Pirate

He realized she was talking about the vacant lots this side of Devil’s Alley. Remi returned just then, and Sam drew her outside. “Something’s happened to Nigel,” he said as they walked in the direction indicated. “He said he was robbed.”

“Has he called the police?”

“Not sure. You find out anything?”

“Not much. He was here but took off in a hurry.”

Sam took Remi’s arm as he quickened his pace, almost missing the pathway due to the thick fog. He stopped, listened, hearing nothing but the rhythmic splashing of water.

“What are we doing here?” Remi whispered.

“He said he was at the silos.”

“There aren’t any silos here.”

“There used to be.” He took her hand and led her down the path. Unfortunately, they couldn’t see more than a few yards in front and he stopped. “Nigel?”

No answer.

Sam turned at the sound of footsteps but couldn’t see anyone in the thick fog. Whoever it was continued on around the corner, their footsteps fading in the distance.

“Listen,” Remi said. “I think I hear something.”

Sam heard it, too. Coming from somewhere to their left in the lot. “Wait here,” he said, then climbed over the cable barrier that marked the pedestrian path. He took out his phone, turned on the flashlight. Sparse, long weeds and grasses grew on the rocky soil, looking undisturbed as far as he could see. But as he walked a bit farther, he noticed the grass and weeds were trampled, the rocky soil disturbed. Drag marks, he realized. He followed along, reaching a thick growth of shrubs near the adjoining building. Something rattled the branches down low.

He leaned down, shined his flashlight into the bushes, and saw Nigel, blinking against the light. “I found him!”

Nigel struggled to sit, looking confused. He touched the back of his head, then winced.

“You okay?” Sam asked as Remi joined them.

“I think so. Did we just talk?”

“On the phone.”

“Right.”

Sam held his hand out, and Nigel grabbed on, allowing Sam to help him to his feet. “Think you can walk?”

“Yes.” He took a step, then swayed.

Remi reached out at the same time Sam did. “Maybe we should call an ambulance,” she said.

“No. I’m fine. Just give me a moment.”

“She’s right,” Sam said. “You need to get checked out.”

Nigel smiled, as if to prove he was fine. “What I need is a good stiff drink.”

Sam helped him navigate the uneven terrain to the pedestrian path while Remi stood guard on the other side. As far as Sam could tell, he didn’t look too injured. No blood, just dirt, leaves, and damp hair from being out in the fog.

After they climbed over the cable barrier, Nigel brushed some of the debris from his gray suit, looking somewhat dazed.

Remi cocked her head at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Going to have quite the headache for a while,” he said.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“Not sure. I ended my tour at the warehouse and was going back to meet up with you. Someone came up and told me there were some shady types on South Quay, so I figured I’d take a shortcut through the alley to avoid them. Don’t think I got much farther than this when someone whacked me from behind.”

“Sounds like a robbery,” Sam said.

He patted his pockets, then gave a slight laugh. “Got my wallet. They’re going to be disappointed. Not sure I had more than five pounds on me.”

Sam was about to suggest they call the police when he heard a low growl coming from the direction of the quay. The other two heard it as well, and they all turned as a large, dark dog appeared like some apparition in the mist. It stood there, its head low, its teeth bared as it growled.

Sam put his arm out, moving Remi behind him.

Together, the three backed down the path, Sam keeping an eye not only on the dog but on the silhouette of the broad-shouldered man that appeared behind it.

Forty

Remi?” Sam said quietly. “Do you have—”

She handed him a small canister of pepper spray.

“Run,” he said.

Remi and Nigel turned and ran. Sam aimed the canister, but the dog, as though sensing trouble, backed off. Instead, Sam sprayed a shot toward the man, then ran after the others, not waiting to see if he hit his mark. The dog started barking just before Sam heard the sound of heavy footfalls as someone chased after them. Either he missed the dog handler or the man had an accomplice.

Remi and Nigel were up ahead, racing beneath the same arch they’d gone under earlier in the day, Devil’s Alley.

Aptly named, Sam thought, as he caught up to his wife. He glanced back but couldn’t see anyone in the fog.

“This way,” Nigel said, turning to the right. “The police station isn’t that far.”

In less than five minutes, they were pushing through the door of the police station, then reporting the attack. The officer on duty took Nigel back to an interview room while Sam and Remi waited in the lobby.

Remi took a seat in one of the chairs. “A good thing we happened along when we did.”

Sam paced the room, keeping an eye out the door. “What are the chances the one man we’re waiting to see is robbed?”

“Too much of a coincidence.”