Tyson wanted to break something. He sat in a coffeehouse in Augusta, Georgia, near the South Carolina line, listening to Ahmed’s story. Tyson had set Ahmed to go after Zafrini while he paid a visit to New Echota. It had seemed an efficient plan, but Ahmed had botched it.
“You let her get away? And you didn’t get the document?” Tyson threw his hands in the air. "I knew I shouldn't have let you go alone."
"It's not my fault. Two men showed up. Both were armed." Ahmed shifted nervously in his chair.
"They just showed up? Pure coincidence?" Tyson wasn’t buying it.
"I don't think it was a coincidence at all." Ahmed paused and looked down at the floor as if he were considering his words carefully. "I'm almost certain they were the same men who stopped us from questioning old man Bonebrake."
"Almost certain?" Tyson asked.
"Well, the blond haired man didn't ring any bells for me, but how many Indians do you know who are that big?"
It was a fair point. The man they had encountered in North Carolina cut and imposing figure, and a memorable one.
Tyson had thought it wise for the two of them to follow up on different leads. Ahmed was to keep an eye on Archer’s place in case Dima showed up there. Meanwhile Tyson had continued to survey the woman’s home and office.
“If those two showed up at Archer’s house, that means they’re following the same trail we are. Obviously, old man Bonebrake told him something.”
“So, do we go back after him?” Ahmed asked.
Tyson began pacing back and forth across the room. “Possibly, but we won’t be able to take him by surprise. Perhaps there’s another way of finding out what he knows.”
His cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.
“Mr. Tyson? This is Carly with the Horry County Sheriff’s department. You asked me to call you if anyone else came around asking about the… you know.”
“Let me guess,” Tyson said. “It was a tall, Native American man and a blond man.”
“How did you know? Carl stammered.
Tyson rolled his eyes. The gods save him from insufferable fools. “Never mind that. Can you tell me anything about them? Did you speak with them?”
“Oh yes.” Carl’s voice suddenly rang with enthusiasm.
Tyson had offered him compensation for useful information. He’d offered a paltry sum, in fact, but the man did not appear to be wealthy by any stretch of the imagination.
“They were asking about the Noah Stone.”
Tyson’s chest constricted. It was as he had feared. These men, whoever they were, were following the same trail. “Anything else?” He snapped a bit too harshly.
“Yeah, but it was kind of ridiculous. They claim they have a stone of their own. Or, at least, something similar.”
Tyson froze. Ahmed, seeing the expression on his face, rose halfway out of his seat but Tyson waved him away. “Do you think they were telling the truth?”
“Well, that I can’t say, but they seemed sincere. It’s not like they were boasting or anything.”
“Did they show you their stone?”
“No, but they told me where they’re keeping it. In the Cherokee Community bank up in North Carolina.”
A broad grin spread across Tyson’s face. “Carl, tell me everything they said. Don’t leave out a single detail.”