Wrath of Poseidon (Fargo Adventures 12)

“The same one my daughter gives to me when she doesn’t like something I tell

her.” Her dark eyes sparkled as she reached out, clasping Remi’s hand. “You’ll make the right decision. I see it in your eyes.”

Helena’s daughter walked up at that moment. “Ignore her. When we get on the plane, she’ll find a new friend to torment.” Then, in Greek, added, “Mána. Don’t do this at the wedding. Please.”

Remi glanced at the woman, who seemed unfazed by her daughter’s mild rebuke as she gathered her bag, then followed her to two available seats in the waiting area.

With almost an hour to go until her own plane boarded, Remi settled back in her chair to wait. The longer she sat there, however, the more she heard the woman’s parting refrain: You’ll make the right decision.

What decision? Definitely not about moving home. That was never going to happen. Thirty minutes later, a loudspeaker overhead announced her flight. She got in line, handed over her ticket, then walked out the door to her plane.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

Once Remi was safely on her way, Sam spent the next several days being interviewed by Interpol agents about every aspect of the case involving Adrian Kyril—from the time Sam arrived on Fourni after receiving Remi’s call to the moment they were trapped in the tunnel on Megalos Anthropofas after Minerva Kyril’s helicopter appeared.

At least there was some good news. With the death of Minerva Kyril, and the cooperation of her husband, not only were the Greek authorities finally able to shut down the drug empire, but they’d figured out how Minerva, the brains behind the operation, had managed to transport the heroin. The key had been those glass tubes Sam had reported seeing in the warehouse. The heroin was sealed inside the tubes, then placed inside the tins, which were filled with olive oil. That, in turn, made a nonpermeable barrier around the drugs, preventing them from being detected. So, while her husband was running the legitimate olive oil business, she had been smuggling drugs right beneath his nose.

After more than a week, with the close of the investigation, they informed Sam he was free to return home, with the stipulation that he and Remi would both need to return to testify when the case went to court.

None of that mattered to Sam. His mind had been on Remi. After she’d left, the cottage, the island, everything seemed far too quiet. It gave him too much time to think about what he might have done to change the way things ended between them, or what he might have said that would have made a difference. He’d called a couple of days after she’d departed, just to check up on her. When she didn’t answer, he left a voice mail asking her to call back. Two days later, after no response, he decided to send a text: Did you make it home?

She texted back two words: Yes. Thanks.

His instinct was that he needed to let her be. And so he did. Remi had his number. She’d call or she wouldn’t. The choice had to be hers.

When the day finally came for him to leave Fourni, he slung his backpack over his shoulder, grabbed his carry-on and walked down to the port. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness when he saw Manos, Denéa, Zoe, Dimitris, and Nikos waiting for him on the dock. He shook hands with Manos, then smiled at Denéa. “Thanks for all your help and with Remi.”

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll miss her. And you.”

Dimitris gave a sheepish smile as he held out his hand. “If not for you . . .”

Sam shook the young man’s hand. “Glad I could be there for you. Take care of Zoe.”

“I will.”

“And you,” he said to Zoe after giving her a hug, “take care of Dimitris.”

She nodded, blushing as Dimitris put his arm around her.

Nikos clasped Sam’s shoulder. “I can never thank you enough, my friend.”

“No thanks needed.” He reached into his backpack, pulling out the holstered Smith & Wesson, handing it to Nikos. “For such a small handgun, that thing packed a good punch. I liked it better than I thought I would.”

“You should take it.”

“As much as I’d love to, I can’t accept such an expensive gift. I am honored you trusted me with it.”

“There’s no one else I’d trust more. I’ll mail it to you.”

“Don’t—”

“Too late. Maybe you’ll save another life with it.” He smiled. “Take care. If you’re ever out this way again . . .” Nikos grabbed him in a bear hug. “There are no words. You are my friend and there is always room at our table.”

Sam nodded, started to walk toward the ferry, when Dimitris elbowed Zoe.

“Wait,” she said. “I almost forgot.” She held out a small pouch. “For you.”

“What is it?”