.”
“How am I supposed to get to the village, then?”
“You’ll have to wait or drive yourself.”
“In the rain?”
“Yes. In the rain,” he replied, having no patience for her theatrics.
Her gaze flicked from him to Ilya, then the phone he held. “I won’t be home for dinner, then.” She turned and left.
As her footsteps receded, Ilya walked to the door and looked out, apparently making sure she was really gone. “Are you sure you can afford her?”
“I have more important things to worry about than Phoebe. What about Sam Fargo? How do I deal with him?”