Seized by the Sheik

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Seized by the Sheik Page 12

by Ann Voss Peterson


  George and Callie followed the woman into the bedroom.

  Efraim had to laugh. At thirty-eight, he was hardly a young man. And after the last day or so, he felt older than the sea.

  One of the dogs ambled over to him and sat on his foot. He shoved his snout under Efraim’s palm and scooped his hand onto his black head.

  Efraim scratched behind his ears. After the jump into the water, his rib cage had ached as if someone was beating his side with an ax. The cold had given him a bit of numbing relief. But now as he even started to grow marginally warmer, his side had resumed its ache.

  The man returned carrying a pair of faded jeans, a flannel shirt, a thick leather belt and tube socks. “Here you go. Afraid you’re going to have to go commando.”

  Efraim took the clothes. “That’s fine. Thank you.”

  “There’s a bathroom over there. Clean towels on the shelf. Help yourself. That is, if Bud will let you go. That’s his favorite thing, having his ears rubbed.” He clapped his hand on his thigh, and the dog reluctantly stood, releasing Efraim’s foot.

  When Efraim emerged from the airplane-size bathroom, Callie was sitting on one of the folding chairs in the kitchen. A towel wrapped her hair in a blue turban, bringing out the striking marine color of her eyes.

  The woman, Mercy, had turned on the oven and opened the door. Heat emanated through the kitchen in waves. She grabbed another metal chair and plunked it next to Callie’s. She took his wet clothing and hung it on another chair next to Callie’s wet jeans and T-shirt. “Coffee will be ready in a jif.”

  He could already smell the dark, rich scent. Seconds later Mercy took their cream-and-sugar orders and placed a big steaming mug in each of their hands.

  Efraim breathed deeply…well, as deeply as his ribs would allow. “Thank you.”

  Mercy waved his words away and bustled back to the sink. “Don’t mention it.”

  Efraim glanced at Callie. “It’s the middle of the night. You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  He wasn’t being silly. He was being grateful. He hadn’t seen a lot of kindness lately. Not in America. Not even among his own people. The kindness of Mercy and George made him feel as warm as the coffee, the clothing and the stove.

  He reached toward his soaked trousers. “Really, I can p—”

  Callie shook her head in a warning.

  He bit back the rest of his words. Too late.

  Mercy turned from the sink and scowled at him. “I sure hope you weren’t going to offer to pay. That would be ridiculous, and I won’t have that in my home. You’re our guests. Isn’t that right, George?”

  “Yep,” her husband called from the living area.

  “Thank you. I didn’t mean to offend you, though. I just wanted you to know how much we appreciate what you’ve done.”

  “No more than you would do for others, I’m sure.”

  Efraim stared at the glowing coils in the electric oven. He’d like to think that was true. These people had opened their home in the dead of night to strangers, clothed them, warmed them, taken care of them. All without accepting a dime, even though from the look of things, they could use it.

  “He wanted to use a phone, too,” George mumbled, still in the living room. He squinted and paced the room in circles. “Can’t find the damn receiver.”

  “Here, let me help.” Mercy bustled into the adjoining room.

  The dog shuffled over to Efraim and resumed his position under his palm.

  Callie turned to him with a tired smile. She was no longer shivering, and her cheeks were a delicate shade of pink that made her eyes twinkle even more. “See? I told you Americans aren’t all bad.”

  She was teasing, but he couldn’t ignore the stab of recognition. He’d certainly thought badly of Callie’s family, the protesters in Dumont and just about every other American who’d snagged his attention. He’d held their fear and prejudice against them. And in his mind, he’d decided they were emblematic of all Americans. He’d told himself only Callie was different. But he’d been wrong.

  He’d let his own fears, his own prejudice paint an entire country with the same brush, and he, of all people, should know better.

  Mercy didn’t know him, didn’t know Callie, and yet she opened her home to strangers her husband had fished from the river. She trusted them when she’d had no reason to trust. She’d taken care of them simply because they needed care.

