Four hours later, Sam, who was tacking tarpaper on the roof, saw the Land Rover approaching. “He’s back.”

Remi was down below, sweeping construction debris from the subflooring. Pete was filling a wheelbarrow with dirt from the endless pile behind the shed. As Sam climbed down from the roof, Pete pushed the barrow toward one of the half-empty planters in the courtyard, asking, “What do you want to do?”

“I brought him here,” Sam said. “I’ll talk to him.”

Pete agreed, then went back to work.

Remi followed Sam out of the courtyard to the front of the school, somewhat worried on Hank’s behalf. She knew that Sam felt responsible for every one of those girls. When they’d begun looking into building the school, security had been first and foremost in his min

d. He’d spent countless hours with Pete and Wendy on the design, making sure that the local contractors they’d hired were the best. When these same contractors weren’t able to finish the second dorm, he and Remi had dropped everything so that they could come out to help. In less than two days, Professor Lazlo Kemp was flying in for the same purpose.

With the rainy season bearing down on them, time was of the essence. Having to stop work after the delay caused by the theft from the first supply truck and now the lack of nails put them even further behind schedule. And Sam’s face reflected that. He stood there, his arms crossed, jaw ticking, waiting for the car to pull up to the gate.

“Sam …”

He glanced over at Remi, but said nothing.

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Like put my fist in his face?”

The classroom door opened and the girls hurried out, most running toward the mess hall. A few, however, wandered toward the front, Nasha included, curious about what the adults were doing in the drive. “Don’t forget that there are a lot of little pitchers with big ears.” She nodded toward the girls.

“What if I promise to hit him quietly?”

“Maybe I should talk to him instead. After all, Renee’s my friend, and he’s here because of his connection to her.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll get the gate.” He walked over, opened it, then closed and locked it after Hank drove the Land Rover through.

Hank got out of the car, holding up a carton of nails as if that explained his five-hour trip. “Figured we wouldn’t get much done without them. I bought all they had on hand in the village. Ten boxes.”

“Very kind of you,” Remi said. “Except that Amal and I were supposed to go.”

“Thought I’d save you the trip. Amal’s a lot more useful around here with the girls than I could ever be.” He reached into the car, pulling out a large cardboard box, no doubt containing the other cartons of nails. When he turned, he looked at Sam, who had walked up, his expression stony. “Before you say anything, I realize that I left the gate open in my haste to get out before anyone woke up.”

“You did,” Sam said.

“Yes, well it may turn out to be a good thing. Not the gate, my trip into town.” He hefted the heavy box and closed the car door with his hip. “While I was there, I saw a man getting out of a white pickup truck. There was a definite scar running down his cheek.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Rain wets the leopard’s spots, but it does not wash them off.

– ASHANTI PROVERB –

Remi glanced back behind them, seeing Nasha standing next to Amal. Worried that the child would overhear what Hank was saying, she turned to the courtyard, trying to keep her smile light. “Nasha, wouldn’t you like to join the other girls at lunch? I promise you, they don’t bite.”

Nasha shook her head.

Amal dug her phone out of her pocket, holding it up. “Let’s go take some pictures. It’ll be fun.”

She hesitated, then took Amal’s hand.

Hank watched as they disappeared into the courtyard, Amal showing Nasha how to work the camera on her phone. “You might want to watch that one. I saw her out early this morning when I took off.”

“Amal?” Remi asked.

“No. The pickpocket. She was sneaking around out there,” he said, indicating the part of the courtyard where Pete was shoveling dirt into one of the planters. “When she saw me, she ducked. Definitely suspicious. Probably hiding something.”

Tags: Clive Cussler Fargo Adventures Thriller
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