The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,100

he straightened, reaching for his gun. “You’re not Ham—”

Sam, gripping his revolver like a set of iron knuckles, drove his weighted fist into the guy’s jaw. His head snapped back, slamming into the wall, his gun firing into the ceiling as he slumped to the ground.

“Tarek?” Hamida called out as Remi appeared in the stairwell. “What’s going on out there?”

Sam took her hand as Hamida stumbled from the hall.

“Sorry.” Sam guided Remi through the doorway. “Looks like your friend had a bit too much to drink.”

“You . . .” He tried to draw his gun from his holster.

Sam rushed out, pulling the door closed.

Crack!

Wood splintered behind him as he raced after Remi. A second shot rang out as they turned the corner, the sharp retort echoing between the buildings.

“That was close,” Sam said once they reached their car.

“You realize who they were? The two from the hotel.”

“Had I known earlier, I would’ve clocked the other guy, too.”

“Considering they tried to kidnap me,” she said, buckling her seat belt, “your restraint is exemplary.”

“Only because we were the ones breaking in. Not exactly the time or place to kill anyone.”

“I suppose you’re right. It would take a lot of explaining.” She sighed. “I just can’t see Amal being involved in this.”

“Well, she’s involved somehow. Which means we’re going to have to confront her about it. Especially after finding this.” He handed Remi the slip of paper. “A map to the house—and the dig site where Warren’s body was found.”

Remi turned on the cab light for a better look. “Oh no . . . There has to be a logical explanation.”

“I can’t wait to hear it. I also found a bunch of invoices for assorted antiquities that were possibly shipped out. It’ll give us a good place to start our search for the stolen fragment.”

He handed Remi the roll of papers. She looked at a few and put them in the glove box. “I hope you’re wrong about Amal. She was so good with the girls. I couldn’t have asked for a better companion when Makao and his thugs broke into the school.”

“You can question her tomorrow.”

But Amal wasn’t at the dig the following afternoon when Remi and Sam arrived, nor was she at Renee’s house when they checked there.

Renee, no longer using her crutches, invited them to the kitchen table for coffee. Hank was at the stove, stir-frying rice and vegetables, the scent of hot olive oil filling the room. José was at the sink washing his lunch dishes. He nodded in greeting as he set them wet in the rack. “Heading out,” he said when he’d finished.

“Sit,” Renee told Sam and Remi, bringing over a pot of coffee and two mugs. “It’s sort of a free-for-all at mealtime.”

“So I see,” Remi said. “Where’s Amal? Isn’t she usually out in the field in the afternoon?”

“Usually,” Renee said as she poured their coffee. “Did she say anything to you, Hank?”

He turned off the burner and looked back at them. “She took the day off to help her mother with the big dinner tonight. Anything wrong?”

“Probably not,” Remi said. “She had one of her episodes yesterday at the market.”

“But she usually recovers pretty fast,” Renee said.

Hank scraped the vegetables and fried rice into a large serving bowl and carried it to the table. “Have you eaten yet? We have plenty.”

Sam and Remi declined.

“LaBelle. Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Yes. Be right back.” She left the room, then returned a moment later, handing Sam the missing ledger. “I found it last night. Somehow, we looked right past it.”

Sam opened it, turning the pages, studying the entries while they ate.

“What is it?” Remi asked when she noticed him pausing and turning back to the previous page.

“A few pages are missing.”

Renee set her fork down. “That’s impossible. There was nothing missing when Hank and I went over them together.”

“When was that?” Sam asked.

“When we first discovered there was a problem.”

“They’re not there now.” Sam opened the book wide. “You can see where they were torn out.”

“The burglary,” Hank said. “We couldn’t figure out what was taken. That had to be it.”

“Warren?” Renee leaned back in her chair, looking sick to her stomach. “I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but why can’t he just leave us alone?”

Sam looked up from the book. “Where’d you end up finding it?”

“With the other ledgers,” Hank said. “It was out of order.”

Sam checked his watch and stood, tucking the ledger beneath his arm. “I’d really like to take a closer look