Scaderstone Pit (The Darkeningstone Series Book 3) by Mikey Campling

what a pleasant surprise to see you this evening.”
    Cally gave the man a humourless smile. “And I’m surprised to see you, Monsieur Azoulay. I’d have thought you’d be back in Paris by now.”
    “I return tomorrow—in the morning,” the man said. “Though I have to make a small detour on the way home. I have something to see.” He paused and gave Cally a meaningful look. “In Grand-Pressigny.”
    “That’s nice,” Cally said. “I hear the museum there is very impressive.”
    The man pushed out his bottom lip. “We do our best. It’s important work, but we do not always get the funds we need. It must be the same in England—or perhaps it is even worse.”
    “I’m not sure about that,” Cally said. “Anyway, we’re just heading off to a little bar that I know, so we’d better get going.”
    The man raised his eyebrows. “Really? You are not going back to your hotel?”
    Cally shook her head. “Not yet. It’s still early.”
    “Quite so,” the man said. “Perhaps I can offer you a lift somewhere?”
    “Thank you,” I cut in, “but we’ll walk. It would be a shame to waste this beautiful evening.”
    The man gave me an appraising look as though seeing me for the first time. “Of course. Enjoy your evening.”
    “Bon soir,” Cally said.
    The man nodded then turned and said something to his driver. His window rolled upward, and the Land Cruiser pulled out into the street and drove away.
    Cally and I stood for a moment and looked at each other. “That was a bit odd,” she said. “When he came to the dig, I’m sure he said he was leaving for Paris today.”
    “You were brilliant,” I said. “That was quick thinking—telling him we were going somewhere else.”
    She gave me a grim smile. “It wasn’t hard to come up with. If I didn’t have such an early start tomorrow, it would be true. But I wasn’t going tell him that.” She grimaced. “Who the hell does he think he is? He has no business poking his nose into my private life.”
    “There’s more to it than that. Can’t you see? They must have been listening to us somehow. He knew you were heading back to your hotel. He was surprised when you said you weren’t.”
    Cally studied my expression. “That’s one interpretation. But it doesn’t prove anything. Not really.”
    I tilted my head back and let out a hiss of frustration. “What will it take to convince you? You must know that something isn’t right. You said it yourself—something is definitely going on.”
    She shook her head. “I was just worried that something might threaten the dig. Nothing melodramatic.”
    I stared at her, wide-eyed in disbelief. “Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said?”
    “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” she said. “I’m going back to my hotel now, and I think you should go back to yours. I know this town better than you. There’s absolutely no need for you to come with me.”
    I ran my hands through my hair. “Maybe not, but I’d prefer it if I could make sure you get back safely. If you don’t mind, I’ll just walk along with you until you get to the door.”
    She sighed. “All right. It’s not worth arguing over—it’s only a short walk. Let’s get moving. I’ve got a lot to do.”
    ***
    It didn’t take us long to reach Cally’s hotel, and I could see straight away that she’d made a better choice than I had. The Hotel Villa Victoria was built from mellow sandstone, with brightly painted wooden shutters at the windows. Its wrought iron balconies held window boxes that were overflowing with bright summer flowers.
    Cally stopped and turned to me. “Well, this is it. Can you find your way from here? I can give you directions if you want.”
    But I didn’t reply. I stood in silence, my brow furrowed, because I’d just seen something that sent a chill racing across my skin.
    Some distance away, a dark saloon car was parked at the side of the street. The driver had chosen the darkest part of the road, away