by Trish Morey; Day Leclaire; Natalie Anderson; Brenda Jackson; Ann Voss Peterson
“The warrant will outline exactly what the sheriff is looking for,” Callie explained. “He is not going to compromise security or any state business.”
Kaleb kept his focus on Efraim. “And you trust her? An American?” Kateb asked.
His words hit Callie like a slap. She pretended not to notice.
“I said I will handle things, Kateb.”
Kateb narrowed his eyes but didn’t move.
“I said go.”
Giving another scowl, Fahad’s brother stalked away. He pulled out his key card, let himself into his room and slammed the door behind him.
Callie frowned. There was no telling how grief affected a person. Every individual reacted differently to losing a loved one. Her dad had cried openly when her mom died. He’d then become a hermit for years, focusing on the ranch and his children and ignoring the rest of the world. He’d finally moved out of that state in the past year or so, once he’d started dating Helen. Brent had bottled up his grief and run away to the military.
Callie wondered if he’d even cried about their mom yet. She and Joe had reacted more like her father, but instead of shutting themselves away, they’d both thrown themselves into school and career, she becoming a diplomat, he a schoolteacher. Russ and Timmy had been very young and had mostly just taken their cues from everyone else.
Apparently Kateb dealt with grief by becoming angry and distrustful. Or maybe he was always like that. Because she didn’t know him, it was hard to tell. But she wouldn’t take it personally.
It was Efraim’s reaction she was far more interested in. She looked up at him. His dark eyes were focused on Kateb, as if scrolling through his own assessment of his man’s behavior. “Efraim?”
His dark gaze flicked to her.
“You know you can trust me, don’t you?” She hated sounding so needy, but she couldn’t hide it. Fahad’s curse had bothered her…. Still bothered her. The thought that he hated her so much, that his brother might hate her, too, made her feel sick. And if Efraim…
She needed Efraim’s trust if she was to do her job and facilitate a COIN compact. But as much as she told herself that that was the reason behind her need, she knew that was only a small part.
The truth was, her father had been right. Efraim was important to her and not only because of his tentative commitment to COIN.
Whenever he looked at her, she felt alive. Hyper-aware. Drop-dead sexy. Whenever he was near, she thought of their kiss and longed to feel his lips again. She wanted him to trust her, not only for America’s and Nadar’s sake, but for her own.
“Come with me.” Efraim took her hand this time, his long fingers closing around hers. He led her down another hall, away from Kateb’s hard eyes.
At the end of the passage, Jake Wolf and Jane Cameron gathered in a seating area. A woman with curly blond hair stood with them. The head of housekeeping, Callie remembered. Beth Taylor. Obviously Jake had her lined up to let them into Fahad’s room once the warrant came through.
Efraim swiped his key card and pulled her into his suite. The sitting room was as beautiful as the rest of the lodge. Wood shelves stretched to the ceiling, loaded with books. Rich leather chairs gathered around a fireplace just waiting for a crackling fire. And through the open door, an opulent king-size bed filled the corner of a luxurious bedroom.
Efraim peered down at her, his dark eyes intense, and for a moment, Callie thought he might kiss her again. She hoped. Her knees felt squishy.
“You said you’ll help me find Fahad’s murderer. Were you serious?”
“Of course I was. What are you going to do?”
He glanced at a closed door, a door leading to the adjoining room. “Something the sheriff isn’t going to like.”
A tremor gripped Callie’s chest. It made perfect sense Fahad would have the room next to Efraim’s. He was charged with protecting the sheik. But even though she knew exactly what Efraim’s glance meant, she asked the question anyway. “Does that lead to Fahad’s room?”
“I’d like to get a look at his things before the sheriff shuts us out of this investigation.”
“Jake won’t shut—”
“You know that’s not true.”
She did. Jake would shut Efraim out. He might consider Efraim a suspect, for all she knew. Of course, if he found out she and Efraim had searched Fahad’s room, he’d have good reason for suspecting them.
