Sheik's Rescue

by Ryshia Kennie

  “Not going to happen,” he interrupted.

  “We’re both agreed on that. Whoever is after Stanley may or may not track us here. We can’t take the chance that they do, so there’s an expiration date on this location.”

  It was dark, but neither considered turning on another light. It was as if the soft glow from one small reading lamp was enough, as if anything brighter might prove a distraction. She glanced across the room to the Murphy bed that hadn’t been pulled down. She imagined that they would toss a coin to see who would use it, or maybe she would give it to him. Jade doubted she would sleep much at all that night; it was always like that after an adrenaline rush. It took her hours to come down and this time even longer, thanks to the presence of Zafir.

  She didn’t want to admit how he made her feel, not even to herself. She didn’t believe in falling in love at first sight. But having him in the same room, for her to feign any kind of sleep when he was warm and hot and hard...

  Holy Hannah, this was ridiculous. She’d never felt like this, and she sure as hell shouldn’t feel like this now. Besides, her job was too important. Yet the attraction had been immediate and only fueled by her fascination with him for the last year. Ever since she was hired by Nassar she had followed his cases. She’d been drawn to him and she wasn’t sure why except there was something in the way that he presented himself. It was strange to think that of a man she hadn’t officially met. But it had started from the first moment she’d seen a picture hanging on the office wall of all the brothers. And it was also in the way Faisal had spoken about him. All of it culminated into that one time that she’d participated in an online video meeting that had brought together staff from both the Wyoming and the Moroccan office. She’d watched his mannerisms, listened to his thoughts and said little in that meeting. She’d been overwhelmed with how being in the same time and space as him, even virtually, had made her feel.

  Not that that should be a surprise; hard and fast, it was how she ran her life. Everything turned on a dime, from her assignments to her vacations. She’d been known to organize a trip to South America and been on the plane within the space of forty-eight hours. It was not only how one got the best flight deals—last-minute hands down, every time—it was also more exciting. It was why she did what she did and ran her private life as she had. It was also how one made huge mistakes—her last relationship, for one.

  She took a deep breath. That was the biggest lie she had ever told herself. Every one of her past relationships had been a mistake. They’d been based on what her body had told her rather than her head, and they’d all turned out badly. Only trips and assignments such as these seemed to work by turning on a dime. Based on past experience, she needed to ignore how she felt about Zafir. Her position at Nassar could hang in the balance. Getting it on with the man who was, in any other situation, her boss was a bad idea. Getting it on with a man who had a reputation for loving and leaving was not smart. But the voice of reason didn’t seem to have any power over the feelings that had sprung to life from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him.

  She watched as he moved to the window. He stood there silently looking at the street. His thoughts were as silent as his presence.

  In the bedroom, Stanley’s snores were rhythmic and so consistent that they were almost background noise. She imagined he was sleeping through the trauma, dream-free. He’d had enough trauma for a lifetime. The poor man had had a rough introduction to the United States of America.

  Minutes ticked by. She made a pot of coffee and offered Zafir a cup.

  She sat down on the opposite end of the couch from him.

  “We can keep him safe here, in the States. Yet the danger looks more pervasive than that. We’ll know more, hopefully soon,” he said, and took a sip of coffee. “I’ve never liked the waiting game.”

  “What about Morocco? Can he be kept safe there?” she asked. It had to be considered. “Eventually, he has to go home.”

  Jade’s phone beeped. She pulled it out and answered. “That was Colette,” she said a few minutes later. Colette headed all administrative functions including supervising three other office staff. She was the heart of their office, and nothing happened there without her say so. “There was one Moroccan who cleared customs at JFK the day before Stanley and from there went on to Casper via Salt Lake City and from there on to Jackson.” She frowned. “He didn’t ring any alarms going through security. The only heads-up anyone had was my query. By then he was already long gone.” She paused. “His name is Mohammed Jadid.”

  “So who is Mohammed Jadid?” Zafir asked.

  “As in his relationship to Stanley, or if there is one?” she asked. “They’ve found nothing yet. But there’s someone on it,” she said. “In the meantime, Mohammed flew out of Rabat’s international airport.” Her gaze locked on his, and she knew that they were still on the same page. “How many Moroccans flew out of Rabat to Jackson, Wyoming, in the last few days? Two,” she said, answering her own question.

  “It’s still a shaky theory,” Zafir said.

  “True. But it gets more interesting. After Jackson there’s no paper trail on this guy. No vehicles rented, no hotel rooms, nothing.”

  Zafir looked thoughtful. “It is suspicious. The key question would be what’s his relationship to Stan, if there is one?”

  “That’s what we don’t know. Maybe there’s nothing, but it’s not like Moroccan tourists have been beating a path to Jackson in what is normally off season for skiers. Unless, like Stanley, they’re into photographing wildlife. This snow was unexpected and won’t stay on the ground long.”

  “So he leaves no trail. But arrives in Jackson and drops immediately out of sight.”

  “Does he know Stanley or...”

  “Is he a hit man hired to take Stan out?”

  She bit her lip.

