“Speaking of,” José said. “I heard the police don’t think he fell at all.”
Hank lowered his water glass to the table. “Where’d you hear that?”
“One of my friends at the British works,” José said.
Renee glanced at Remi. “I suspected something like this. The police have asked me to come down to the station tomorrow morning. No doubt to tell me it was”—she gave Nasha a quick look, noting she seemed more interested in the brik triangles on her plate than the conversation at the table, Renee lowering her voice anyway—“self-inflicted, would be my guess.”
Remi turned toward Sam. “We’re not letting her go down there by herself.”
“Remi’s right. We’ll go to the police with you.”
“Let me,” Hank said.
“You’re needed here,” Renee told him. “The Fargos have more experience with this sort of thing. Offer accepted.” She gave a tired sigh. “I vote we change the subject. I actually have some good news. The university received an endowment and they intend to funnel some of that money into the archeology department—once everything’s sorted out, that is,” she said with an apologetic smile toward Remi.
They tossed around ideas about where that money would best be put to use. Eventually, the conversation drifted into the happenings at other sites in the archeological park.
Osmond pulled out his phone, accessing a video. “Did any of you see the prank that the Brits pulled off? They hung a plastic skeleton on fishing line in the entrance to the amphitheater … Watch.”
Nasha gasped. “Were they scared?”
“Very,” he said, passing the phone to Renee, who held it so she and Lazlo could see it together.
“Brilliant,” Lazlo said.
Renee laughed. “This is great. Where’s Amal? She needs to see this.”
Her mother looked up at them. “I think she was clearing dishes.”
Remi’s gaze wandered toward the olive trees and she was surprised to see a light at the bottom of the hill where none had been just a few minutes before. She nudged Sam with her knee. “I think someone might be in the office.”
Sam looked that direction. “You’re sure it isn’t a reflection?”
“I don’t think so.”
He studied it a moment longer, then stood, holding his hand out to his wife. “After all this great food, I need to stretch my legs. It’s a lovely night for a walk.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” she said.
Lazlo bowed his head to them and launched into a tale of the treasure he hunted for but never found in Laos, drawing everyone’s attention.
But Nasha saw them and followed. “I want to go for a walk.”
“Nasha?” Yesmine called. “Ready to help me with the dessert?”
That did the trick. As she raced back to the table, Sam and Remi strolled through the yard, ducking below the low-growing branches of the olive trees that surrounded it. The laughter and conversation faded as they continued down the slope through the grove, toward the small house rented to the archeologists.
About twenty-five yards away, Sam saw a flash in the window. “Definitely something going on inside there.”
“If everyone’s up at the party …”
“My thoughts exactly,” he said, searching the front of the house. The door and windows were shut. Nothing looked disturbed. “Let’s check around back.”
As he and Remi stopped at the corner, he peered around it, then pointed.
The door was open.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX