Читать книгу Desire In The Desert - Ryshia Kennie - Страница 15

Chapter Six

Monday, September 14, 7:00 p.m.

They had agreed that there was nothing they could do until daylight. The Sahara wasn’t welcoming during the day, never mind at night. There was no need to push the limits, especially as there had been no further communication from the kidnappers.

That worried Emir.

“The airport attack had to be tied to the kidnappers. But why?” Kate asked. “Something doesn’t fit.”

He paced and tried to ignore the pulsing headache. He’d already popped a couple of aspirin and an hour ago he’d admitted to himself that there was no hope for it, the headache was there until Tara was brought home unscathed.

“We should have gotten a final demand by now. None of this makes sense,” he said, knowing it could make perfect sense. But maybe it all made sense and it was that last, unspoken option he didn’t want to contemplate.

“Could their plans have gone somewhat awry?” Kate mused. “We were attacked at the airport by men who we believe were part of Tara’s kidnappers, but why attack us?” She shoved her hands into her pockets as she paced the room. “They’ve got to be connected—the kidnappers and the airport attackers. And they had to have a motive for the attack. Is it possible they’re working at odds with each other?”

Emir heard the reluctance to believe her own theory in her voice. Like him, she knew that if she was right, if there were problems among the kidnappers, that could only mean problems for Tara. It wasn’t the usual kidnapping pattern, but for every norm there was the deviant. These kidnappers were obviously true deviants. And that only made him angry and fearful at the same time, fearful that they wouldn’t find Tara alive.

“She’ll be fine, Emir. We’ll make sure of it.”

He took a breath, focusing on what could be done now.

He had to think about practical things. Things that needed to be done by morning—gathering supplies that would see them through a journey into the desert. He’d already set staff to complete that task. But there were other things. They needed to eat, rest and prepare for what lay ahead.

Whether they heard from the kidnappers or not, whether her abductors returned Tara voluntarily or not, they would face justice and Emir would be the one leading that charge.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him of a more immediate problem. But already that problem was also on the edge of resolution. He’d sent word to the kitchen and ordered Moroccan omelets for both of them. It was a light meal enhanced with the subtle tastes of various herbs, tomato and onion, perfect for not making one so satiated that lethargy set in. They couldn’t afford that.

There was movement in the doorway, followed by a hesitant knock.

He looked up and saw Baz, the son of one of his estate security. The teenager hesitated in the doorway as he held a tray of food Emir had ordered less than twenty minutes ago.

“On the desk would be fine, thanks.” He eyed the boy. “You’re off duty soon?”

The slight yet gangly, dark-haired youth nodded. “I’m sorry about Tara, I...” He dropped his head and backed up, his hands behind his back. “Can I help? Find her, I mean.”

For the first time in hours, Emir had a faint urge to smile. It was a fairly public secret that the boy had a crush on Tara. But, at only seventeen, his youth combined with his current status in life—son of a guard—might mean that life wasn’t going to throw him a chance at his sister’s affections. Too bad. In a few years Emir thought it was a good guess that the boy would mature into a man who could make a woman proud. His jaw tightened. He wanted Tara to live to have the choice. He pushed the thoughts away and met the boy’s concerned gaze.

“No. You don’t want to intimidate them with too big a show of force,” he said, flattering the boy. “We’ll find her,” he assured him as Baz nodded and left.

They ate their meal quickly and in silence. It was sustenance only and, oddly, a moment to collect their thoughts individually before they began brainstorming all over again.

“We’ve still got nothing but assumptions as to where they’ve taken her. For all we know, she could still be in the city, she might never have left,” Emir said as he picked up their plates and utensils and set them on a tray Baz had left on a table by the entrance.

“I’m not so sure,” Kate said.

She looked young and too fresh and pretty to have wielded a gun as efficiently as she did. He’d read in the file that she was twenty-eight years old.

“The evidence on the man in the airport seemed to indicate desert or rural. And Tara’s security indicated the same. That’s what we’ll have to stick to, barring further evidence.”

Emir scowled. “So far it’s the best we have.”

“Exactly,” she agreed.

He watched as she stood, walked into the hallway and over to a white-marble pillar that was just one of many lining the length of the two-hundred-foot hallway. He knew she wouldn’t find any answers there. Only space.

As familiar as he was with all of it, he still, at times, felt the overpowering opulence of the office walls. He’d seen her look of surprise when he’d first brought her into his office. He imagined she thought he’d decorated it to suit his personality rather than realizing what it was: a tribute to the generations that had come before him.

If it were up to him, the office would be simpler, less elegant. The rosewood desk was opulent enough to stand alone. Sitting on a richly vibrant, deep, brown-and-blue Persian rug that covered the majority of the floor made it even more so. And yet neither the opulence of the desk nor the richness of the rug or the elegance of the other accessories fit with the pictures on the office wall. Pictures of his brothers and his sister in various locations—a ski hill, a beach—and at all different ages, and then a picture of all of them together. He knew that it all appeared as if he’d moved into someone else’s home and never added anything to his own liking, except, possibly, the pictures. And it didn’t matter to him. This was his family’s history and he honored it. The decor meant nothing more than that.

