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He stopped his bike alongside the white SUV. Billy circled back around and pulled up alongside him, Sam asking, “Mind if I borrow that trench knife?”
Billy drew it from its sheath, handing it to Sam. As hoped, the two-edged dagger was razor sharp.
Remi’s grip around his waist tightened. “They’re coming,” she said. “Wouldn’t the gun be better?”
“Don’t worry.” He leaned down, punched the sidewall of the right front tire, yanked it out, then repeated the process, widening the hole.
The tire flattened in a whoosh of air.
“That should buy us some time,” he shouted as he returned the knife to Billy. They took off again.
Just before they turned the corner, Sam looked back, saw Avery’s men stopping by the SUV, one of them punching the hood in anger.
He smiled. Finally, something was going their way, and he relaxed, enjoying the short remainder of the ride to the rental car.
“That was close,” Remi said, waving to the bikers once they were safely in their own car.
Sam pulled out, angry over the turn of events. “Too close. I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing you here.”
Remi had just started plugging in their route to the hotel and looked up from her phone. “What do you mean by that?”
“It was foolish to come to lunch when we knew they were out here.”
“I was just as much to blame. You certainly didn’t see me protesting.”
“But I know better.”
“You mean, I don’t?” Remi sighed. “First of all, we had no reason to think they’d be going door-to-door looking for us. It would have been far more expedient and efficient to stake out our car. That’s what we would have done. Second of all, it turned out fine, so quit blaming yourself.”
She was right about the door-to-door thing. Which made him wonder just how intelligent Avery’s men were—not that it made them any less dangerous. Though this trip was much less eventful, he and Remi kept their gaze glued to the mirrors. No sign of the white SUV or any other car that seemed to be following them. Even so, when they reached the hotel, Sam checked out, drove to a new hotel where they checked in under a different name, then made arrangements to have the rental car returned and a new one sent. No sense giving Avery’s men the advantage of knowing where they were and what car they were driving.
Settled in their new hotel room, Sam placed his phone on the glass-topped coffee table, turned on the speaker, then relaxed on the couch.
Selma answered on the first ring. “I was hoping you’d call. I figured you might be at dinner and didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Room service,” Sam said. “We opted for low-key after our attempt to dine out at lunch.”
“Oh?”
“Avery’s men are already here. They followed us from the car rental lot. I’m assuming that whatever it is, they haven’t found it yet.”
“What makes you say that?” Selma asked.
“It’s the only explanation that fits why they’d waste time coming after us. They’ve had a full day or more to search before we even got here. If they’d found what they needed, they would have left.”
“Maybe,” Remi said, taking a seat next to Sam, “Avery’s men like to hold a grudge.”
“Undoubtedly.” Sam leaned back, asking Selma, “What, exactly, are we looking for?”
“Ship manifests and court records. While we’ve been trying to decipher the code on the map, Pete and Wendy have been searching for information on that ship that went down off Snake Island. As I mentioned before, some of what we deciphered made us suspect it was part of a larger fleet that left from Jamaica. We have it narrowed down even further. I need you to look through the manifests from between 1694 and 1696. If we find out who owned the fleet, we’re that much closer to discovering where to find the original cipher wheel. And if we’re really lucky, it’s right there in Jamaica.”
“Where is it we’ll find this information?” Sam asked.
“The Jamaica Archives and Records Department in Kingston. I’ll send you all the pertinent information.”
“Thanks, Selma. Give our best to everyone at home.”
He disconnected, then held up his wineglass. “Here’s to a productive search come morning.”