Stolen by the Sheik (Black Towers Book 2)

by Suzanne Rock

  Liv stopped pacing and stared. “You honestly think that’s all that will happen?” When Vi gave her a blank stare, she continued. “People are scared. There is one thing that unifies the people in this country more than any other, and that is fear of a terrorist attack.”

  “But they will have a trial...”

  “He might not make it to trial,” Liv said.

  “Accidents happen,” Deema whispered as she sat down on the couch.

  “Exactly. These cops are itching to close a case. When that happens, sometimes they will overlook the fact that the evidence is circumstantial.”

  “They’d never do that.”

  “Do you want to take that chance? These guys are under enormous pressure. If Nayo isn’t their terrorist, they basically need to start over at square one. Neither their bosses nor the public will be very happy with them.”

  Vi turned to Deema. “I didn’t know.”

  Deema patted the cushion next to her. “It’s okay, Vi. It wasn’t as if there was anything you could have done to stop it.”

  Vi sat down and folded her hands in her lap as she digested all of this information. “I really thought that they’d just lock him away until everything got cleared up.”

  “Yeah, just like they did to that marathon bomber up in Boston.” Liv shook her head and resumed her pacing.

  “Why don’t I go fix us some food,” Vi said, pushing off the couch. She wanted to get away from this conversation and do something useful instead.

  “Thanks, Vi.” Deema said, giving her hand a quick squeeze as she walked by. “Perhaps we could just go down there and explain the situation,” Deema suggested after a long moment.

  Liv shook her head. “I tried that. It didn’t work.” She began to pace. “I think the only way we can truly help him is if we find this person who is impersonating him and bring him to justice.” She stopped in front of Deema. “Was there anyone in particular who had in in for Nayo?”

  “Had it in?”

  “Wanted to see him suffer.”

  Deema frowned for a moment in thought. “There are many people. His family holds a lot of power in our country. There are many who wish that power for themselves.”

  “But killing Nayo does nothing while his father is still alive.”

  “Yes, but his father is old and hard to touch without going through numerous bodyguards. Nayo was never one for formality. He would be much easier to reach.” She thought for a moment. “There would be ceremony and protocol for his funeral. The killers would know where his father was at certain times and could set up an assassination. . .”

  “But if Nayo and his father died, wouldn’t his brother be next in line?”

  Deema thought for a moment. “His brother is out of the country with the radicals. It would be very easy for an accident to happen out in the desert while they were training. . .”

  “That’s true. Something still doesn’t add up, though.” Liv rubbed her temples and headed out of the living room. “Follow me.”

  “Where are we going?” Deema asked as she stood.

  “To the computer. There has to be something that we’re missing.”

  “Dinner’s ready!” Violet shouted as she made her way back into the living room, almost bumping right into Liv and causing her to jump. “Oh sorry. I didn’t realize you were right there,” Vi said.

  “That’s okay.” Liv focused on her breathing until her heartbeat began to slow.

  “There wasn’t much to work with in the kitchen,” Violet said. “But I was able to put together a salad. Anyone want some?”

  “Not now, Vi,” Deema said. “Liv might have a way to save Nayo.”

  Vi frowned. “But the food will go bad—“

  “Later, Vi.” Deema turned to Liv. “Let’s go.

  Liv led the way to the computer, where she sifted through Nayo’s notes and articles. After a few moments, Deema pulled up a chair and they both began searching in earnest. Vi came in periodically, muttering under her breath that they were making too much of a fuss, and she was sure that the police were going to operate by the book, but for the most part she left them alone.

  “It has to be his brother,” Liv said after a few hours went by. “There’s no other explanation.”

  “No.” Deema shook her head. “It can’t be.”

  “Why?”

  “Jamal may be radical, but he has strong ties to family. He, more than Nayo, is deeply rooted in tradition. He knows that if Nayo does or is found incapacitated and can’t take over the throne, his family’s fragile hold on the country will fall apart.”

  “But he will be next in line.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Deema said. “Jamal is a conceited man. I can’t see him doing something like this and not claiming responsibility. It would gain him power with his radical group. Besides, he hasn’t been in the capital for years. He’s been spending his time in Iran. . .” Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. “While the group he is with is radical, they are very weak. I don’t see them as having the funds to pull something like this off.”

  “So we are back to square one,” Liv said. “We have nothing.”

  “Let me see.” Deema turned the computer toward her and played the news reel once more. “There.” She stopped on a shot taken outside the Chinese Theater.

  “What?” Liv leaned forward and narrowed her gaze.

  “Look at that headdress.”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s a niqab.”

  “I what?”

  “A niqab.” Deema waved her hand in the air. “It’s a . . . how do you call it. A headdress that covers the face. It is typically worn with the abaya.”

  Liv shook her head. “You’re losing me.”

  “In some countries men will wear a niqab, but it isn’t common, particularly in the city.”

  Liv straightened and stared at the computer screen. “Are you saying . . .?”