  He cradled the hot coffee in his hands and offered Callie a tired smile. “You’re right. And when this is all over, I want you to show me more of your country. I want to see it through your eyes.”

  Chapter Twelve

  One call and a few minutes later Kateb and one of Sebastian and Antoine’s men were outside the trailer waiting for them in one of the rented SUVs. The two men were heavily armed, and Mercy’s forehead furrowed as she studied them. “I hope the two of you will stay safe,” she said, handing them their still-damp clothing.

  “Let me at least give you money for the clothing.”

  “Money? Heavens, no. These are old.” She pursed her lips together. “But if you like, you can return them when you’re done with them.”

  Callie nodded. “Yes. That’s what we’ll do.”

  They climbed into the backseat of the SUV, and Efraim felt a little sense of regret to be leaving these people without any concrete way to show them his thanks. Maybe when they sent back the clothing, they could fill the pockets with cash. He wondered if Mercy would find a way to send that back, too. Probably.

  On the drive home, Kateb filled him in on the Russians. The men hadn’t left the highway, and were still there when the deputy arrived. They’d driven past them, answering the lawman’s questions when they’d entered town. And when the deputy had let the Russians go, they’d returned to the diner.

  “At least they won’t track us to George and Mercy’s place,” Callie said. “I’d hate to have something happen to them just because we had the bad luck to wash up on their property.”

  “I’ll have someone keep an eye on them and make sure they’re okay.” With the repeated attacks on all the members of the coalition, he wasn’t sure where he’d find the manpower, but he’d manage. He certainly wasn’t going to let harm come to Mercy and George, not after the kindness they’d showed.

  Callie stiffened in the seat beside him.

  He tried to read her expression, but all he saw was alertness and determination. “What is it?”

  “My family. The truck is registered to Russ.”

  Retaliation against her family. He hadn’t thought of that. “We’ll send a car for them. I’ll arrange some rooms at the resort.”

  “They’d never go. Knowing my dad and brothers, they’d rather hunker down with their guns and dare the Russians to show up. But I’ll try.” She reached for her waist. “Oh, shoot.”

  He could guess the problem. “Your BlackBerry.”

  “I forgot it’s ruined.”

  His was, too. He reached a hand over the seat. “Kateb? We need a phone before we lose a signal.”

  Kateb didn’t move. “I don’t have mine with me.”

  Interesting. Efraim knew for a fact that Kateb always had his handheld with him. In fact, he thought he remembered seeing it on his belt tonight.

  So why had he lied about having it with him? Was he afraid Efraim would see something on it? Something he was trying to hide?

  He thought of the text message. The message had stated that the car bomb was meant to kill all of the royals, not just Amir. It had directed the dirty investigator to move to plan B. Jane Cameron had taken it back to the lab to try to determine where the text had originated.

  Stefan had said that question was still unanswered.

  Efraim eyed the back of his cousin’s head. He’d pegged Kateb as a lovesick and jealous suitor for Tanya. But just as she wasn’t a party girl looking to pick up men, maybe the role Kateb played in this mess wasn’t as it seemed either.

  Efraim sho
ok his head, not liking where his thoughts were leading. He hated thinking ill of his own people, but Stefan had learned the hard way that he could trust no one. And with the strange way Kateb was acting added to the fact that he’d slept with and given gifts to a woman working with the Russian mob, Efraim needed to be a bit suspicious. “Kateb? I know you have your phone. Hand it to me.”

  “So she can use it?”

  “So Callie can use it, yes.”

  “You trust her?”

  “More than I trust you right now. Yes.”

  “Very well.” Kateb handed Efraim the phone, his expression blank. He turned back in his seat and stared out the window.

  Efraim paged through the last few days’ worth of communications. All of it seemed like business, all of it legitimate except the six calls to the number Tanya had written on the matchbook she’d given to Fahad.

  Efraim let out a breath, more relieved than he wanted to admit. Kateb might be a lot of things they had yet to discover, but he hadn’t sent the text about the car bomb and plan B. At least not from this device.

