Seized by the Sheik

by Ann Voss Peterson

  Callie’s father switched off his spotlight. He circled Efraim on a tall, chestnut gelding and stopped in front of him. “Russ?”

  Callie’s brother gathered all the horses’ reins in one hand and braced his rifle on the fork of his saddle, covering Efraim. “Got him.”

  Callie’s father dismounted and took over the vigil.

  “Dad, this is ridiculous,” Callie said, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Sheik Efraim is a foreign dignitary. He did not shoot out the tires on Timmy’s ATV.”

  “Callie, hitch Sasha to the post.”

  Callie didn’t move. “He was also with me.”

  “Really? How long was he with you? Every moment?”

  Callie didn’t answer.

  “Just as I thought.”

  “Dad, a man has been murdered.”

  “And we’re lucky your brother wasn’t murdered, too.”

  “We need to call the sheriff,” she prodded. “And Sheik Efraim’s people at the Wind River Ranch.”

  “We will.” Her father’s tone softened, giving in. He offered his daughter a nod. “But we’ll do it in the house…where the phone is, all right?”

  Callie glanced at Efraim and pressed her lips together in a grim smile. “The sheriff, he’ll find Fahad’s murderer. I promise.”

  How she could promise something over which she had no control, he couldn’t understand, but he returned her press of the lips just the same.

  “Russ,” Callie’s father said, turning to the remaining brother. “Put up the horses.”

  Russ put his own rifle away and gathered the reins from his father, a horse on either side of his own. “What do you want me to do with the dead guy?”

  A wave of emotion swept over Efraim. He closed his eyes against it.

  He felt closer to Fahad than to his own brother or to his sisters whom he barely knew. Losing Fahad was more than losing his security man; it was like losing a leg, a part of him. And he had no close family, no strong beliefs, nothing to use as a crutch.

  “Tie the horse in a stall,” Callie’s father directed. “Just leave him on the saddle. We’ll let the sheriff deal with him.”

  Deal with him. Hours tied to a horse. Then being shunted off on a gurney. Poking and prodding. An autopsy.

  Efraim tried to block thoughts of the indignities to Fahad’s remains that would doubtlessly follow. There was little he could do to restore his cousin’s dignity until he learned who his murder was. Only then could he right a small portion of the wrong.

  The McGuire home was surprisingly warm and inviting inside. He would never guess that it was the home of men. In one of the few times Callie and he had talked, she’d mentioned her mother’s death. No doubt she had been quite a woman, just like her only daughter. Even though she was now gone, Efraim could see her mark on everything from the flower beds outside to the cheery yellow wall color inside. While Callie made phone calls, he sat at a large kitchen table made of sturdy oak, drank glass after glass of cold water and waited for the sheriff to arrive.

  The sheriff was nothing like what he expected. During his wait, he’d gotten a look at Callie’s father and brother Russ in the bright kitchen light. They looked very much like Callie. Freckled, blond, maybe a hint of red in Russ’s hair, average height, average build, what he thought of as the average American. He’d expected the same from the sheriff.

  He’d been wrong.

  With the black hair, black eyes and dark skin, Jake Wolf resembled no one in the McGuire house as much as Efraim himself. Obviously he wasn’t of Middle Eastern descent, but Native American. However, Efraim had to admit the resemblance in coloring made him feel a little more at ease. A little less the enemy.

  Efraim stood, his chair skidding backward, screeching on the floor. “Sheriff, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Callie’s father invited the sheriff into the kitchen with a wave of his arm. “Take a load off, Jake. Want some coffee?”

  The sheriff held up a hand. “Thanks anyway, Clay. I’m good.”

  Efraim suppressed a groan. So much for fantasizing that he had an ally. Apparently the sheriff and Callie’s father were on a first name basis. He couldn’t fool himself into thinking his version of events would be considered as seriously as Clay McGuire’s.

  “Suit yourself. Like I told you on the phone, Mr. Aziz here knows the dead man.”

