by Liz Adair
“Well, I can understand that. Police where he comes from are probably corrupt.”
“He wasn’t talking about police in the Middle East. He was talking about American police and racial profiling.”
Deputy Flint looked at his shoe tips, obviously digesting the information. Looking up, he asked, “How do you know about this attack?”
“I had loaned him my car while Laurie and I went to St. George in the pickup. On the way home, we found the car parked behind a building with him unconscious inside it.”
“I see. And he didn’t want you to call the police?”
“He said you’d either think he was a terrorist…” Spider let the word hang for a moment. “…or, because of the color of his skin, you’d suspect him of being an illegal Hispanic.”
Deputy Flint grimaced and scratched the back of his head. “Okay. Let’s start again. You obviously don’t think he had anything to do with the bomb in your car. Why not?”
“Well, first because he’s a friend. Second, because he didn’t have opportunity. Or motive. Third, because— do you have his cell phone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what time the bomb went off? It was about nine-thirty, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if you look in the notes section on Karam’s phone, he was jotting down the definition of jam at the precise time of detonation.”
“Jam? Like strawberry preserves?”
Spider shook his head. “Like a bunch of musicians getting together to play. He was heading over to the Old Barn for the jam session. Karam teaches American History.” Spider smiled as he saw the deputy’s eyebrows rise. “He gathers idioms and puts them in a list in his cell. That’s what this citizen saw him doing.”
Deputy Flint again looked at the shiny toes of his shoes, as if a decision could be read there. Apparently it could. He looked up and said, “I’ve got a man that can examine the cell phone. If that checks out, I’ll release him into Mrs. Latham’s custody.”
“It’ll check out.”
“The FBI is coming in to go over the car. Mr. Mansour is not to leave the area until we’ve given permission.”
“He can’t leave. That was his car that blew up.”
Deputy Flint blinked. “I thought you said it was your car.”
“It was, but just yesterday morning I traded the Yugo for his broken-down E-type Jaguar.”
“That was his car? Over at Shorty’s?” The deputy put his elbows on the chair arms and leaned in. “Now it’s yours? I was over there last week looking at it. What a beauty.” He cocked his head. “Why would he trade it for— no offence— a little orange box with wheels?”
“And flames. Don’t forget the flames.”
“I wasn’t forgetting them.”
Spider smiled. “It’s a long story. Short version is that he needs to get on his way, and the Yugo would be a ride out of town. He had one when he was young. Might have been a bit of nostalgia there.”
Deputy Flint stood. “We called in the FBI because this had the look of a terrorist bombing, but even if it’s not, I’ll be glad to have their people looking at the evidence around the car. When they get here, I’ll tell them about the assault on Mr. Mansour yesterday. Most probably the two incidents are related. Do you have any enemies, anyone who would want to hurt you?”
“Well, yes.” Spider pointed at the chair. “Sit down, Deputy. This may take a while.”
LAURIE AND KARAM, still wearing Laurie’s gift around his neck, arrived about the time the patient was released from the hospital.
Spider left with a gauze pad taped to his forehead and an admonition to lie low for twenty-four hours. He grumbled at being taken out in a wheelchair but ended up accepting a boost from Karam to get up in the pickup. Laurie drove back to the hotel, and the trip from the parking lot to their room turned Spider into a dishrag. He gratefully lay down on the bed, and when Laurie covered him with a blanket, he kissed her hand.
She and Karam took up residence in the only two chairs in the room, opening books and quietly reading. Their silent presence weighed on Spider, and he felt like he needed to make conversation or entertain them in some way. He raised his head and said, “You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be fine.”
Laurie smiled. “I wouldn’t feel good about leaving you alone.”
Spider put his head down and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t relax. Each time he heard a page turn, he waited for the sound of the next. He raised up on an elbow. “Really. I want you to go. Take Karam and do something wonderful. He’ll be leaving soon. Go see the sand dunes or run up to Zion National Park. I can’t rest with you here.”
Laurie put down her book. “Oh. I didn’t realize that. Do you want something to eat before we go?”
He shook his head. “Right now, I just want to sleep.”
“You got it.” Laurie kissed him and motioned to Karam. Still in quiet mode, they tiptoed out of the room and pulled the door softly shut.
By mid-afternoon Laurie must have forgotten about quiet mode. She breezed in, letting the door bang shut behind her. “Wake up, sleepyhead. I’ve got take-out from Big Al’s.”
Spider surfaced. It took a moment to figure out where he was and the chain of events that brought him to this moment. Then he got up and crept over to sit in the chair. He took the paper bag she handed him and looked inside it. “No chocolate shake?”
Laurie shook her head. “It’s so hot out, I was afraid it would melt before we got home.”
Spider pulled the corners of his mouth down.
“Don’t pout. We brought you some sweet potato fries, and Karam’s gone to the vending machine to get you a Pepsi.”
Karam came in on cue with the soda and handed it to Spider.
“Thanks.” Spider pulled out a burger and unwrapped it. “Where you been?”
Karam flashed a wide smile. “We went riding.”
“Riding? I thought you didn’t do horses, Karam.” Spider fished the bag of fries out of the sack.
“I never have before, but Laurie assured me that Scout would be very tame.”
“It’s the pinto that I rode the other day,” Laurie said. “I knew he’d do fine on her.”
Spider flattened the sack on his lap as a makeshift tray. “Did Jack or Amy ride with you?”
Laurie snitched one of his fries. “Nope. They weren’t home.”
“Did they go to church?”
“I don’t think so. The pickup and horse trailer were gone, and Taffy wasn’t in her stall. He must have taken her somewhere.”
“Huh,” Spider grunted. “So you just stole a couple of his horses and went joyriding?”
“He told me I could come out and ride anytime. It was great. There was a hard rain last night— did you hear it?”
“I don’t think I was conscious at the time.”
“Well, there was quite a bit of water running in the arroyos still, and the rocks were deep red.”
Karam added, “Yes, and the air smelled so good.”
“That’s great.” Spider put his half-eaten burger down on the flattened paper bag and jerked his head toward a chair. “Sit down, Karam. Let’s talk about the car situation.”
As Karam took the other chair, Laurie sank down on the bed. “What car situation?”
Spider answered her question with another. “Remember when I mentioned trading the Yugo for another car?”
Laurie wrinkled her forehead. “Last night? Vaguely. A lot has happened since then.”
“Well, I traded it to Karam for the car he has in the shop. He was going to leave early this morning in the Yugo.”
Laurie looked from Spider to Karam. “I’m trying to figure out which of you has more completely lost his mind.”
Karam leaned forward, his face serious. “If you knew all the factors involved, you would understand that it is a very good solution.”
Spider held up a fry. “Was a very good solution.”
“So what are we going to do?” Laurie asked.
&n
bsp; Karam pointed first at Laurie and then at Spider. “You do not need to worry. The Yugo was my car. I had insurance coverage on it.”
Laurie laughed out loud, and Spider shook his head. “I doubt you’ll get anything for it.”
“And how are you going to get where you’re going?” Laurie added. “Can’t you wait however long it is until your other car is fixed?”
“It is not my car. It is yours.”
Laurie’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t think we’d hold you to that bargain.”
Karam laughed. “Spider can tell you there is more to the bargain than transportation. If you will take me to the airport in St. George, tomorrow, I will be in your debt.”
“Sure,” Spider said, offering the bag of fries to Karam. “No matter what Deputy Flint says, he can’t keep you from leaving. We’ll take you.”
Karam ate a couple of fries and then accepted the napkin Spider proffered. He wiped his hands and stood. “I think I will go back to my room and finish packing.”
Laurie stood, too. “What time do you need to be in St. George tomorrow?
“I have reservations to fly out at noon.”
“How about we leave at nine? I think I can make sure Spider’s up and dressed by then.” Laurie walked Karam to the door, accepted his thanks for a pleasant day, and closed the door after him.
