Remi ended the call, looking very pleased as she set her phone on the desk. “That went well.”
“Did I miss the part where we were supposed to be talking about the missing money?”
“We’ll look at the books in Tunisia before flying out to the school. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
He hoped she was right, because saying “I told you so” to your wife was never a good idea.
CHAPTER TWO
Return to old watering holes for more than water;
friends and dreams are there to meet you.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Bulla Regia, Tunisia
A light breeze swept in as Sam and Remi leaned against their rented Audi RS at the edge of the archeological park. Sam looked at his watch, a few minutes past eleven. “You’re sure Dr. LaBelle said ten-thirty?”
“Positive.” Remi took out her phone and tried calling. “Voice mail. Do you think we should drive around and look for her? I’m sure this is where she said to meet.”
Sam put his arm around her shoulders. “We can wait. How often does a guy get to stand close to a beautiful girl beneath a gorgeous blue sky?”
“Good point, Fargo,” she said, leaning into him.
About ten minutes later, a midsize blue SUV pulled up.
Renee hopped out, waving to them. “Sorry. Warren normally takes over the supervision of our graduate students midmorning, but he never showed and I totally lost track of time.” She quickly closed the distance, hugging Remi. “Rem-rem. So good to see you. I swear, you haven’t aged a bit since the two of you got married.”
“Nay-nay,” Remi said and smiled. “How long has it been since we’ve heard those names?”
“Graduation,” they said at the same time, then started laughing.
Both women had emerged with a master’s in anthropology and history, though Remi’s focus had been on ancient trade routes and Renee’s in archeology. And, other than the two being slim, they looked nothing alike. Remi, with green eyes and red hair, stood a half head taller than the petite blond-haired, blue-eyed Renee. Their first names, however, had caused quite a bit of confusion for their unfortunate professors—and most of their friends—quite simply because they were always together and the two names were so similar. When someone dubbed them Rem-rem and Nay-nay to avoid any confusion, the nicknames stuck up until Renee left Boston College to pursue her Ph.D. in archeology.
Remi linked her arm through Renee’s. “It’s been far too long,” she said, still feeling a bit sensitive over the real reason they were meeting. “No problems taking the time off? To come out to the school?”
“The timing’s perfect. No one’s going to miss us for a few days.” Renee smiled at Sam. “You’re sure you don’t mind us tagging along, Sam?”
“Looking forward to it.”
Renee laughed at the look he gave Remi. “Just not to the same degree, perhaps?”
Sam winked at her. “Happy wife, happy life.”
“You married a smart man, Remi.” She laughed again, then nodded toward the rolling hills and blue sky in the distance. “That’s where we’re headed. Before we drive out there, I thought you might want to see some of the older digs first. You have time, I hope?”
“Nothing planned,” Sam said.
“Perfect. They’ve made a lot of progress restoring the mosaics since our college days.” She grabbed her shoulder bag from her car, locked the car, and led them toward the entrance.
Because an earthquake destroyed much of the city, little remained of the villas except for the occasional column, the crumbling walls, and the theater, where the bishop Augustine had once harangued the citizens of Bulla Regia for living in a sinkhole of iniquity. The ruins of what had been two-story Roman luxury villas were unprepossessing. The ground level had been occupied in the winter so residents were able to take advantage of the warmth from the sun. In the summer, they took refuge from the intense heat in the underground chambers, many of which survived the massive quake.
Renee led them along the ancient paving stones, talking about the history of the site, then paused along the way to point out the striking detail of some of the mosaic work of the paths they were walking on. Renee led them along the ancient stones, talking about the history of the site, when Remi stopped, pointing to a group of people in the distance. “Could that be Warren and Amal?”
Sam glanced up as the woman and three men disappeared behind some ruins.
Renee shaded her eyes, looking that direction as well. “That certainly looked like Amal. She gives tours to earn extra money for school. I can’t think why Warren would be there, though. Especially when he knew you were coming, and I needed him at the excavation site this morning.” She gave one last look that direction, then led them toward a low rectangular parapet. “Careful,” she said as they peered down some twenty feet below into a peristyle courtyard supported by six granite columns. Above the columns were large hexagonal windows, which let light into the subterranean corridors. “This is one of my favorites,” she said as they descended the stairs into the heart of the villa. She stood off to one side, allowing them to see the splendor of the richly colored floor mosaics.