Read Online Pirate by Clive Cussler - Free Book Online Page A

at the book, then at Remi. “Tell him I miss him and that I’ll try to write to him. Would you?”
    â€œI’ll be glad to.” Remi linked her arm through Sam’s, saying, “We should get going. It’s a long flight home.”
    Sam gave a polite nod. “Bye.”
    â€œGood-bye,” Bree said, then closed the door as he and Remi returned to the car.
    Remi said, “She’s in trouble. You heard what she said? Asking me to pass a message to Mr. Wickham? Pickering’s cat? We need to go in there and rescue her.”
    â€œNot a good idea, Remi.”
    â€œBut you’ve got a gun this time.”
    â€œOne against how many? We don’t even know who’s in there. If you had yours, we might stand a chance.”
    She frowned at him, then took out her cell phone. “Then we call the cops and up our odds.”
    â€œNot in front of the house,” he said. “If she’s being held, they’ll be watching us.” He pulled away from the curb, then drove down the street.
    Remi phoned the moment they were out of sight, and the dispatcher directed them to wait at a market that was located off the highway about a mile inland. A few minutes after they pulled into the parking lot, her phone buzzed, and she saw she had a text from Selma to call home ASAP.
    Remi called, putting the phone on speaker. “You found something on the digital photos we sent?” she asked.
    â€œNot yet, Mrs. Fargo. But that’s not why I needed to talk. An officer stopped by a few minutes ago asking for you. They found Bree Marshall’s car abandoned on the side of the road not too far from the airport. There were several boxes of fund-raiser tickets and an envelope with checks made out to the Fargo Foundation in the vehicle. The officer was wondering if we wanted to pick them up from the tow yard.”
    Remi looked at Sam, who said, “Was there any indication of a struggle?”
    â€œHe didn’t say, Mr. Fargo. But I expect if there was, he might have mentioned it.”
    â€œThanks, Selma,” Sam told her. “We’ve just called a deputy to check on her. We’ll let him know.”
    About ten minutes later, a Carteret County sheriff’s deputy pulled up. The offshore wind whipped at him as he stepped out of his car, nearly blowing his hat from his head, and he directed them to the front of the store, where they’d be somewhat sheltered. Remi gave a brief explanation.
    The deputy’s expression turned dubious. “Is it possible her car broke down on her way to the airport? Maybe she called for a cab or something.”
    â€œMaybe,” Remi said. “But there’s also the matter of her telling us to pass a message on to her late uncle’s cat.”
    â€œA lot of people talk to their animals.”
    Sam, realizing the deputy failed to appreciate that bit of evidence, took a step forward, leveling his gaze at the officer. “Is it possible to ignore the reason we think our friend is in trouble and just check on her and see if she’s okay?”
    â€œSure. Not that I don’t believe you,” he replied, sounding exactly as if he didn’t. “Just like to get the facts. I’m the only deputy in the area here, so if it’s something that I can handle myself, I will. Otherwise, we’re looking at waiting a good twenty minutes for backup.”
    â€œOf course,” Sam said. He took a card from his wallet, handed it to the deputy, saying, “Our cell phone numbers. Should anything come up in between here and there.”
    The deputy took the card, got into his patrol car, and drove off in the direction of the farmhouse.
    They were about to follow him over when Remi pointed toward a vehicle driving in the opposite direction as the deputy. “That’s the SUV that was parked at the farmhouse.”
    â€œYou’re sure?”
    â€œDefinitely.”
    He started the car. “You see who was