“Well, if you wanted in my knickers, you could have come tomy bunk after everyone else was asleep. Though you’ve been... preoccupied every night already,” she said, waggling her brow.
Ford straightened in his seat. “How did you...” His voice trailed off.
With a devilish quirk of the lips, Agnes cocked her head and said, “It’s easy for people to forget I’m here. Ignore the cook. But I see everything that happens in this camp, even when peoplethinkno one is looking.”
Ethan and Ford glanced at each other as if thinking the exact same thing. A human security camera.
“Agnes,” Ethan started, “we’ve got a situation. It appears there might be someone in camp who has... ulterior motives for being here.”
“If you’re asking whether I’ve seen someone sneaking around the storage bunker, then the answer is yes. You don’t need to beat around the bush and play coy with me,” she said, and then turned toward Ford and raised her brow. “Unless you’re trying to get in my knickers, that is.”
“I’m sorry... did you say you saw someone sneaking around the storage bunker?” Ford asked, ignoring her inuendo.
“Sure did. Didn’t see who it was, though, unfortunately. Caught my attention because I thought it was odd seeing someone wearing a black hooded sweatshirt. It’s a little hot for a sweatshirt. But then he was walking around the storage bunker. Like he was eyeing it real close. Like trying to find a way in. Didn’t see whether he did, though. Kind of hard to see from this angle.”
“Was there anything else about him, like, physically, that you can remember?”
“No, like I said. He had on a hood. Sort of hard to tell fromafar. Though I suppose he seemed on the smaller end of the spectrum, as far as the men here go.”
“Small? How small?”
“Small like I could crush him. Maybe yea tall,” she said, putting her hand up no higher than her own head. “And definitely didn’t have shoulders like yours.” Another flirty smile.
Ford mentally ran through the men in camp. Only a few could possibly fit the bill, though Agnes’s vague recollection was anything but definitive. “Do you remember seeing any black hoodies in the bags we’ve searched so far?” he asked Ethan.
“No. Though if we’re narrowing it down to guys on the shorter side, we’ve really only got Guiles left.”
Guiles. That brownnosing little kiss-ass. Hmm.
“Have you noticed anything else strange around here lately?” Ford asked.
“Couple of weird things on the supply list. And I’m not talking about your special delivery,” she said, wiggling her brow at Ford again.
God dammit, Agnes.Ethan raised his brows. “Condoms,” Ford begrudgingly admitted. Good thing Ethan already knew about him and Corrie, otherwise he would have had a lot more explaining to do. “Can you please focus now, Agnes? What kind of weird things?”
“Well, I don’t know a whole lot about what you all do out there and all the tools you use, but the bolt cutters and a screwdriver on the list threw me for a loop. Not the most efficient digging tools.”
The culprit must have used them to break into the shed.
“Why are you telling us all this now?” Ethan asked.
“I’m paid to cook, not babysit and play detective,” she responded, sassy as all get out.
Ford opened his mouth to ask another question when Sunny came rushing over carrying the sat phone. “Dr. Matthews,” she said out of breath, “it’s the investor.”
Now? Great. What was he supposed to tell him? That they had a thief among their ranks? Taking the phone and stepping away from Ethan, Agnes, and Sunny, Ford braced himself for a lot of explanation.
“This is Dr. Matthews.”
“Do I need to ask what is going on at my camp?” Vautour barked. He’d never taken this tone before, but there was no mistaking his voice—he was not pleased. “What’s all this about you questioning employees and searching through their belongings?”
He’d already heard? How could that be?
Ford glanced at the others, waiting patiently for him to get off the phone. Surely Sunny hadn’t called him.
“Sir, we’ve had some trouble over the last few days. Someone’s broken into the shed where we keep the artifacts.”
“And do you know who it is?”
