care if they’re gay. They’re planning to kill someone!”
He stared at me, deadpan. “Of course they are.”
“They are! I overhead them talking in the men’s room on the ferry. They’ve already killed Isobel and Dolly—apparently accidentally, because the girls weren’t their intended target. But they’re going to make up for their mistakes today by hitting their real target, and then they’re getting out of Dodge.”
He lifted his brows. “You were in the men’s room on the ferry?”
“I was in the ladies’ room. There’s an air vent between the two. But that’s not the issue! They’re planning to whack one of the guests on our tour. And I think they have guns.”
That got his attention. “Did you see an actual weapon?”
“No, but Erik said something about pulling a trigger. And here’s the other thing. I got a text from Etienne back at the community center. He ran a quick background check on Erik and Alex and he discovered they don’t exist.”
He pushed a long breath out through his teeth, his expression morphing from disbelieving to grim. “Geez. You actually heard them admit they killed Isobel and Dolly?”
“Alex called it collateral damage and suggested that someone named Stu was going to be really ticked off about it.”
“Geez.” He gave his head a quick shake as if to clear his brain. “Okay, so how does Etienne say we should handle this?”
“He doesn’t.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “No signal. Do you think we should contact the police in the nearest town?”
He chewed that over, eventually shaking his head. “And tell them what? That you overheard two guys in the men’s room say they were going to kill someone? It’d be their word against yours, and there’s two of them to deny it.”
I paused thoughtfully. “They didn’t actually use the word ‘kill.’”
“What word did they use?”
“They said they were going to ‘strike.’ But in the context they were using it, I’m sure they meant kill.”
He planted his legs apart and crossed his arms. “They didn’t say ‘kill’?”
“They used a very acceptable synonym.”
He shook his head. “You got nuthin’, Em.”
“But what about the fact that Erik Ishmael and Alex Hart don’t exist?”
“It’s not a crime to be an imposter.”
“Are you sure? What about their passports? Isn’t it a federal crime to put a fake name on a government document?”
“I don’t know! But I do know that the local police aren’t going to be able to do anything about your allegations. And I say that with some authority because I’ve been in the tour business a heck of a lot longer than you have, and I know how police in foreign countries deal with American tourists.”
I looked him straight in the eye. “But … what if I’m right?”
“You’re never right.”
“That’s not true! I was right in Holland.” I let out a breath. “Well, kinda right.” I bobbed my head. “About a few things.” I sighed. “Okay. I’m never right. But there could always be a first time.”
“You had to mention Holland.” He forced a grudging smile, admitting, “You did okay in Holland. Look, Emily, I think our main goal should be to get back to Wick and let Etienne and the police sort everything out. Sound like a plan? Because if we miss the ferry going back, I’m not sure anything will have prepared you for the headache of trying to find accommodations for two dozen people on Orkney.”
“Okay, but if it turns out later that I’m right now, I’d like to think I did something to keep people alive. Everyone’s in the café at the moment, but once they scatter, it’s going to be impossible to keep track of them.”
“Not if they stay inside the visitor center. You can tail Alex. I’ll tail Erik.”
“I can’t tail him in the men’s room,” I objected.
“You can loiter outside the door, can’t you? At least we don’t have to worry about them exploring the grounds. Looks like the bad weather might turn out to be a blessing in disguise.”
“Hey, everyone!” Dick Teig’s voice echoed out from the café. “It stopped raining!”
Wally and I turned our heads in slow motion to glance out a bank of windows that revealed a sudden, inexplicable break in the weather. I compressed my lips. “Do we have a Plan B?”
Wally stared at the scene, seemingly mesmerized. “My mother told me I should have been a podiatrist,” he said in a dazed voice. “I wish I’d listened.”
“That clinches it then.” I felt a rush of adrenalin shoot through my body like