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talked about how her uncle would be sopleased to find someone who would appreciate it for its historical value.”
    Sergeant Trevino eyed them, his pen poised over his notebook. “I understand you’re professional treasure hunters?”
    â€œWe are,” Sam said. “With the proceeds going to charity through the Fargo Foundation.”
    â€œI’ll admit to knowing very little about rare books. But, seeing as how it was a book of pirates and maps, is it possible that someone stole this book because they thought it would lead them to some long-forgotten pirate treasure?”
    Remi laughed. “I suppose anything’s possible. Honestly, though, had it not been for Mr. Pickering’s niece saying he had a first edition for sale and us being in the area around the same time, I doubt I would have sought it out.”
    â€œAssuming the stolen book
was
a first edition, how much are we talking?”
    â€œDepending on the condition . . .” Remi had researched the book when she’d first considered buying it for Sam. “I’ve seen copies for sale from several hundred dollars to a couple thousand. It’s not a particularly valuable book because it was popular in its day. There are still a lot of first editions out there. For us, it was more sentimental,” she said, placing her hand on Sam’s.
    â€œExactly,” Sam said. “We enjoy maritime history.”
    Sergeant Trevino closed his notebook. “That’s about all I have for now. Unless either of you can think of anything we might’ve overlooked?”
    â€œNot at the moment,” Sam replied.
    And Remi added, “We’ll call if we think of anything else.”
    â€œThanks again for coming all the way out here.”
    He escorted them back to the lobby.
    Remi, about to follow Sam out the door, asked, “What’s going to happen to Mr. Wickham?”
    Sergeant Trevino’s brows went up.
    â€œThe bookseller’s cat.”
    â€œRight. I believe Pickering’s next-door neighbor came by to pick it up. He’ll be well cared for until we hear from Pickering’s niece or his daughter and find out what she wants to do with it.”
    â€œHave you been in touch with either of them?” she asked.
    â€œNot yet. I think his daughter lives on the East Coast. As for his niece, we have the number you provided. We’ll try to reach her through that.” He thanked them again, then headed back toward the elevator.
    Back at the hotel, Sam handed his keys to the valet. “Not quite the relaxing diversion I’d hoped San Francisco would be.”
    She sighed. “I suppose that’s my fault for suggesting we go to the bookstore to begin with. I thought the book would add to the nautical theme of your new office.”
    â€œI’ll enjoy the reproduction as much, if not more. Especially with its checkered past.”
    â€œAnd where is it we’re off to?” she asked as they walked into the lobby.
    â€œFirst to get our luggage. Then a drive down the coast to Monterey.”
    â€œDinner and key lime pie at Roy’s?”
    Before he had a chance to answer, they were met by the on-duty manager, his face etched with concern. “Mr. and Mrs. Fargo. I can’t tell you how
very
sorry I am. And if there’sanything I can do, I—nothing like this has
ever
happened before. At least not as long as I’ve worked here.”
    â€œWhat’s never happened before?” Sam asked.
    â€œThe police. They came with a warrant to search through your things.”
    â€œA warrant?” Remi asked, certain she’d misunderstood. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine anything they might’ve done that would result in a police investigation.
    â€œWe tried to call you, but it went straight to voice mail.”
    They’d both turned off the ringers on their cell phones while being interviewed by Sergeant Trevino.
    Sam asked,