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mpletely honest with you two,” she said in a low voice.
“Really?” Remi said with arched eyebrows.
“Yes. I’m a bit of a research fanatic, and when I went home to change, I googled Sam and Remi Fargo. I suppose you know what I found.”
Sam looked sheepish. “Can’t believe everything you read on the web.”
“Perhaps.” She eyed Manchester. “Orwen, I’ll have you know you’re sitting with celebrities. Sam and Remi are renowned treasure hunters.”
Manchester’s face could have been carved from granite. “Treasure hunters?”
“A distortion the media loves. They sensationalize everything,” Remi explained. “We’ve been fortunate a few times in locating significant finds. Some of our archaeological projects have turned up some historically valuable items. But it’s not like we find treasure and keep it,” she said, frowning. “It goes to the rightful owners for charitable work and enrichment.”
“That’s right. It’s a case of man bites dog. Anything to sell papers,” Sam echoed.
“And modest as well as famous,” Vanya said. “The Fargos have discovered more hidden booty than anyone else on the planet, Orwen. Don’t let their humility fool you.”
Sam waved a hand. “Most people have better things to do than root around in old temples and the like. That’s a meaningless statistic,” he said. “It’s like having seen more ghosts than anyone. Doesn’t say much.”
“Where did you say you were diving?” Manchester asked, his tone polite but with a hint of frost to it.
Remi smiled megawatts at him. “We didn’t. It’s our friend’s expedition, so not ours to talk about. But I can assure you there’s no treasure involved.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s a small island. I’m sure everyone’s already talking about the attack. Secrets like that don’t stay that way very long around here.”
“Probably, but we have to respect our friend’s wishes. He’s an academic and these kinds of things are important to him. Bragging rights,” she said.
Manchester nodded. “I completely understand. I just thought that perhaps I could be of service if you need any help with permits or that sort of thing.”
Remi gave a polite yawn behind her hand, and Vanya took the hint and gestured for the check. When it came, Sam snatched it from the waiter’s hand before she could reach it. “Please. Let us buy dinner. That was the best fish and some of the most engaging company we’ve had in ages. It’s the least we can do.”
Vanya’s eyes flashed, but she smiled. “That’s very generous. Hopefully, that generosity will extend to helping my people.”
“Hell, if I’d known someone else was buying, I’d have drunk more!” Manchester declared with a guffaw.
Vanya dropped Sam and Remi off at the hotel with a promise to e-mail them the clinic plan and they in turn said they’d stop by the hospital soon to check on the injured worker.
“Manchester’s a character, isn’t he?” Sam said as they shouldered their way through the door under the vigilant gaze of the desk clerk.
“That’s an understatement. He seems angry, doesn’t he? Not that far below the surface. Resentful.”
“I can’t blame him. Sounds like he’s fighting a thankless battle and losing two steps for every one he gains.”
“Assuming he’s telling the whole truth. He didn’t strike me as suffering too badly.”
CHAPTER 7
When Leonid picked Sam and Remi up, two ratty dive suits and well-used rigs lay in the back of the SUV. The Russian looked like he’d had a hard night, his eyes red and two days of salt-and-pepper stubble dusting his jaw.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Sam said as he studied his friend’s profile. “You lose a round to the local rum?”
Leonid smiled ruefully. “Don’t ask.”
“Were you able to get another crew?”
“I guess we’ll see when we get out to the bay. I had to pay double what it cost yesterday, but I think they’ll show up.”
Sam checked his watch and pulled the satellite phone from his backpack as they made their way out of town. Selma answered after two rings, her tone businesslike.