“Odd,” Pete said, looking at his watch. “The girls don’t usually feed the hens until around six.”
The sound of a car engine turning over stopped them short. “Who is taking off this early?” Pete asked.
Couldn’t be Remi, Sam thought. She wasn’t planning to leave for the village until after breakfast. There was only one person he knew who was brazen enough to take a car without permission. “Nasha.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Those who are absent are always wrong.
– CONGOLESE PROVERB –
Remi and Monifa were cracking eggs open into an industrial-sized stainless steel bowl when Remi heard the heavy footfalls echoing across the courtyard into the open door of the kitchen. “What on earth?”
Wendy, who was closer to the door, set down her butcher knife next to the half-chopped potato to look outside. “Sam and Pete just ran out to the front.”
The three women hurried into the courtyard and followed the men between the buildings. Through the open gate, Remi saw their Land Rover driving off, but the dust trailing up behind it prevented her from seeing who was behind the wheel.
“What’s going on?” she asked Sam.
“Good question,” he said. “You happen to know where Nasha is?”
“Nasha? Why would she take it?”
He looked over at Pete. “Get the truck keys.”
Amal apparently heard the commotion, almost running into Pete on his way into the office. “Is something wrong?”
As much as Remi didn’t want to believe it, she couldn’t think who else might be responsible. “Sam thinks Nasha stole our car again.”
“What?” Amal glanced toward the dusty speck on the horizon. “That’s not possible. I just saw her.”
Sam looked over at her. “You’re sure?”
“I’ll show you.” She walked them through the courtyard and pointed toward the shade trees. Nasha, a basket over her arm, collecting eggs.
“If it wasn’t her,” Remi said, “then who was it?”
Wendy and Pete exchanged glances, Wendy saying, “There’s no way any of the girls would take the car. They’re all honest to a fault—never mind I don’t think any of them know how to drive.”
“Hank,” Sam said.
He certainly had access to the keys, Remi realized. “Why not say something? ‘Hey, I’m taking the car for a spin.’”
“A spin?” Sam looked over at Amal as though hoping she had some explanation.
“An early drink?” she said. “Maybe he wasn’t thrilled to find out the school was dry.”
Pete drew his gaze from the dirt road as the Land Rover headed downhill, disappearing around the bend. “Should we go after him?”
“Let’s wait,” Sam said. “If he’s not back by lunch, Remi and I can go looking. We can pick up the nails then.”
Pete nodded. “I’ll lock the gate.”
Sam watched him walk off, then turned toward Remi, his expression dark.
Unfortunately, Sam’s and Pete’s anger failed to lessen by the time they all sat down to breakfast. “Leaving the gate unlocked?” Pete said. “What if we’d all been in bed? What if—”
Wendy reached for the coffee carafe, pouring herself another cup. “We’re all in one piece,” she said. “Maybe we should wait until he returns and find out what he has to say.”