Spider crumpled up the takeout bag and tossed it into the wastebasket. “I may have to take another nap.”
“Me too.” She yawned. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Spider chuckled as he got up and made his way to the bed. “Old Toby Flint say’s you’re quite a lady.”
She pulled the covers back for him. “What does he mean by that?”
“Well, I think you had him buffaloed. He’s probably never had someone occupy his office in protest.” He sat on the bed and lay back on the pillows, uttering a sigh. “That plumb wore me out.”
“You may have to stay here tomorrow and let me take Karam over by myself.”
He pulled up the covers and turned on his side. “The doctor said I should be better tomorrow. I wonder when we’re going to hear anything from the FBI.”
Laurie lifted the spread and lay down, spooning next to him even though he was between the sheets, and she wasn’t. “I hope not for a couple of hours.”
Spider clasped the hand that she put around him. He heard her sigh and moments later heard the regular breathing of sleep. He matched his breathing to hers and soon drifted off himself.
Laurie got her wish. Deputy Toby Flint rapped on the door at six o’clock in the evening. Spider reflexively threw back the covers and sat up, but Laurie was out of bed and heading for the door before he had even figured out where he was.
At the sound of Laurie’s sleepy voice and Deputy Flint’s official one, Spider stood and walked to the armchair. He got there just as she stepped back to admit their visitor.
“We were grabbing a nap,” Spider said. “Forgive the bed hair.”
“No problem, Deputy Latham.”
“I’m not in Kanab as a deputy. Call me Spider.”
Laurie pushed the side chair closer to Spider’s. “Have you got news for us?” She sat on the nearby bed.
“Some.” Deputy Flint dropped a plastic garbage bag on the floor and took the proffered chair. Spider noticed he had dark circles under his eyes, and his shoes no longer had a mirror polish.
The deputy apparently was doing his own assessing of Spider as he pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket. “Your black eye is purple this afternoon,” he said. “It was more of a liver color this morning. How does your head feel?”
“Pain pills are a wonderful thing. It doesn’t hurt a bit, and I’ve slept the day away.”
“Okay.” Deputy Flint took out a pair of reading glasses and put them on to consult his notes. “The FBI got here this morning, just after I left you. They brought a whole herd of people and a mobile lab. I guess anything that smells of terrorism is pretty high priority.”
“Were they disappointed?” Laurie asked. “I mean, when it turned out not to be?”
The deputy glanced at her over his glasses. “I’ll get to that in a minute. First, let’s talk about your Mr. Mansour.” He shifted in his chair. “It turns out that he’s the son of a very well respected, very wealthy, businessman and—” He paused as if practicing the word mentally before trying it aloud. “—philanthropist.” Again he looked over his glasses at Laurie. “Why didn’t you tell me that last night?”
“Would it have made any difference?” She spoke in a light, matter-of-fact tone. “It looked to me like a lot of people had made up their minds that because he was a Muslim, he set off the bomb.”
Spider broke in. “As a matter of fact, she couldn’t tell you because we didn’t know anything about his father. I’m as surprised as you are. But I’ll tell you something. That’s one fine young man.”
“Right.” Deputy Flint drew a line through the first item on his list. “He’s free to leave town anytime he wishes.”
Laurie smiled. “I was confident you’d see it that way.”
“Were you? Good.” He picked up the black garbage bag and handed it to Spider. “The FBI gave me this to give to you.”
“What is it?” Spider reached inside and pulled out Karam’s quilt. The back side was charred in places, but as he opened it up, the side with the appliquéd picture was undamaged.
Laurie whistled under her breath. “Isn’t that something? Where was it?”
Spider turned it over and looked at the burned patches. “It was right by the driver’s seat. I remember pushing it out of the way with my elbow.” He touched a place where heat had burned away the backing and melted through the inside fill. “That would have been me if it hadn’t been there. Karam would call that qadar.”
Deputy Flint leaned toward Spider. “You got something wrong with your throat?”