  Satisfied, he handed it to Callie. While she was warning her father and brothers, he returned his focus to Kateb. “We met a woman tonight who knows you.”

  “A woman?”

  “In Dumont. Her name is Tanya.”

  It was dark in the SUV, but Efraim thought Kateb’s face took on a reddish tint.

  “How many times have you seen Tanya?”

  “I saw her when I wasn’t on duty. I don’t see how it should matter.”

  “It might matter a great deal.”

  Kateb glanced at the Barajan driver. “May we talk about this further back at the Wind River Ranch?”

  Efraim watched Kateb for a long minute. Was he trying to duck the questioning? Or did he really have something to tell Efraim, something he didn’t want the security man from Baraja to hear?

  Efraim would trust Sebastian and Antoine Cavanaugh with his life and his country. But he couldn’t be so sure about their security men. Could he even trust his own? Could any of them?

  “We’ll talk further in my suite. Report there as soon as we arrive.”

  Kateb lowered his head in a bow.

  CALLIE KNEW she should go home if she wanted to keep her dad, Brent and probably Russ from storming the Wind River Ranch and Resort in a misguided attempt to rescue her.

  Her dad hadn’t really sounded that militant. He’d sounded relieved to get her call telling him she was all right. And as she’d guessed, when she’d told him about the suspected Russian mobsters and the fact that they’d identified Russ’s truck and suggested he, Brent, Russ and Timmy pack a bag and come to the Wind River Ranch where they would be safe, he’d told her in no uncertain terms he was safer right where he was, and she would be, too. Then to top it all off, he’d told her he loved her and wanted her to come home.

  She shook her head and stared into the crackling fire Efraim’s people had waiting for him when they returned. As frustrated as she got with her family sometimes, she knew they loved her. They made that clear even when they couldn’t help being big jerks.

  But the last thing she wanted to do right now was leave Efraim.

  It wasn’t as if she was hoping for some kind of romantic encounter. Not that her dad and brothers would believe that, of course. But she had never remembered being so exhausted in her entire life. The last time they’d returned to the resort, adrenaline had made her blood feel like it was buzzing. There had been no way she could sleep. But that was hours ago. Now the sun was starting to lighten the eastern sky. Now she didn’t have a single ounce of adrenaline left.

  She sat in one of the luxurious leather chairs in Efraim’s suite. It felt good. Snug. And even though the smell of the creek water was still on her skin and hair, she doubted even the promise of a hot shower could motivate her to move.

  She wasn’t sure why Efraim had wanted her to be present for his talk with Kateb, but she was glad he trusted her. She just hoped she could stay alert enough to fulfill whatever role he had in mind.

  Efraim motioned for Kateb to sit in the chair next to Callie.

  Kateb looked down at her, then back at Efraim. “Are you sure you trust her?”

  Callie shifted in her chair. If the man asked that question of Efraim one more time, she thought she might scream.

  “Yes.”

  “You might not after you hear what I have to say.”

  Efraim glanced at Callie.

  She didn’t know how to respond. She shook her head, hoping Efraim would see that she hadn’t a clue what Kateb was talking about. “If you like, I can leave.”

  “No.” Efraim again motioned for Kateb to sit.

  He finally lowered himself to the edge of his chair. He shifted, as if the plush furniture was the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever sat on.

  Efraim peered down at him, his expression deadly serious. If not for the ridiculous baggy jeans and flannel shirt, he would look like the picture of a perfect king. In control. In command. His dark eyes able to lay the truth bare in front of him. “Explain yourself, Kateb. Tell me about your relationship with the woman who calls herself Tanya Driscoll.”

  “My relationship? There is no relationship.”

  “That is not what Tanya says.”

  “What did she say? That I was in love with her?”

  “She said you gave her a gift.”

  Kateb smiled, possibly the most cunning smile Callie had ever seen. “Not a gift. A microphone.”

  Callie sat forward in her chair. “The pendant?”

