You’re sure those are the same two men?” Sam asked.
Remi, not wanting to alarm Renee, who was sitting just a few feet away, kept her smile intact. “Almost positive.”
“That changes about everything. It definitely makes you wonder what Warren was really involved in.”
The officers took statements from the Fargos and Renee, talked to a couple of poolside witnesses, and asked for any surveillance videos management might have. After they left, Sam, Remi, and Renee retreated to the restaurant for lunch.
Renee, Remi noticed, kept shifting around in her seat anytime anyone walked in or out of the restaurant. “You’re safe now,” Remi said.
“How do you know anyone here isn’t one of them?” she asked, then nodded out the window toward the pool. “Or anyone out there?”
Remi again smiled. “Sam has his back to the wall. No one’s getting in or out without him seeing.”
When their food was served, Renee picked at the meal, unable to eat. Finally, she pushed her plate away. “I’ll call Hank to pick me up. I can’t stay here after this.”
“I’m so sorry,” Remi said, wishing she could reassure her friend that this was an isolated incident, not likely to repeat itself. “But we can take you back, can’t we, Sam?”
He drew his attention from the door, looking over at them, along with their unfinished plates. His plate was empty. “Might be for the best. Why don’t you two go up to the room, get her things, and meet me out front.”
They were on the road within fifteen minutes.
Renee, quiet during the drive, perked up as they neared the archeological park. “Since my ankle keeps me out of the field, I can definitely get some paperwork done. I don’t suppose you want to sit down with those books now, do you?”
Sam looked back at her in the rearview mirror. “If you think you’re up for it. It’s not like Remi and I have anything better to do.”
“Good. That’ll be a weight off my shoulders once we get everything reconciled.”
Sam pulled up in front of the small house at the bottom of the olive grove. The three walked up the graveled drive to the door, where Renee inserted a key in the lock. “You’ll have to forgive the mess,” she said, standing aside to let them in. “They sort of tossed the place during the burglary.”
“Anything stolen from the house?” Remi asked.
“Not that we can tell, thank goodness.”
Once inside, she leaned her crutches against the wall, switched on the portable air conditioner, and sat at the desk. “Pull up a chair,” she said.
Sam and Remi took the seats opposite her, while she swiveled around to look at the bookshelf on the wall behind her. “Okay, where is it?” She leaned forward, scrutinizing the shelves, pulling out several green ledgers, turning around and placing them on the desk in front of her. She opened each one, scanned the first page, then shoved it aside. “That’s odd. I don’t see it. The ledger with the discrepancies in it.”
Sam and Remi exchanged glances.
Renee looked up, her expression worn, tense. “I’m just so sorry to have roped you into this.”
“It’s not your fault,” Remi said, kicking the side of Sam’s shoe, “is it, Sam?”
“Of course not.” He turned to the window. “You know, while you two look for the missing book, I think I’ll head down to the site, see what Hank’s up to. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him since we’ve been back.”
Remi watched him walk out the door, wondering what he was really looking for.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
If you observe attentively, you will even find wisdom in shadows.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Sam strolled down the rocky path and through the open gate, where Amal, Osmond, and José were kneeling at a shallow excavation. Nasha sat next to Amal, watching as the team gently brushed the dust of centuries away from small protrusions in the dirt. At one point, Amal handed her brush to the girl, showing her how to work it without displacing the shards.
Nasha looked up, saw Sam, and held up the brush. “Look. I’m being an archeologist.”
He crouched down beside them to see what they were working on. “Find anything yet?”