Laurie laughed. “No, he doesn’t. He was giving the word an Arabic pronunciation.” She patted Spider’s hand. “We’re suitably impressed. Now, what does the word mean?”
Spider smiled at her and translated. “Fate.”
Deputy Flint’s mouth turned down as he drew a line through the second item. “Now, for the bomb.” He cleared his throat. “Even if we hadn’t ruled out Mr. Mansour for other reasons, the FBI says that this was the work of—” The deputy’s eyes fell to his notes. “—an inept, domestic terrorist wannabe.”
“How do they know?”
“Several ways.” The deputy counted them on his fingers. “The type of black powder used, the type of detonator, the container that the bomb was in.” He chuckled. “They say they never seen one like this. It was in a stainless steel thermos.”
Spider sat up. “A thermos? I’ve never heard of that.”
“Neither had they. They thought maybe this guy wasn’t the brightest tool in the drawer and had heard about bombs being made from pressure cookers. Maybe he thought a thermos would work as well. Who knows?”
“Well, it seems to have worked,” Laurie said.
“Yes and no.” The deputy glanced at his notes. “It did go off and do some damage, but the stopper was made of plastic and gave way sooner than the casing. It made it a kind of a rocket. It tore through the engine compartment and firewall. Tore up both the front and then the backseat as it went through.” He grimaced. “If the seat had deflected it to where, ah, Spider was sitting, he probably wouldn’t be here.”
Laurie shivered.
Spider winked at her. “Lucky for me that Yugo seats aren’t rocket-proof.”
“They slowed it down enough that it couldn’t break through the back end, and it rattled around in the trunk for a bit. It was pretty beat up, but the FBI managed to find some useable prints on it.”
“Really?” Laurie sat up straighter. “Do they know whose fingerprints they were?”
Spider leaned over to where he could see Deputy Flint’ notebook. “Not so fast, Darlin’. He’s got one more item before fingerprints.�
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The deputy cleared his throat, and Spider wondered why a blush was spreading up his neck. “Don’t you, Deputy Flint?”
The officer grimaced. “I, ah, wasn’t going to mention that item. It was more a comment made by one of the agents, not part of the official paperwork.”
Spider leaned back and crossed his legs. “If it’s information, let’s have it.” He looked expectantly at the policeman.
The deputy sighed. “It was their opinion that this copycat terrorist did you a favor. They said that was the ugliest car they had ever seen.”
Spider threw back his head and laughed. “Thank you, Deputy. You just made my day. Cross that one off and let’s get on to fingerprints.”
“All right. Fingerprints. I wonder—” Deputy Flint looked from Laurie to Spider. “—would it be possible to have Mr. Mansour join us? I’ve got some pictures I’d like to have him look at.”
“Sure.” Laurie scooted up the bed to the phone on the bedside stand and dialed Karam’s room. She explained the situation, listened, and hung up the phone. “He’s on his way.”
“While he’s coming, I can tell you about the fingerprints.” Deputy Flint glanced at his notes. “They belong to a known felon, fellow by the name of Aldo De Pra.”
Spider blinked. “De Pra?”
The deputy turned the page toward Spider so he could see it. “I think I pronounced it right.”
“I’m sure you did. I’ve heard that name before. But where?” Spider rubbed his jaw.
A knock on the door signaled Karam’s arrival, and Laurie went to open it. “Come on in. You’ll have to sit by me on the bed,” she told him.
Deputy Flint stood as Karam came in, and he offered his hand. “Mr. Mansour. Thank you for coming. I apologize for the earlier problems.”
Karam smiled, shook the deputy’s hand, and then took a seat beside Laurie. “Tell me how I can be of service.”
The officer took out his phone and went through a series of menus before pulling up a photo. “The FBI identified the person who planted the bomb by his fingerprints. We think the bomb and the attack on you the day before—”
Spider raised a hand to interrupt. “I told him about that, Karam. In light of the bomb, I thought I should.”