The Oracle (Fargo Adventures 11)

Amal stopped. “I …” She took a deep breath and looked at Remi, her smile fading as the scent of incense grew overwhelming. “I …” Her knees buckled and she sank to the ground, landing in a heap between her bags.

“Amal.” Remi kneeled down beside her, checking for a pulse. Relieved when she found one, she scooped Amal into her arms as the passersby gave them wide berth. “Amal,” she said, nearly choking on the strong incense herself as the smoke drifted up and over their heads.

A tall man with white hair and a goatee stepped out of the shop, saw them. “Do you need help?” he asked in French.

“I think she needs fresh air.”

He nodded and picked up Amal, carrying her to a bench a few doors down. Remi grabbed the shopping bags and followed. “Merci, Monsieur …?”

“Cussler,” he said. “Would you like me to call the medics?”

“I think we’ll be fine. Thank you.”

He waited until he was sure Amal was okay, then returned to the shop. Remi patted Amal’s cheek as the younger woman came to. “Are you okay?”

It took a moment before Amal answered. “I … I think so. One of my attacks, no doubt. One minute we were walking, the next I felt as though I’d stepped into another world. At first, I was looking down at water, seeing my reflection. But I realized I was really beneath the water, looking up.” She sat up on her own, looking toward the shop. “I shoul

d know better than walking too close to that incense. I never could abide the stuff. It always made me feel … But this was different. Like a sense of panic.”

Panic? Or more of a distraction because she knew that Remi had followed her?

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

A patient person never misses a thing.

– SWAHILI PROVERB –

Amal seemed anxious,” Remi said, calling out from the bathroom.

Sam, seated on the sofa in their hotel suite, heard Lazlo knock at the door. “About what?” he asked, getting up to answer it.

“I have no idea. From the moment we arrived to the moment she snuck off, she wasn’t her usual self. Definitely hiding something.”

“She never said where she went?”

“Not a word. And I couldn’t really press the point when she fainted. I was more worried about getting her home after that.”

“If we get a chance, we can ask her tomorrow at the dinner.”

Remi walked out, clipping a barrette in her hair, as Sam and Lazlo took a seat at the table. “I’m not sure she’ll even admit to it. I tried bringing it up again right before I dropped her off at her mother’s house and she totally evaded the subject. It’s all very strange,” she said, then smiled at Lazlo. “Did Selma get back to you?”

“I just rang off with her. Unfortunately, the investigator you’ve hired has failed to find anything on Warren. If the man was in dire straits before he died, he hid it well. But Selma mentioned he has a few leads left.”

“Let’s hope they pan out,” Remi said.

“What about Makao?” Sam asked.

“If Remi’s shot actually hit him—”

“It did,” she said with a firm nod.

“He hasn’t shown up at any hospitals in Nigeria. Nor at any airport.”

“Does she have any good news?”

“Possibly. She was able to dig up an address on that black market website that may give you enough to work with. Apparently, she matched up the listing from the stolen mosaic piece to a shop that specializes in hard-to-find antiques. Open by appointment only.”

“Imagine that,” Sam said as Remi took a seat next to him at the table.