  “He’s my head of security, my countryman and my cousin. His name is Fahad Bahir.”

  The sheriff flipped open a notebook and scribbled down the name. “Were you with him when he was shot?”

  “We heard the gunshots and found him afterward.” He told the sheriff how he’d ridden into the badlands, how Fahad had followed without his knowledge to protect him and how Callie had found him shortly before the first shot was fired.

  “You and Callie were together when this happened?”

  “Yes.”

  Callie’s father gave a low grunt, as if he didn’t believe any of it. Or maybe he just didn’t like the idea of his daughter and Efraim in the same…world.

  “After my horse broke free, we decided it would be best if Callie took Fahad and rode for her family’s ranch.”

  “And you?”

  “I stayed behind to face the gunman, to make sure he didn’t follow.”

  “So the two of you weren’t together the entire time.” Clay McGuire nodded as if that was as good as if Efraim had admitted to shooting the tires of his son’s vehicle. “You weren’t together but for a little while, were you?”

  The sheriff hooked a thumb in his wide leather belt. The howling wolf on the large silver buckle reminded Efraim of his own belt and the dagger which was lying somewhere among the sagebrush.

  “Clay,” the sheriff said. “I need to have a word with Callie and Mr. Aziz here about this murder. Alone. After that, you and I will have a chat with Timmy, add things up.”

  “All right, Jake.”

  Sheriff Wolf focused on Callie. “Is there someplace we can talk in private?”

  “My father’s study?” She glanced at her father, and he gave her a nod. “This way,” she said.

  They followed her down the hall and into a large room furnished in heavy wood and leather. A cross between an office and a personal retreat, the place was equipped with everything from computer and filing system to a large television and leather recliners. In addition to photos of rodeo action, the dark paneled walls were covered in the heads and horns of various large game.

  Sheriff Wolf motioned for Efraim and Callie to sit in the leather chairs. Callie collapsed into the closest. Efraim remained standing.

  “Tell me what happened,” the sheriff said.

  Between the two of them, they explained the events of the past hours in more detail, including the attack on Efraim and the injury to his ribs. Efraim watched Wolf’s eyes, but try as he might to guess the sheriff’s thoughts, he could read nothing.

  A reason to be nervous right there.

  When they finished, Wolf focused on Efraim. “What kind of business brings you and your countrymen to Wind River County?”

  Of all questions Efraim expected the sheriff to ask, that wasn’t on the list. It was also something he couldn’t answer. Not in any detail. The COIN agreement was secret, and until the agreement was negotiated and signed, it had to remain so. Too much was at stake and too many special interests wanted to kill the compact. Or just cut off a nice piece of it for themselves.

  Besides, after all Stefan had gone through, he didn’t trust local law enforcement. None of the COIN leaders did.

  Nor had Fahad.

  “You don’t need to know about that,” Efraim said.

  “A man has been murdered. His death might be tied to all that has been going on in my county the past few days—since, may I add, you and your friends at the Wind River Ranch and Resort rolled into town. I need to know every detail.”

  “I’m sorry, Sheriff. But Sheik Efraim is correct. He can’t talk about the reason he’s here.”

  Wol
f raised his black brows. “So am I to assume that your office is involved in this, Callie?”

  “I’m sorry, Jake. I really can’t confirm or deny anything. I came home to visit my dad and brothers.”

  “I’ve never known you to be uncooperative, Callie.”

  “I’m not being uncooperative. Neither is Sheik Efraim. We told you everything we know.”

  “I doubt that. A man was killed. Murdered. And why he was here in this country, what he was doing, who might want to stop him from doing it, all of that is important to my investigation. You know that.” He leaned forward, peering directly into Callie’s eyes, talking to her as if she was the only one in the room.

  But even though the sheriff’s words were directed at Callie, Efraim got the feeling the man was noting every movement he made, looking for signs of guilt.