Efraim took her hand and peered into her eyes. “I know what I’m asking of you, and I’m sorry. But I am in debt to Fahad. I have to do everything I can to find his killer.”
“I know.” She pushed the words through a tight throat.
“Are you with me on this?”
The tremor grew and spread through her body, down her limbs, until she felt like a shaking mess. She shouldn’t go along with this. It wasn’t right. It might not even be legal. But with Efraim’s eyes on her, she wanted more than anything for him to trust her. To accept her.
There was only one answer she could give. “Yes.”
Chapter Eight
Efraim knew his request wasn’t fair to Callie. On some level, he also recognized he was testing her. But it wasn’t until she said that simple word that he realized how much he needed to hear it from her lips.
He looked down at her, feeling her hand in his, stroking her fingers with his own. Now that she’d committed, they needed to hurry. They needed to get into Fahad’s room and get out before the sheriff had a clue what was going on or could stop it. But even knowing time was of the essence, Efraim couldn’t move from Callie. He couldn’t release her hand. He had to taste her again.
He leaned down and brought his lips to hers.
Her mouth tasted like lemon drops, and she kissed him back, warm and sweet. Blood rushed through his body, making him feel strong, alive, invincible.
It was stupid to kiss her, he knew. Stupid to let himself feel this way. And it muddied everything. But he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to forget everything, pick her up and take her to his bed. Worry only about pleasing her and losing himself in her body.
He forced himself to end the kiss, but he couldn’t release her hand, he couldn’t turn away. He hadn’t felt this strongly about a woman in a long time…no, he’d never felt this. And although Callie’s answer might mean he could trust her, he still wasn’t sure he could trust his feelings.
“We need to hurry,” he managed to say, his voice gruff with the longing pulsing through his blood.
She nodded, but she didn’t move, as if he had seized her heart as powerfully as she had his.
Pulling in a sharp breath, he tore his gaze from hers and stepped to the door before he did something stupid like kiss her again. Or make love to her.
Or just flat-out give her his heart.
Since Fahad acted as Efraim’s personal bodyguard as well as the head of all security arrangements for Efraim and the rest of the royals, both he and Efraim had kept the doors adjoining each other’s rooms unlocked, in case a hurried entry was necessary. The doors for his side and Fahad’s side opened easily under his hand, and he and Callie slipped into the next room.
Whereas Efraim had a suite, Fahad had only a single spacious room. A king-size bed dominated the space. The rest of the usual furniture—bureau, desk, leather chair—rimmed the edges. It was a nice space, although Fahad typically spent so little time in his room, Efraim doubted he noticed.
“What are we looking for?” Callie asked. She opened the closet door.
“I don’t know. Anything…unusual.”
Efraim started with the bureau drawers. Fahad was very organized. One drawer held clothing that didn’t belong hung in the closet. The next a collection of holsters designed to conceal a handgun under various types of clothing. He didn’t see anything out of place, anything that raised red flags. He glanced up at Callie. “Find anything?”
“Just traditional robes, business suits, a Kevlar vest and a rifle case. I assume the latter is for the weapon he had with him.” She knelt down
. “And there’s the room safe.”
He slid the drawer holding the holsters shut. “He probably has a few handguns in there. Some ammunition.”
“Any idea of the combo?”
He scoured his brain. The combination was probably something he should know, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He’d left so much to Fahad, not just his personal security but the complex problems of coordinating details with the other COIN leaders, the intricacies of travel arrangements and a host of other problems. Fahad had dealt with it all, freeing Efraim to focus on governing Nadar and foreign relations.
But that was all over now. And Efraim had no idea who he could trust. Kateb was next in line for the position. But Fahad’s younger brother nursed an underlying anger and fundamentalist views that reminded Efraim too much of his own younger brother for comfort. He had only to think of the way Kateb had treated Callie to feel uncomfortable about the man all over again. He would never turn over decision-making power to Kateb.
