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“Too late,” he said and yanked her into the room.
Thirty-four
Sam forced himself to remain still when he saw Remi stumble past the door, landing against the table of artifacts. As much as he wanted to blast his fist through Ivan’s face, then break his neck, he knew their best bet was to wait. Ivan might only have two shots in that
small-caliber handgun that he’d managed to smuggle into the museum, but that was two shots too many.
“What’s this?” Fisk said, watching Ivan take hold of Remi.
“Visitor.”
The older man took a frustrated breath. “Does no one listen around here?” Then, realizing Miss Walsh was distracted from her search, he turned back to her. “Keep looking.”
She nodded, hurriedly searching through stacks of folders and papers.
Remi leaned over the table, reaching for one of her shoes that had slid across the tabletop when she fell.
Ivan grabbed her arm and pulled her away.
“Leave my wife alone.”
“Or what?”
Sam started to rise from his chair until Marlowe rushed over and shoved him back in his seat. “Stay there or I’ll slit your throat.”
Remi, clutching her shoes and her purse to her chest, turned a stern eye on Sam. “I’m fine.”
If there was one thing that he and Remi excelled at, it was coming up with alternative plans. They were definitely going to need one now, he thought, watching as Ivan led Remi to Sam’s side.
“Sit,” he ordered, shoving Remi into a chair next to Sam.
She stole a glance Sam’s way. “Come here often?”
“Shut up, you two,” Ivan said, then crossed the room, standing where he could keep an eye on them.
Miss Walsh, who was currently dumping the contents of yet another box on top of the table, looked over at the dagger in Marlowe’s hand. “Must you stand so close with that thing?”
He said nothing, just stared at her. She turned back to the box, her hands shaking as she sorted through the papers.
Fisk glanced at his watch, then at Miss Walsh. “You’re sure you don’t remember seeing anything like that in the artifacts?”
“If there was, I’d know. There wasn’t.”
Fisk narrowed his gaze, stepping in closer to her. “Then what are you digging around for? Because those don’t look like artifacts in that envelope.”
“You said it was round, with symbols? I remember a drawing of something similar.” She shoved the box toward him. “You’re certainly welcome to look yourself.”
He picked up a stack of papers from the box, then nodded at Ivan and Marlowe. “Keep an eye on those two.”
Sam turned his attention to his wife. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“You shouldn’t have come back.”
“I was worried. The ambulance that was supposed to be filled with explosives never showed.”
“A needed ruse,” Fisk said without looking up from the papers he was shuffling through. “It worked.”