He knew she was back, he could sense her before he looked up and saw her. She took a step past the doorway, facing him but not looking at him, obviously focused on her thoughts. He imagined from the expression on her face that she might be replaying in her mind what had been done so far. He waited as minutes passed silently between them before she spoke.

“At least if the tower dump info you requested on the first call would come in...” She walked toward him. “What range are they using?”

“I kept it fairly simple. The city limits and thirty miles out. Fortunately the call came in early in the morning. The traffic was light. There were only a little over six hundred,” he said. “With Barb, we’ve got the best on it. We can’t do more.”

The tower dump had requested cell phone companies in the area to reveal records of users during a specific time frame. It was an invasion of privacy implemented only at the request of law enforcement and, in situations like this, where Nassar Security had pull and reach.

She frowned at him.

“Sorry, you’ve never met Barb Alamy.”

“Not officially,” she agreed. “I’m just curious. Western given name...”

“She’s an American who came to Morocco on vacation. Long story short, she’s been here over a decade, married a local man. Now she’s the office tech guru and has since taken over research.”

“I don’t know how you found her, but Barb’s definitely a tech guru.”

“She found us,” he admitted of his recent addition. “And now we have her working in both offices.”

“She’ll be busy on this one.”

A minute later she yawned. “We should get some sleep. Or at least try,” she said.

She was right. He’d woken this morning into a nightmare and hadn’t had time or thought to even run a comb through his hair. His only consideration for the last fourteen hours had been Tara and he knew she would be his purpose until she was home safe. Yet, as he met the blue smoke of Kate’s eyes, he felt oddly connected, calm.

Minutes seemed to tick by like hours. She yawned again and stretched out on one of two leather sofas that rested against opposing corners of the sprawling office. He got up and brought a blanket to her, laying it gently over her.

“You should get some sleep, too,” she suggested.

But fifteen minutes later he knew she wasn’t going to sleep, either. He could hear her turn this way and that. He stood at the window, the thought of sleep an impossibility. He leaned against the ledge. There was nothing for them to do and nowhere for them to go, and it was killing him.

Suddenly her phone buzzed a warning for an incoming text message. He turned around and switched on a nearby light as she sat up, the blanket spilling around her waist, and pulled her phone from her pocket. There was something oddly erotic at seeing her in that state, sleepy, although she hadn’t slept, her hair mussed, as if she’d just had a passionate... He bit back the thought.

“I didn’t know that you left my number for the tower dump info,” she said.

“My phone stays here,” he said, his voice husky with conflicting emotion, fear for Tara, desire for Kate. Only one of those emotions was acceptable and it seemed he could control neither. “I’ll take the satellite phone.”

“I suppose I should have assumed that as we’re not taking your phone with us.”

“Right. Zafir will be acting in my stead. Pretending to be me.”

She paused as she read the message. She frowned. “The location changed slightly. Barb says the original call came from thirty miles southeast of Marrakech.” She scrolled down and then looked up.

“We head out at first light exactly as we planned, nothing changes,” he said. “Anything else?”

“I’d suggest we leave earlier. We could be going deep into the desert or not.” She shrugged. “It’s a crap shoot at this point and we don’t know what we might encounter. We can make up time on the highway at night, head in the general direction of that call. That way, if anything goes wrong or changes—we’re already on the road. I’d feel better about that. I’m sure you would, too.”

Minutes passed and turned into an hour. The silence was becoming unbearable.

Then Emir’s phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket and looked at the caller ID.

“Faisal.”

He was surprised, and yet oddly not, to see that it was his brother. Faisal was the only one in the family who hadn’t known about Tara. He guessed that was no longer the case.

“Yeah,” he answered, thinking how few telephone conversations he had with Faisal except on a business level. They usually communicated by text. That fact alone told him that Faisal knew what had happened.

“I heard about Tara, man.” There was tension and worry straining Faisal’s voice.

Emir gripped the phone, wishing he had news, something to give his brother, hope for all of them. Faisal was close to Tara in ways neither he nor the rest of his brothers were. For Zafir and Emir, and even Talib, she had been the child they had raised. For Faisal, who was nearest in age, she was his childhood playmate and friend, and even now, as adults, they were close to each other. That was one of the key reasons why Emir didn’t trust Faisal not to go off on a mission to kill those who had taken his sister. As a result, they had delayed telling him.

He’d meant to call in the minutes before he put together what was needed to take him and Kate safely into the desert, but Faisal had beat him to it. “How’d you find out?”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Soon. I didn’t want...”

“I had a right to know.”

“I know and I would have...” He stopped. He’d waited too long. But what was done couldn’t be undone and justification wouldn’t change anything. “Who told you?”

“Talib called.”