  “That this is a woman? I believe so, yes. Or a man who does not know much of the subtleties of Arab culture. I have never seen Nayo, nor any other man in my country, wear a niqab. Only women.” She narrowed her gaze and leaned in closer to the computer. “And that scarf. . .” She glance up. “Can you make it bigger?”

  “I can try.” After a little trial and error, Liv enlarged the picture on the screen.

  “There.”

  “What?”

  “See how it is frayed on the end there? That was when I tore it last week.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m not certain, but I think that’s my scarf.”

  Liv stared at Deema as she digested her words. “But you didn’t plant those bombs. Did you?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Then who is wearing your scarf?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Hey ladies,” Vi called from downstairs. “I think you better come see this.”

  Liv raised her brows at Deema.

  “We better go see what she wants,” Deema said.

  “Yeah.” Liv followed Deema downstairs.

  “In here,” Violet said as they approached the first floor.

  Liv found her standing in the middle of the living area, holding the remote. She waved it at the television set. “They’re playing the footage from when they brought in Nayo.”

  Liv stared at the screen as the angry mob gathered outside the police stationhurled insults to a handcuffed Nayo as he was brought in for questioning.

  “Oh my God.” Liv sank down onto the couch. “He didn’t have those bruises on his face when he had left the house.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Deema sat down next to her and took her hand. “It’s worse than we thought.”

  Like the mob, the reporter was merciless, his thinly-veiled contempt oozing out of his commentary like a festering wound.

  “Doesn’t anyone care about the truth?” Deema asked.

  “He’ll never survive the questioning,” Liv said, remembering his words. “He’s never g
oing to see the inside of a jail cell. There’s too much hatred and fear.”

  “I don’t understand,” Vi said. “This isn’t supposed to happen.”

  “We have to do something, Olivia.” Deema squeezed Liv’s fingers. “They’re going to kill him.”

  Chapter 11

  “I don’t know what to do,” Liv said. “We’re just three people. We can’t fight the entire police force.”

  “This was never supposed to happen.” Tears streamed down Vi’s face as she sank down into the couch.

  “What do you mean?” Liv asked.

  Deema sat down next to her. “You couldn’t have prevented any of this.”

  “You’re wrong.” Vi looked up and met her lover’s gaze. “This is all my fault.”

  “How could it possibly be your fault?” Liv asked, drawing her attention.

  “I was the one who placed the bombs,” Vi said. “It was me.”

  Deema removed her hands and stood. Vi reached for her, but Deema backed away, putting distance between them. “Explain.”

  Vi took a deep breath and stared down at her hands. “You were being forced to marry him. I thought . . . I thought that if I could bring him a little shame, your father would call off the marriage. So I reached out to his brother.”

  “Jamal?” Liv asked.

  “Yes.” Vi turned toward Liv. “I convinced Jamal that if we got Nayo out of the way, we could both have what we wanted. Nayo would be seen as unfit to rule and Jamal would be next in line for the kingship. . .” Vi turned to Deema. “And I’d be free to have a relationship with you.”

  “And he agreed to this?” Deema asked.

  “Not at first. It was Taz who eventually convinced him.”

  “Taz was Nayo’s best friend,” Liv said, trying to wrap her head around the information.

  “Taz was tired of listening to Nayo talk about the westernization of his country. He thought that Nayo had no respect for the old ways, and would eventually homogenize their people until they became fat and lazy, like Americans.”

  “But Taz agreed to come to America with Nayo.”

  “He saw it as an opportunity,” Vi explained. “We had already tried to bring him shame in his own country, but our efforts were thwarted. Taz thought that if we tried something in America, it would show his father that sending people over here was too dangerous.” She turned to Deema. “But then something went wrong. They were never meant to get caught. Then Taz got shot and. . .” She swallowed and looked at her hands. “Things got out of control. We were just supposed to scare and embarrass him, not kill anyone.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Deema said.

  “I did it for you.” Vi stood and closed the distance between them. “For us.” She reached out for Deema, but the Arab woman retreated, as if stung.

  “You need to go to the police with this.”

  “I can’t. They’d throw me in jail.”

  “You have lied and put people’s lives in danger.”

  “The bombs never would have gone off. They were just decoys—”

  “It doesn’t matter. What you did was dangerous and selfish.” Deema turned to Liv. “Could you take us to the police station?”

  “I can’t go there. They’ll kill me!” Vi shouted.

  “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re American. I’m sure that will give you some entitlements that Nayo doesn’t have.”

  “She’s right.” Liv grabbed her purse. “We’ll have to take public transportation.”

  Deema nodded. “That’s fine.”

  “But—”

  Deema held up her finger. “If you love me, if you’ve ever loved me, then you will do this.” She straightened. “What you did was dishonorable, and I cannot be with a person who has no honor.”

  “I don’t want to go to jail.”

  “You should have thought of that before you developed this plan.” Deema placed her hand on Vi’s shoulder. “I ran away from my country because women were treated like objects. Here, you have done the same.”

  “I wanted us to be together.”

  “You have framed an innocent man for your own selfish gain.”

  “I did it for love.”