  Kateb didn’t acknowledge her, but kept his eyes on Efraim. “I had questions about Tanya. Security questions. So I gave her a necklace with a listening device embedded. I recorded her conversations.”

  Efraim nodded, as if he was taking it all in stride, unlike Callie who felt like she was about to fall out of her chair. “Who knew you were doing this?”

  “No one. I wasn’t sure who to trust.”

  Efraim’s dark brows arched upward. “Not Fahad?”

  Kateb looked down, as if reluctant to meet Efraim’s eyes. “Not at first. I told him yesterday morning. Before I drove you and your horse to the badlands. He had me transfer the recordings to his computer.”

  “And he wasn’t happy.”

  “No. He thought I should have cleared it with him first.”

  “Fahad was right.” Efraim’s voice was firm but unemotional. “He was head of security. Coordinating security efforts was his job.”

  Kateb shook his head. He was clearly angry with Fahad and frustrated. He reminded Callie of the way her younger brothers often rebelled under Brent’s iron rule. Younger brothers resenting older brothers.

  “So why didn’t you tell him until then? And why didn’t you tell me at all?”

  Kateb raised his eyes and for the first time, his face held an expression that wasn’t about anger, frustration, contempt or cunning. He actually looked as if he was a little ashamed. “I didn’t know if I would get anything of value. I didn’t want to bother you if all I recorded were diner orders and pillow talk.”

  “Why did you decide Tanya was worth recording in the first place?” Callie asked.

  He refused to look at her just as he had all the other times she’d tried to speak to him. Instead he directed his answer to Efraim. “At the bar the night we arrived, I heard her speaking Russian.”

  “And you thought she might be working with the Russian mob?” Callie asked. That was the leap she and Efraim had made in the diner tonight.

  “Not until the sniper tried to kill Prince Stefan. I didn’t think she was a danger until then. That’s when I gave her the necklace.”

  Efraim paced across the floor. He moved with such pent-up power, Callie couldn’t take her eyes off him. She had no idea where he was drawing this energy from after the past twenty-four hours, but wherever he got his reserves, they were much deeper than hers.

  He stopped at the fireplace and narrowed his eyes on Kateb. “Have you listened to an
y of these recordings?”

  “Some of them. The early ones.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “Nothing that I believed was important at the time.” He turned at looked at Callie for the first time. No, not merely a look. A glare.

  Shivers scampered down her spine. She raised her chin and met his gaze straight on.

  He returned his focus to Efraim. “If I had recognized something, I would have brought the recordings to you immediately.”

  “I wish you had. But we will listen to them now.”

  Kateb shook his head. “When I told Fahad about the recordings, he made me turn them and the receiver over to him.”

  “So Fahad had them?” Callie asked.

  Kateb didn’t bring his gaze back to her, and she had to admit after his last glare, she was relieved. He spoke to Efraim. “The American sheriff and that woman, the police scientist who is with Prince Stefan—when they searched Fahad’s room, they took his computer.”

  Efraim gave a low grunt. He strode across the sitting room and disappeared into the bedroom. When he emerged, he held a flash drive in his hand. “I have Fahad’s computer files.”

  Callie smiled. She had almost forgotten their foray into Fahad’s room while Jake Wolf and Jane Cameron were waiting for their warrant. Maybe her feelings of guilt had just pushed it from her mind.

  Kateb narrowed his eyes on the tiny flash drive. “You copied them?”

  Efraim slid into the desk chair. He flipped open a laptop identical to the one Fahad had and turned it on. The computer booted up quickly and soon he had plugged in the drive and was scanning its contents. “Are you sure Fahad downloaded the recordings to his computer?”

  Kateb pushed up from his chair and stepped behind Efraim, watching the computer screen over his shoulder. “I’m sure. He also took my laptop.”

  “He only had one computer in his room,” Callie said.

  Kateb shook his head. “Mine was there. It had to be.”

  “In the safe?” Callie guessed. They had assumed Fahad had kept his extra firearms in the safe, but it was big enough to hold a laptop.

 

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