  He stood straight, arms hanging still at his sides. He smoothed his features into the expressionless mask he wore during tense policy talks in his country, and the weekly games of American poker he had enjoyed with Fahad, and Fahad’s brother Kateb.

  “I’m not trying to hide anything from you, Jake. Sheik Efraim and the others are here on vacation. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “He and a handful of other royals enjoy vacationing together? That’s the official story?” The sheriff shook his head. “It’s gone beyond that, Callie. Way beyond. Things are serious. People are dying. From the sound of tonight’s events, your own brother could have been one of them. You have to tell me everything. If I’m to protect the people of Wind River County and uphold the law, I need to know what’s going on here.”

  “You just have to take my word for it, Jake,” Callie said in a calm voice.

  “And your role in his vacation?” The sheriff held up a hand.

  “I told you—”

  “That you’re just here to visit your family, I know. Come on, Callie. I’m not that gullible.”

  “Then think of me as a goodwill ambassador.”

  Efraim choked back a chuckle. She certainly was. Of all the Americans he’d ever met, she was the one bright beacon. The one person who made him feel as if the whole country wasn’t aligned against him.

  All the more reason he needed to get his head together.

  As if on cue, the office door swung open, and Callie’s father stepped in. “There are some men at the door, Sheriff. They want to talk to you.”

  The sheriff frowned. “Thanks, Clay. Can you tell them I’ll be there in a moment?”

  Callie’s father nodded and left the way he’d come.

  The sheriff pushed to his feet and leveled his black eyes on Efraim. A couple of inches taller, Sheriff Wolf was an imposing figure. He probably had intimidated more than a few criminals in his term as sheriff.

  Too bad Efraim was not easily intimidated. “You might as well go out and talk to your men, Sheriff. I have nothing left to say, and I really have to get back to the resort.”

  The door flew open. Two men in plain suits and short haircuts stepped into the room. The one half a step ahead stopped in front of Efraim. “I hope that’s not the case, Mr. Aziz, because the questions are only beginning.”

  CALLIE SHOT to her feet. She stepped toward the men. They looked like central casting’s idea of an FBI agent, but she asked the question anyway. “Can I see some ID?”

  The first to enter the room, a bland-looking man with short gray hair, flipped open his ID and handed it to her. The other didn’t move. Apparently his job was to fade into the woodwork and observe.

  She looked at the name. “Frank Priebus.”

  “That’s right.” He held out his hand for her to return the ID.

  Callie gave it to Jake Wolf instead. She doubted the sheriff could do any more than she could to stop the men from talking to Efraim, but at least she had to give him the opportunity to try.

  He glanced at the identification and thrust it back at Priebus. “I’m in the middle of a murder investigation here.”

  “No need to get territorial, Sheriff. You can have him back when we’re done with him.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “That depends on Mr. Aziz.” Priebus shot Efraim a pointed look, as if he should know what was expected. Tilting his wrist, he checked his watch before turning his attention back to Jake. “When our issues are resolved, you can drive down to Denver and pick him up.”

  Callie’s blood pressure spiked. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. If you think you can waltz out of here with the sheik, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “We didn’t drive all the way out to your ranch for our health, ma’am. We’re taking Mr. Aziz to the branch office. He has some serious issues to untangle.”

  Despite the years she’d worked for the U.S. government, she was still amazed at how much some government agents could talk and still divulge nothing. “What kind of serious issues?”

  “We’re not at liberty to talk about the specifics.”

  “I’m with the Office of Foreign Affairs. All I have to do is call the secretary and she’ll see that you’re reassigned to someplace a lot less interesting than Denver.”

  Priebus gave her a bored look. “Call away. And in the meantime, you can explain to us what interest a diplomat like you has with a man like this.”

  A muscle along Efraim’s jaw tensed.