Again a current of loss flowed through him.
“Any ideas?”
He glanced up at Callie’s voice and brought his focus back to the safe’s combination. “I’m sorry, no.”
She sat on one hip, slinging her blue-jeaned legs to one side. “I’ll see what I can figure out.”
He let Callie handle the safe and moved to the laptop sitting on the desk. Now here was something he knew a bit about.
He fired it up and grabbed a flash drive from the laptop case sitting on the floor. After plugging in the flash drive, he started copying Fahad’s files. Maybe among the schedules and security strategies would be a detail that would shed new light on things.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the sound of a voice came from the hall outside the door.
The sheriff was on his way.
Callie focused wide eyes on him. “We’d better get out of here.” Abandoning the still-locked safe, she scrambled to her feet and closed the closet door.
Efraim stared at the screen, willing the computer to copy files faster.
The voices grew louder.
“Efraim. Hurry. They’re coming.”
He pulled out the flash drive and stuck it in his pocket. He turned off the computer. He wasn’t sure if it would look more suspicious to leave it open or turn it off without letting it shut the programs down properly. In the end, it probably didn’t matter. Any decent computer specialist would be able to see the device was turned on after Fahad’s death.
And it wouldn’t take much on the sheriff’s part to figure out the culprit was him.
He stood, about to leave the screen open, when the top of the hotel desk caught his attention. A smattering of American coins scattered the desk along with a cell phone the size of a credit card and a wad of receipts and a matchbook. He pocketed the phone and receipts and looked at the matchbook. Fahad hadn’t left the resort since the night of the car bomb. At least not that Efraim knew. Yet the matchbook on the desk was emblazoned with the logo and address of a local tavern in Dumont.
One he had not visited when out with Efraim.
“Hurry.” Callie stood in the connecting doorway, both portals wide open.
Before he stuffed the matchbook in his pocket along with the rest, something else caught his eye. Inside the matchbook’s flap, he spied the name Tanya and a number, written in a woman’s hand.
Maybe they’d found something interesting after all.
“WHAT DID YOU find?” Safe in Efraim’s room with the connecting door locked, Callie focused on the papers in his hand and tried to calm the tremble that claimed every nerve in her body. She didn’t like any of this, yet she’d promised Efraim she’d go along. She couldn’t back out, even now that he’d stolen possible evidence right out from under Jake Wolf’s nose.
If she were honest with herself, she needed to know the truth, almost as much as Efraim. Only partially for Fahad’s sake—she could still hear his bitter words ringing in her head, words she didn’t have the heart to repeat for Efraim. But Efraim’s insistence in the boardroom that the man who attacked him was a local made her uneasy. She had to know if it was true.
Efraim pulled a collection of paper out of his pocket and spilled it all onto the desk in the sitting room of his suite. He worriedly sorted through the mess. The sound of voices hummed from the room next door. “Most of these receipts are from the first night we were here. The night we all had dinner in Dumont.”
Also the night of the car bomb and Amir’s disappearance, but she let that go unsaid. “And the rest?”
“It looks like Fahad found his way into Dumont the last few nights.” His voice dipped, tension ringing in each word.
“He didn’t tell you he was going?”
“I didn’t have a clue. And things weren’t settled enough around here or safe enough for my head of security—the man in charge of coordinating security for all of us—to be running into town for no reason.”
“How many times did he go to Dumont?”
“Twice since the explosion.”
“And you think it might have something to do with his death?”
“It was an American who attacked me. A local. It made me think. What if I wasn’t the primary target? What if Fahad was?”
“You think that’s possible?” Callie asked.
“I think we have to consider every angle.”
She tried to do just that. A cold chill ran down her spine. “You think he might have run into some of the protestors? Made one of them angry enough to kill him?”
“It’s possible.”
