Clive Cussler - Wrath of Poseidon

His son stepped forward. “I wanted to thank you for coming after us. And to apologize for putting you both in danger. I know it was foolish. I only wanted to help Zoe.”

Sam nodded. “I appreciate you saying so.”

“But maybe what we saw will help?”

“Maybe.”

Zoe looked hopeful. “What about the fact they were shooting at us?” she asked. “And the man you killed? That has to mean something.”

As much as he wished they could avoid this discussion right now, there was no helping it. “All it proves is that we were there, trespassing on private property. Fortunately, we all survived,” he said as Remi walked in.

She strode directly up to him, holding out her phone. “Rube,” she said.

He examined her face, unable to tell much beyond the tension in her eyes. Taking the phone, he put it to his ear. “That was fast.”

“I got hold of the right person this time,” Rube said. “It’s a mixed bag. Are you somewhere we can talk? It’s not all good news.”

Sam, feeling Remi’s eyes on him, stepped outside the cabin for privacy. “Give me the good news first. I could use some right now.”

“The federal police,” Rube said, “are going to investigate the original kidnapping in concert with the circumstances surrounding Tassos’s death.”

“And the bad news?”

“Don’t expect to be going home anytime soon. Which means the two of you need to be careful. You and I both know what happens when the police start dredging up things no one wants exposed.”

“Kyril would be a fool to come after us. He’ll be the first one they suspect.”

“Let’s hope he’s the logical type.”

Sam’s glance strayed toward Remi, who stood in the cabin watching him through the window. Despite her show of bravado as she’d accompanied him through the rugged terrain, tracking and rescuing Dimitris and Zoe, that fire he’d seen in her eyes was gone. In retrospect, he should have tried harder to convince her to return to the Asteri without him. “Thanks for your help. I’ll go break the news.”

Sam returned Remi’s phone to her. “I just got word that there’s going to be an official investigation.”

“Into what?” Remi asked.

“Everything. The kidnapping.” He looked at Zoe. “Your grandfather’s death. And the shooting tonight. That’s the good news,” he said focusing on Remi. “The bad news is that we’ll be needed for the inquest.”

“You mean we’re stuck here?” Then, as if realizing how that might sound, she glanced at Zoe, Dimitris, and Nikos. “I didn’t mean—”

Nikos smiled kindly at her. “Who can blame you?”

“Unfortunately,” Sam said to Nikos, “I have no idea how long it will take. But I’d be glad to rent the cottage so you won’t lose money on it.”

“Rent?” Nikos made a scoffing noise. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Outside, the sky turned a deep magenta with the rising sun. He widened his stance as he stood at the helm, his face looking worried. “Red sky at morning . . . From the looks of things, we’ll be lucky to make it back to Fourni before the storm hits.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

The morning rain beat against the windowpanes outside Adrian Kyril’s office as he sat at his desk. He picked up the empty Grand Marnier, shaking the last few drops into his coffee cup, torn between searching for another in the kitchen or calling one of the last staff members left on the premises to get it for him. He’d fired all but one maid, the cook, Ilya, Fayez, and three of his men. And if he didn’t find a way to get more money soon, he’d have to get rid of them and the villa.

“A bit early for that, don’t you think?”

He looked up to see Ilya watching him from the doorway. “What do you want?”

“Apparently, you haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?”

“The incident involving the harvest trespasser. There was a shooting at the orchard. One man dead, two disarmed and tied up.”

A dull throbbing started behind his left eye. “What are you talking about? I thought Dimitris’s death was supposed to be an accident.”

“He escaped. It was one of the guards who was killed.”

The pain in his head turned sharp. “Is this going to come back on me?”

“They were trespassing. The guards were merely trying to defend themselves against what they thought was an attack. At least, that’ll be the official statement released should there be any inquiries. While we were hoping the escapees were killed in a boating accident, sadly that doesn’t appear to be the case.”

“Again? You thought that the last time.”

“It seems we were a bit too quick to assume—”

Both men looked up when Adrian’s girlfriend knocked on the open door. “Where is everyone?” Phoebe asked.

“I told you,” Adrian said, his eyes dropping to her belly, failing to see any signs of an impending child. He had a feeling his mother was wrong, but he wasn’t about to anger her further and get rid of the woman. “We’ve had to make some cutbacks.”

“How am I supposed to get to the village, then?”

“You’ll have to wait or drive yourself.”

“In the rain?”

“Yes. In the rain,” he replied, having no patience for her theatrics.

Her gaze flicked from him to Ilya, then the phone he held. “I won’t be home for dinner, then.” She turned and left.

As her footsteps receded, Ilya walked to the door and looked out, apparently making sure she was really gone. “Are you sure you can afford her?”

“I have more important things to worry about than Phoebe. What about Sam Fargo? How do I deal with him?”

“When the weather clears, I’ll assign a couple of my men to follow him.”

“For what?”

“Maybe we’ll learn something we can use. If opportunity arises, we need to be ready.”

“Weren’t you just asking me if I could afford my girlfriend? How can I possibly afford surveillance?”

“Do you want Fargo or not? A cat doesn’t catch the mouse if he doesn’t watch the mouse hole. If that’s not incentive enough, ask yourself how much you’re willing to pay to stay out of jail.”

Adrian thought about what little money he had left. Less than one hundred thousand euros. As much as Ilya was one of his oldest friends, he and his men did not come cheap. “We’ll fire the maid.”

“Not the cook?”

“Unless you know your way around a kitchen, the maid is a better choice. Now show me this video.”

Ilya took out his phone and opened the surveillance app.

Adrian watched the footage showing Fargo shooting out the lights before taking out one of his guards. “Does my mother know about this?”

“Not yet.”

“Do whatever you can to keep it from her.” If she found out, any hope he had of changing her mind about reinstating him into the family business—and access to the bank accounts—would be far more difficult. This wasn’t the first time she’d locked him out. It was, however, the first time she’d so severely limited his income. That part was very problematic. His search for Poseidon’s Trident had cost a small fortune, and now that he knew this cave on Fourni did not contain the fabled treasure, he was beginning to regret the effort.

His gaze went back to the security video, the feed now showing how Fargo managed to take out two armed guards with a rope. “They know too much. Is there some reason you can’t just go to that island and kill them?”

“Besides the weather? No one in, no one out.”

That was, unfortunately, one of the hazards of living on the smaller islands. The weather dictated all movement. “I mean after it clears.”

“Fourni is far too small. If it’s not done carefully, you’ll be the first person they investigate for it.”