  If someone had told Callie this day could get worse, she wouldn’t have believed it. But somehow things were getting worse with every minute that passed. She longed to help him, comfort him, even simply give him a little space to grieve his cousin’s death. But so far she had failed to provide him any of those things. So far, her plan to ride to her family’s ranch and call the sheriff had done nothing but cause him more pain. First the fear, hate and suspicion from her dad and brothers, then Jake Wolf’s questioning, now the FBI’s threats to take him into custody… By the time this night was over, Efraim would not want anything to do with the United States. He wouldn’t allow the acronym COIN uttered in his presence.

  And he certainly wouldn’t want her.

  She pushed away the personal pain that thought brought. She had a duty to keep the COIN alliance together. She had an obligation to Efraim as a compassionate human being. Her personal feelings had no place.

  And in light of how Efraim must feel about everything American right now—her included—no hope.

  “If you won’t answer, I’d be happy to call your office.”

  At least Priebus’s threats were getting a lot easier to handle. He must be getting tired. “Call away. My office is as good at playing its cards close to the vest as yours is.”

  Priebus flashed her a salesman’s smile. “Then maybe you’d like to enlighten me?”

  She tossed back a phony smile of her own. “I can’t discuss it with you.”

  “Discuss what, Callie?” Jake Wolf eyed her. “You said you were just welcoming the sheik on his vacation. What about a simple vacation is there to discuss?”

  She didn’t look at the sheriff. Jake Wolf was a good man. She’d even contributed to his campaign, eager to get the former, crooked sheriff ousted and an honest lawman in the office. Before this, she thought his dogged pursuit of the truth and refusal to cut anyone slack was a good thing. He was cleaning up a county steeped in corruption. But tonight his refusal to simply take her at her word was wearing thin. “I am here to welcome the sheik. And I would like to point out how unwelcoming all of you are being.”

  Priebus let out a hard guffaw. “You would have us welcome Mr. Aziz? I can see the Office of Foreign Affairs is a little behind the times.”

  If there was anything she hated, it was being condescended to. Especially by a man who didn’t know what the hell he was muddling into. “If you’ll call my office…”

  “Tell you what. We’ll call when we get Mr. Aziz to Denver.”

  “You aren’t taking Mr. Aziz to Denver.”

  “You don’t have the authority to stop us.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that if I were you.” If Priebus wasn’t going
to call the secretary, she would.

  Sheriff Wolf stepped up to Priebus. Taller than the FBI agent by several inches, Jake towered over the man. And next to Priebus’s staid suit and metrosexual vibe, Jake’s boots, well-fitting Wranglers and howling wolf belt buckle made him look rough. Almost dangerous. “What has this man done that involves the FBI?”

  “I can’t share that information with you.”

  “Do you even know? Or is that the reason you’re so set on scampering back to your superiors in Denver?”

  Priebus’s smart aleck attitude was gone, replaced by an emotionless void of a man strictly following procedure instead of thought. “We need to talk to him.”

  “Then you can do that here.”

  Priebus glanced around the room. “We require someplace a little more secure.”

  Callie had an idea. It wouldn’t solve the problem, but it might give her a chance to make some calls. She just hoped Jake would go along with it. “How about the sheriff’s department? Or isn’t a jail secure enough for you?”

  Efraim shifted his eyes to look at her.

  She tried to give him a look conveying that it would be okay, but she wasn’t sure she succeeded.

  Jake paused for a moment, then nodded. “You can use our interrogation room. And when you’re done asking whatever it is you so badly need to ask, you won’t have to drive him all the way back to Dumont.”

  Priebus gave him a weak version of the insincere smile he’d flashed Callie earlier. “That’s generous of you.”

  Jake shrugged. “I always try to cooperate with federal law enforcement.”

  “Do you now? That would be a change from the last sheriff around here.”

  Of course. Now Callie could see why the FBI had come to Wind River County spoiling for a fight. They hadn’t fully realized how much the guard had changed. “Sheriff Wolf is a fair man. I trust you are, too, Special Agent.”

  “Oh, I’m very fair. When fairness is warranted.”

  Although still talking to Priebus, she glanced at Efraim. “I trust in this case, you’ll find it is.”