“Talib,” he said, and his voice held little inflection as he fought a red cloud of anger. At another time he would have torn a strip off Talib for going against his wishes. But this was an emotional time for all of them. Faisal needed to be told. Emir had just wanted to ensure that the way Faisal heard wouldn’t set him off.

“Where are you?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer, knowing that Faisal could be impulsive when it came to something this serious, especially if it involved Tara. His fist clenched and his temple pounded, and he didn’t want to hear the answer. His brother could be on a flight to Morocco for all Emir knew. That was the last thing they needed. Too many people looking and Tara could pay with her life. He turned, startled as a gentle hand touched his arm, and he was looking into blue eyes that reminded him of an azure sea. He took a step back, looked away from her mesmerizing eyes, unsure what to make of Kate’s touch, but her intent was clear. Calm down.

“At home.” Faisal’s voice was strained. “But I’m debating if that’s smart, if...”

Relief flooded through him that Faisal hadn’t boarded a plane and wasn’t halfway across the Atlantic on his way there. Hearing his voice...for a moment it was like Tara was in this room, like everything was right. But that wasn’t the case. She was still missing. But Faisal was cooperating, for now. “Stay there. We don’t need—”

“Me flying over there.” Faisal cut him off. “And killing the creeps who did this and anyone else who stands in my way?” Anger and sarcasm laced his words. “Don’t worry. I’m not coming over. Not yet. I know we need calm heads to find them and get Tara back, but once that’s done...” His words trailed off.

“We’re doing everything necessary—”

“Stop!” Faisal warned. “I know you’re on this. Adam’s already briefed me. No worries,” he said before Emir could add anything to that. “Adam will be kicking butt if I make a move to go over there. But, man, I can’t do nothing. At least, I’m having a hard time doing it.” He laughed. A dry, humorless sound that seemed to make fun of his words more than anything else. “Can you find her? Will you be enough, you and K.J.?”

“We have to be. We need you in Wyoming,” Emir reiterated, knowing it was a fact Faisal was well aware of and, despite what he’d said, probably the one reason he was still there. They’d acquired a number of high-profile cases over the last months and Emir only expected more. And, like Faisal, Talib was also occupied with managing their office here, at least until Tara was found. The only difference was that Talib could still be involved, if necessary, for he could be here on a minute’s notice, unlike Faisal. He knew that would be tough for Faisal to take, but it was how it had to be.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, an edge to his voice that wasn’t normally there. “Damn. I just hope she’s not frightened.”

Frightened. It was a word that hung thick and dark between them. They’d rather have Tara pissed than frightened, but reality danced and darted unspoken between them.

“We’ll find her.” Emir felt like he was repeating a phrase he’d committed to in blind faith. But this couldn’t end any other way than the way he wanted it to end—with Tara, at home laughing with them and at them, as she always did.

“You’re still at the compound?” Faisal asked.

“Yeah,” Emir said. “But not for long. I’ll fill you in soon. Kate and I—”

“Kate?” Despite the gravity of the situation, there was an amused edge to Faisal’s voice that made Emir feel oddly defensive.

“K.J.,” he said, shifting to the initials that it seemed everyone else used, and yet she’d asked him to call her Kate. But it was more than that. To him, she was Kate, not K.J. He shifted the phone from his left ear to his right, as if that would change the fact that his brother had just hinted there might be something in his feelings for Kate that was more than employer and employee. Utterly ridiculous. He liked her. They were partners in this case, nothing else. “We’re heading out just before dawn. We’re trying to play it low-key, not look like we’re doing anything more than waiting.”

“So what do you have on them?”

“Not much. We think there might be two groups, unorganized, possibly not working together. We’ll track them to the last phone call and from there, after what Ahmed said, we think they might be heading into the Sahara.” He hesitated. What they had was so little—nothing to go on. “Zafir will handle negotiating with them going forward.” He didn’t mention the fiasco at the airport. None of that was relevant, not now, at least not to Faisal, and could only convince him that he was needed. Right now, giving him less information was for the best, as was involving less people.

“Exactly what I would have done,” Faisal said shortly, the frustration evident in his voice.

“Look, I’ll be in touch.” Emir hesitated again. “If you have any...”

“Ideas. Yeah, you bet I’ll call. And, by the way, about K.J.—Kate,” he corrected, that infuriating hint of amusement back in his voice. “You might only have known her for a short time, but I believe our father fell for Mother in the space of twenty-four hours.” He chuckled at his dig.

“We’ll find her,” Faisal said, the humor replaced by an edgy determination.

“We will,” Emir repeated and clicked off. So far he’d managed to ensure that Faisal was staying put, for now. He sank back in the rich leather chair that had been his father’s, put his elbows on the massive desk and lowered his head to his arms.

“Bloody lie,” he muttered, for, despite his words, in his heart he was very afraid there was the possibility of failing, of losing Tara. It was a possibility he’d refused to admit but it was a fear that had harbored like a thorny intruder in his heart since the beginning.