  “Worst-case scenario,” Zafir said darkly.

  “And Stanley doesn’t stand a chance,” Jade finished.

  “The odds that he’s not our sniper aren’t great.”

  “The office is on it. I don’t know how soon we’ll get anything.”

  She went to the window as if there were answers there.

  “I’ve been in contact with Emir. He’s going to see about getting the contract extended past the original ten days.” He looked tired. “If it comes to that...”

  They both knew that they’d do what they had to do to successfully close this case and return the client safely to Morocco. Whether they had to escort him or not, they’d get him there. But for now that wasn’t an issue. For now, the issue was keeping him alive, and to do that they needed to pin down the threat against him.

  “There’s something we can’t put our finger on. I know you sense it, too. Like Stanley’s...”

  “Keeping secrets. Knows more than he’s telling,” he said. “That’s a given. We both know that. I think we need to have a long talk with the man.”

  Another snore rocked the room, and despite the new twist in the case or maybe because of that, they smiled at each other. Stanley was like no other client. It was becoming a very quirky case.

  “He’s a challenge,” she said, but her smile slipped as she met Zafir’s eyes, which seemed to smoke with passion. It was a strange state of affairs. She hadn’t been with him long enough to know him. Yet she knew him like she didn’t know many people in her life. And that frightened her for it could change everything because she’d never wanted a man more.

  Chapter Eleven

  “He’s not giving us anything,” Jade whispered, and they both knew that she referred to Stanley. “At least not voluntarily.”

  It was still dark as they headed into the early hours of the second day that they’d been on this case. It looked like they’d be staying in Casper rather than moving on. The Wyoming office was stretched thin, as a family emergency had one of thei
r office staff on leave and the others even more overwhelmed with priority demands. As there was no sign that their accommodations had been jeopardized, they prioritized the needs of yet another case over immediately finding a safe house for them. They were uncomfortably crowded but safe. It could be another day before they would move again. In the meantime, they would wait it out.

  The streetlamp glinted, sending tendrils of light across the short expanse of counter and providing a muted glow in the kitchen. The rest of the small area remained dark. She flicked on the table light beside the sofa and sat down just to rest for a minute.

  She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she heard was her text alert. She looked at her phone. She’d been sleeping for two hours. The message was from Colette in the Jackson office warning her that she’d be phoning in the next minute.

  Zafir stood by the sink looking out the window, as if he could see into the night.

  He turned around.

  “You’re awake,” he said.

  “Stanley?” she asked.

  “Sleeping.”

  Her phone rang and she answered. A few minutes later she disconnected.

  “We’ve got our answer about our second Moroccan,” she said to Zafir.

  “Who is he?”

  “Mohammed Jadid is Stanley’s first cousin. They’re relatively close in age.”

  “Let me guess, he stands to inherit should something happen to Stanley,” Zafir said.

  “Actually, that’s the strange thing. No. He’s a cousin on the maternal side, while Stanley’s uncle is his father’s brother. All inheritance goes through the paternal side. This cousin is out of the loop as he’s related on the wrong side to have a chance at the inheritance.”

  “Yet he arrived in Wyoming, we assume, following Stan. Interesting. I don’t know what to think.”

  “I think we need to ask Stanley,” she said as she got up and moved to the small kitchen area that openly adjoined the other living area.

  “You’re right, but timing is everything. We both know that it won’t take much to have him heading home. He’s on edge and depending on what the deal is with this cousin...”

  “Agreed. I’ll try to gently lead him.” She threaded her fingers through her hair and then dropped her hands to the counter. “There’s something else. I’d forgotten. You know when we were in Jackson? It was right after we arrived. I was just playing at getting to know him. You know, asking superficial questions.”

  “Before the code changed?”

  “Exactly. I don’t know if it’s important or not but...” She shook her head. “No, that’s wrong. It could be very important...”

  It had been forgotten in the rumble of all that had happened. Yesterday had gone by in a blur as they’d secured the unit and made Stanley comfortable.

  “What?” Zafir cut her off as he came over and sat down on a small straight-backed in the living area only a few feet from the kitchen counter where she stood.

  “Stanley told me that he got his nickname from his brother.”

  “Brother? That wasn’t in the file. I assumed he was an only child.”

  “The file didn’t speak to the issue one way or the other.”

  “Prince Rashad would have known,” he said. “He obviously didn’t think it was important.”

  “Maybe it isn’t.” She shrugged. “But we have to cover all angles.”

  “The case began low-key. The file wasn’t detailed as a result,” he said thoughtfully. He looked at her, waiting for her to fill him in.

  “According to Stanley, his brother has been dead for years. He was older than Stanley. His brother gave him the nickname based on a cartoon character. Apparently his brother told him he looked like the character called Stanley and he’s been called that ever since.”

  “And as a grown man continues to go by that name,” Zafir said. “Interesting. So is the information on the brother. What was the cause of death?”

