Heavy footsteps scuffed across the courtyard toward the shed, and she hurried back to her corner, kicking something as she scrambled beneath the burlap sacks. She looked out, saw a small square thing near the door, too far to reach without exposing herself. Mrs. Fargo’s phone, she realized, her heart beating so hard, she was sure that the man who walked into the shed could hear each and every thud.
CHAPTER THIRTY
He who is sick will not refuse medicine.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Sam pulled up to the lobby doors of the Jalingo hotel, parked, then pushed the hatch release button, looking forward to having Hank and his bucket gone from the car. Thankfully, whatever had plagued the man seemed to have let up once they were on the road, though he still looked pale and weak. “I’ll get your bag,” Sam said.
“Appreciate it.”
Sam walked around to the back of the Land Rover, grabbed Hank’s duffel from the cargo, as Renee LaBelle hobbled out the lobby doors on her crutches, her own bag slung over her shoulder.
“Don’t close that,” she said as he slammed the tailgate shut.
Hank hauled himself and his bucket from the car. “LaBelle?” he said, looking at her travel bag. “Where are you going?”
“I left a voice mail on Remi’s phone. I thought that’s why you were here. Well, why Sam was here. Why are you here?” she asked Hank.
“Sick.” He held up the bucket. “I didn’t want to pass anything on to the kids. I figured I must have picked up what you had.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I think it was a bout of food poisoning or a very quick bug. Anyway”—she smiled at Sam—“seeing as how you’re here, can I catch a ride with you to the airport?” She gave a pleading smile. “I’ve made a late-night flight back to Tunis.”
“Everything okay?” Sam asked.
“Unfortunately, no. There was a break-in at the dig site. Luckily, I think it was interrupted before too much was disturbed, but I need to get back right away.”
Hank put his hand on her arm. “I’ll go with you.”
“Au contraire,” she said, acknowledging his bucket.
“Really,” he said, quickly setting the pail at the curb. “I’m feeling better already.”
“Even if you were, the flight’s booked full. Besides, you look like death warmed over. You’d never get through airport security.”
“She’s right,” Sam said. “They’d quarantine you before you ever made it through the terminal.”
Renee looked at her watch. “Hate to rush you out of here. My plane leaves in a few hours.”
Sam took Renee’s bag from her, slung it over his shoulder, then set Hank’s bag at his feet. “And I have to pick up Lazlo.”
Hank looked at Sam in disbelief. “But—”
“Get some rest,” Sam said, opening the tailgate with a key on his fob and depositing Renee’s bag. He helped her into the front passenger’s seat, put her crutches in the back, and walked around to the driver’s side. “Couple of days, you’ll be right as rain. Oh, and thanks for your help with the dorm. Appreciate it.”
Sam slid behind the wheel as Renee buckled her seat belt. She rolled down her window, waving at Hank as they drove off. “Room service,” she called out. “They serve a mean chicken broth.”
When it was clear Sam was driving into town instead of out, Renee looked over at him. “Shouldn’t we be heading the other way? Airport? Lazlo?”
“Gotta make a quick stop first. Sorry. Should have warned you.”
He drove to the street where Nasha had stolen the keys from Hank, parking the Land Rover in front of the warehouse store. He looked over at Renee. “You think you can drive the car?”
“My right foot is fine. Why?”
“Good.” He took her crutches from the back, bringing them around to her. Once she was behind the wheel, he said, “Sit here, doors locked, engine running. I don’t want you falling prey to the pickpockets.”
“What exactly are you doing here?”
“A little chat with the remaining Kalu brother. I need some background on that kid we found.”
“The pickpocket? Why?”
“Long story,” he said. “If I’m not back in half an hour, drive yourself to the airport and send Lazlo back for me.”
“Sam, what kind of chat are we talking about?”
“I guess that depends on how forthcoming the man is with his information.”
“Isn’t he part of the same group who stole your truck? Are you sure you should be doing this by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine.” He started to walk off, stopped, and rapped on the hood of the Land Rover. “Might want to roll up that window. Like I said, pickpockets.”
Within moments, the kids swarmed around Sam, at first begging, then quickly backing off as though suddenly recognizing him and recalling their last encounter. A few followed at a safe distance as he turned the corner and ducked into a doorway, waiting for them to catch up. He didn’t wait long. Two boys rounded the corner and he stepped out, blocking their path.
“Don’t run off,” he said as they started backing away. “I’ve got a deal for you.”
They stopped, eyeing him warily. One tilted his head back, trying to look defiant. “What sort of deal?”
“I need to talk to Kambili Kalu. Where can I find him?”
“You can’t. He finds you.”
The other boy added, “If he wants.”
“The thing is,” Sam said, “I’m a bit short on time.” He fanned out some bills in front of them. “Tell me where he is and I’ll make it worth your while.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
If you don’t stand for something, you will fall for something.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
The kidnappers lined up the women against the siding of the unfinished dorm, tied their hands behind their back and ordered them to sit. Remi, Amal, Zara, Jol, Maryam, and Tambara huddled together. Though tears slid down the girls’ cheeks, they remained stoic.
Makao ordered his men to search the buildings a third time. “There’s a ladder,” he said, nodding to the one Pete had used to get on the roof. “Maybe there’s an attic in one of these buildings. Search every corner, anywhere someone might hide.”
“This is my fault,” Amal said after the men moved off. “Had the girls not stopped to help me, they’d have been safely away.”