  “You treated me like an object to be won. If I wanted that, I would have stayed in my own country and married a man I did not love, and who had no love for me.”

  Vi nibbled her lower lip in defeat. “If I go to the police station . . . will there still be a chance for us?”

  Deema took in a shaky breath and withdrew her hand. “Possibly, but only if you fully repent and correct the harm you have caused.”

  “Come on,” Liv said before anyone changed their minds. “Let’s go.”

  ***They took a taxi to the police station. Liv tossed some bills at the driver and slammed the door behind her, sprinting a few steps to catch up with Vi and Deema who were already pushing their way through the mob blocking the front doors. Finally making it through the doors, they reached the front desk of the police station.

  “We need to speak with the police chief immediately,” Liv all but shouted at the man behind the desk. “We have vital information pertaining to the bomb threats.”

  “Okay ma’am, take a deep breath. He’s currently unavailable. Why don’t you three take a seat over there and wait.” He said, gesturing to a few chairs against the wall.

  “You don’t understand. This can’t wait. A man’s life is at stake!” Liv was afraid they were already too late. Every second that passed put Nayo in more danger.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down. If you can’t I’ll have to have one of our officers escort you off the premises. The chief is very busy, we’ve just captured a terrorist you know.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, you’ve got the wrong man, he’s inn…

  “I planted the bombs.” Vi cut her off.

  “What did you just say?” the man said, shock clearly written all over his face.

  “I planted the bombs. It was me. But they weren’t even real bombs. This is just all out of control.” Tears started to roll down Vi’s face as the man behind the desk spoke quietly into the phone.

  Three officers came out front and took Vi to the back of the police station to take her statement.“I’m so sorry Deema. Forgive me,” she said as took her away.

  “I know.” Deema said, tears stinging her eyes.

  Deema and Liv waited in silence for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Nayo walked into the waiting area, escorted by Officer Buzz Cut who had questioned Liv earlier in the day.

  “Well, Mr. Darzi you’re free to go. Sorry for the mix up,” he said.

  “Thank God.” Liv jumped out of her seat and ran to Nayo, enveloping him with her arms and squeezing him tight.

  “Liv, what’s going on? Not that I’m not grateful, but what happened?” Nayo asked.

  Deema stood from her chair, somber, and turned to Officer Buzz Cut.

  “What of Violet, then?” she asked.

  “Your girlfriend told us everything that happened. She’s still giving her official statement and will be detained while an investigation of her claims is held.”

  “Violet? What’s he talking about?” Nayo asked.

  “Shh. I tell you once we get out of here,” Liv whispered to him.

  They turned to Deema. “Are you coming?” Nayo asked

  “I’m going to stay, I want to make sure Violet is okay. Maybe see her if they’ll let me. I’m so sorry, Nayo. I had no idea.” She gave Nayo a quick hug and returned to her chair.

  On the way back to Cole’s, Liv explained everything to Nayo. She told him how Vi had orchestrated this whole thing just to be with Deema. After the shock and anger wore off, she just felt sad for Deema and Vi. Clearly there was a strong love there. One that would never be allowed to be.

  The finished gathering up what few things they had left behind at Cole’s place and were doing one last quick scan of the kitchen to make sure they didn’t miss anything.

  “
I don’t want you to go.” Liv threaded her arms around his neck.

  “Liv, don’t.” He pressed his forehead against hers and placed his hands along her lower spine. “You know I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to sort things out with my father.” He lifted his head and kissed her forehead. “There is so much he doesn’t know about American culture. Someone needs to teach him.”

  “Will he make you marry if you go back?”

  He hesitated for a moment before responding. “Deema doesn’t graduate from the university for a couple more months. I’m sure if we approach the family together, something can be arranged.”

  “But your father—“

  “Is a hard man, but not impossible.” He slid his thumb over her cheek. “I’ve had to deal with him my entire life. Trust me on this. It is better that I go back now and explain things, then to hide here in the States indefinitely.” He hooked his finger under her chin. “My family does not look kindly on someone who hides his head in the sand. If I want my father to respect me, then I need to face him.”

  “Then I’ll go with you.”

  “No.” he traced her lips with his thumb. “You know nothing of our culture, and there are many in my country who still hate the westerners.” He sighed and dropped his hand. “I will work with my family to find some sort of common ground, but these things take time. If you come with me now, it would be far too dangerous. People will see me as being defiant and be unwilling to work with me.”

  She sighed and slid her hands down over his muscular chest. “I suppose this is goodbye, then.”

  “No.” He took her hand and kissed her palm. Liv’s skin warmed under his touch, and she fought back the urge to cry. “Not goodbye. Just . . . see you later. Once my father sees my ideas, things will be safer. I will come back for you then.”

  “But what if your father doesn’t see your way of thinking?”

  “Have faith, Olivia. Someday, when things are better, I will return for you. I promise.” He tightened his grip on her fingers and brushed his lips against hers. The touch was soft and gentle, and Liv’s body immediately opened up to it. She slipped her hands back up around his shoulders as he reached around and grabbed her backside. Liv tilted her head and parted her lips, inviting him further.