  “I don’t know. Stanley only said it was an accident,” she said, knowing that cause of death could reveal more things sometimes than a living being ever could. “He died twenty-five years ago, according to Stanley. So, since Stanley’s thirty-nine now, he was only a child when his brother died.” She shrugged. “There was no time to ask more questions. We were shot at not long after the subject came up.”

  “Considering how this case has changed, we need to find out how his brother died—his parents, too. Although their deaths were a few years later. At least that part was in the file.” He glanced over at the bedroom. “Let’s not mention any of this to Stan. For now, we’ll get the official record. Later, we’ll get the unofficial report from Stan. Like I said before, I think if we push him now we chance frightening him, having him insisting on going back to Morocco. I’d like to have a clearer understanding of the threat before that happens.”

  “I’ll contact the office,” Jade said. “I have his parents’ given names and approximate ages. I was hoping to confirm the information the file has.”

  “Good plan,” he agreed. “Let’s make sure that what is there is accurate.”

  Silence drifted between them and she pulled out her phone and began an internet search. She was looking for information on Stanley’s brother. But other than a dry layout of lineage to the Moroccan throne, there was no mention of a sibling.

  “I just did an online search while I was sitting here. Nothing.” She frowned as she looked up at him, her fingers poised as if contemplating entering another search. “Interesting. So, we don’t have much on his brother, not even a given name.”

  She frowned. They’d hoped that while they lay low, Stanley would feel safe and tell them what he knew. Interrogation, they feared, would cause him to withdraw. But giving him rope hadn’t given them any more information, either.

  Early-morning light drifted into the room. It reminded them that they were quickly losing the luxury of time.

  “I’ll make coffee,” Zafir said.

  “Great,” she said, and returned his smile with a look of appreciation as she picked up her phone, texting her request to Colette in the main office.

  “Colette,” she said to Zafir five minutes later, “wanted you to know that the new admin is working out splendidly. I believe those were her exact words. We were afraid that training would complicate the shortage of support staff but it looks like she’s going to help not hinder.”

  “She moved faster than I expected on hiring help. In fact, I didn’t know the new hire was already in the office being trained.” He shrugged. “Bonus, she’s a quick learner and should take the edge off our shortage of staff.”

  “That’s not all Colette’s done since we last spoke. She’s followed up on our case, as well. She checked with Moroccan authorities. They couldn’t find confirmation of Stanley’s brother’s death, either. They found his birth records and we have a name, Chasi el Eloua, and a year of birth but nothing else. He’s eight years older than Stanley. It’s interesting that the mother’s death record is registered twenty-two years ago and his father’s twenty years ago. They both died of natural causes. That is if you call dying before you hit sixty natural.” She sighed. “I know it’s off topic, but that frightens me.”

  “What?”

  “Dying in a hospital of sickness—heart disease, cancer or... I’d rather die in the field with my boots on.” She shook her head as if dispersing the morose thoughts.

  “Wouldn’t we all?” he said with an easy smile, and switched the topic back to the case. “So, his brother was dead before his parents died. That leaves Stan the sole survivor and beneficiary of his parents’ life insurance.”

  “Exactly. That’s what he’s been living on. But, there’s more.”

  He waited expectantly.

  “So far everything is adding up just as it should. Except...” She paused. “W
e’re really stumbling on confirming Chasi el Eloua’s death.” She took a cup of black coffee from Zafir. “Thanks.” She wasn’t sure when he’d learned how she drank her coffee. Personal preferences seemed to blur into the background of the case.

  “Depending what year he died, the record might not be online.”

  “Colette checked that. The year Stanley claims Chasi died, records were entered into a manual system that was transferred later to computer. Usually that’s just straight data entry. It could have been as simple a mistake as the data entry clerk turned two pages instead of one. That was our initial thought. But we’ve just discovered that wasn’t the case. There is no paper record, either.” She ran a hand through her hair. “But I know what you mean. He died in an institution, mistakes, papers not being filed—rare, but it happens.”

  “Exactly,” he agreed. “Twenty-five years ago when Chasi supposedly died, the internet was in its infancy. It may take a bit more digging.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll get Tara on it. Colette has enough to do with training and dealing with what we’ve got going on already.”

  “I might have a suspicious mind, but in the meantime let’s just keep this search as well between the two of us.” She looked up and gave a rather forced smile at the sight of Stanley standing tentatively in the bedroom doorway. Her mind went back over what she had said, and she hoped that he hadn’t heard their whispered conversation.

  “I can’t sleep. I’ll try to nap later,” he said as if his sleep patterns were on everyone’s mind.

  He hadn’t dressed and seemed unfocused in his saggy white boxers and a ratty T-shirt. The minimal dress showed off a bit of a belly and hairy legs.

  “Get dressed, man,” Zafir growled. “There’s a lady present.”

  “I’m sorry.” He looked slightly befuddled. “I’m not used to having company. I usually—I live alone...” He stammered as if that explained everything. His voice trailed off as his face reddened and he turned away, heading back into the bedroom.

  “I think the stress of it all, being cooped up with us for so long, is getting to him.” She stood up and carried the coffee cups to the sink. When she turned around, Zafir was on his phone.