“There has to be more behind Fahad’s murder than a chance run-in with a frightened local.” At least she hoped so. But she had no clue what circumstances would make any of this easier. “Do you know why he went to Dumont in the first place?”
“I don’t know, but I have a guess.” He held a matchbook scissored between index and middle finger.
Callie recognized the logo of the Tumbledown Tavern. “He went to a bar? There’s a bar here at the lodge.”
“He didn’t necessarily go to get a drink.” He flipped open the flap and handed the matches to her.
When she saw the name and number, Efraim’s line of thought became clear. “A woman. He went to meet a woman.”
“And maybe a local man wasn’t happy about it.”
Deciding that neither of them could sleep despite the late hour and that Efraim preferred to not sit around in his suite waiting for the sheriff’s questions, the two of them made their way back out to the pickup and were soon back on the road to town. At least during the tourist season, the bar should still be hopping until closing time.
The town of Dumont boasted a population of less than seven thousand, not including the surrounding ranches, like the Seven M. But this time of year, tourists flooded into town like water gushing out of the mountains during spring thaw. Located at the foot of the Wind River Mountains, travelers came for hiking, camping, fishing, climbing and mountaineering. Some traveled on to Grand Teton National Park and Yellowstone. But some ended up at guest ranches, luxury accommodations like the Wind River Ranch and Resort and more modest operations like the half-dozen others in the area.
And when nighttime fell, vacationers and locals alike enjoyed the summer nightlife in Dumont.
The parking lot of the Tumbledown Tavern was packed with everything from motorcycles to cars to pickups dirtier than Russ’s. They wound through the lot, finally finding a vacant space in the gravel lot in the back. They circled the building on foot. The smell of fried food, thunk of drums and whine of a guitar floated on cool night air. A sign out front heralded a country-and-rock band called The Unforgiven that had traveled from Cody to put on tonight’s show.
A burly local wearing a cowboy hat and boots stood outside the door. He crossed his arms and scrutinized the driver’s licenses of a group of girls wearing ribbons braided into their hair.
Efraim’s steps slowed. He stopped before they reached the lighted area around the entrance. “Se
e his shirt?”
She focused on the cotton T-shirt stretched across his chest. It looked homemade, a white shirt with iron-on letters. But slick or not, the message was clear.
ROYALS GO HOME
An ache settled in Callie’s stomach. She looked past the bouncer and into the bar. Three more men just inside the door sported similar shirts, some more derogatory than the message worn by the bouncer.
“This is just…surreal.” A weight settled into Callie’s stomach, making her queasiness grow. “Some of these people…I don’t understand it. They’re the nicest people you’d ever want to meet. Generous, you know? They’d do anything to help a neighbor.”
“But not to help a foreigner.”
She shook her head. Before seeing this scene, before witnessing her own father’s and brothers’ behavior, she would have disagreed with Efraim’s statement. These were good people. They’d always been generous in the past. And tolerant, even of those different from themselves. But now?
What was happening to her country? Her town? Her family? Was everyone so driven by hate that they couldn’t see what they were becoming? “They’re better than this.”
Efraim nodded. “I’ve seen it in my countrymen, too. Neighbor turning against neighbor.”
It’s what they’d talked about in the boardroom, what she’d heard in Fahad’s voice and seen in Kateb’s eyes, and once again, she had to agree. It was rude, cruel and maybe much worse. Fear made people do desperate things, she knew. It made them cross lines they never otherwise would even consider crossing. “You’d better let me nose around this crowd on my own.”
For a second, he looked as if he was about to argue, then he squinted into the bar. “You’re right. I have a phone call to make anyway.”
She opened her mouth, then clamped down on the inside of her bottom lip. It wasn’t any of her business who he was planning to call. “Okay. Here.” She held out the set of truck keys dangling from a fob sporting the Wyoming-cowboy-on-a-bucking-bronc logo.
He took the key chain, turned and strode back across the parking lot. She hesitated, then ran to catch up.