She had failed them.
Makao eyed the girls, then turned toward Remi, his gaze boring into her. “Where are the rest? All the others?”
“We’re the only ones here. Everyone else left this morning. To Jalingo.”
“You expect me to believe the entire school is gone?”
“Believe what you will. They’re not here.”
He called one of his men over. “Ask Dayo if any cars came down from the school.”
The man nodded as he pulled out his cell phone and moved off to make a call.
If Makao had someone watching the road, it had to be at the tea farm at the bottom of the hill. Hoping she was wrong, she glanced over at Zara, glad to see the child hadn’t realized the danger to her father.
With only one road in and out, they’d never get past the farm without being seen—assuming they could even escape.
A moment later, the man returned. “No cars since the Land Rover left this morning.”
Makao glared at her. “You lie.”
“Think whatever you want,” Remi said. “They’re gone. We’re all that’s left.”
He stared at her a moment, then stalked up to the girls. “Where are they?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” Zara said, bursting into tears. “When I woke up, everyone was gone.”
The raw and painful truthfulness convinced him in a way nothing else could. He turned back to Remi.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I think that’d be obvious. I hope you know someone with enough money to buy your freedom.”
“If you think my husband will turn over one cent without proof of life for each one of us, you’re making a grave mistake.”
He laughed. “We just need to keep you alive long enough to collect the ransom. After that, I don’t care much about what my men do to you.”
“You harm one child and—”
He stalked over, grabbing her by her collar, pulling her until she was inches from his face. “If you knew what was good for you, you’d shut your mouth and cooperate. Am I clear?”
He twisted her collar so hard, she felt a prickling sensation across her face from the loss of circulation. “Very.”
Finally, he loosened his grip on her shirt, his face filled with disgust as he shoved her back against the building. “Tie them up. I don’t want anyone getting away. Then search the buildings again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Sticks in a bundle are unbreakable.
– KENYAN PROVERB –
Nasha lifted the burlap sacks she’d hidden beneath and crept from the corner, listening to the men walking around in the courtyard outside the supply shed. She glanced at the trapdoor, saw it was securely closed, wondering if Mr. Pete and Miss Wendy would even notice she was gone. Probably not, she decided. She wasn’t like the other girls.
People tended not to notice her.
It was, after all, what made her a successful thief.
Then again, Mr. Hank had noticed her. But only because she’d stolen his keys. She didn’t feel the least bit of guilt over seeing him leave, though she was sad to see Mr. Fargo go. He also tended to watch her closely, yet she sensed that he was different. He watched his wife closely, too.