Sheik's Rule

by Ryshia Kennie

  Emir fired and the man’s gun clattered to the pavement, but no body followed. Instead the passenger managed to fling himself into the driver’s seat even as Kate fired again and again. The Land Rover peeled away, veering right then left as the smell of burned rubber and gunpowder knifed through the air before the Rover careened to a stop about four hundred feet away from them. The vehicle listed slightly to the left with one tire flat and its right side jammed against an embankment of dirt and discarded cement.

  “Stay here,” Emir said to Kate.

  He nodded to Dell. “Cover me.”

  But as he came up to the vehicle, there was no movement. The Rover had pitched on its side. The smell of gas permeated the air. Emir moved to the right, away from the driver. Everything was still. He inched along the driver’s side where the man was slumped. Dead, unconscious or feigning—it wasn’t clear. The only thing that was clear was that he wasn’t moving and that, for now, he didn’t pose a threat. Still, one couldn’t be sure. Emir held his gun in one hand and pulled the driver’s door open as he jumped back, both hands on his gun.

  Nothing.

  He moved forward, jammed the gun in the man’s ribs and took a closer look.

  “Dead,” he muttered.

  “Bad luck,” Kate said as she came up behind him. “Or not.” She held her handgun in one hand, her other free. “He probably wouldn’t have given you anything, anyway, whether he knew where she was or not. You know that. It was all a long shot,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Emir looked at her. He wasn’t surprised that she was there. Somehow, despite his command to stay, he had known she would back him up. In an odd way, it both infuriated and pleased him. The thought ran through his head even as he assessed the truth of what she’d said. It was clear that, somehow, in some way, these men were connected with his sister’s disappearance. Otherwise, none of it made sense. Now it was possible they might never know how they were involved or, more importantly, what they might know.

  She moved past him, poking her head into the vehicle, looking at the corpse, her movements quick and decisive as she went through his pockets.

  He went up beside her. “Any ID?”

  She shook her head.

  “We don’t have a lot of time and we don’t want to get caught up in the bureaucracy of airport security.” He looked back to where their vehicle sat and then above, where the roar of an approaching plane reminded them of the nearness of the airport.

  Over two hundred feet away the man who had been on the passenger side lay sprawled on the pavement. With no thought to Kate, assuming only that she’d follow, he sprinted back the way they had come, his long legs easily covering the distance between the two vehicles. He heard Kate behind him, her breath coming in short puffs, and whether she could keep up or not—for now, it was not a consideration.

  He stopped by the body, bending to get a closer look, but it lay facedown. He turned it over—male, he already knew that, and there was nothing unique about his clothing. The passenger had been thirty or so, and was dressed to blend in, in brown cotton trousers and boots. Like the man they had just killed, his T-shirt was brown, as well, and it, too, had no identifying markings. There was nothing but a slim gold ring on his right hand that might be used to identify him.

  Emir eased the corpse down after a quick check of his pockets and gave him a final once-over, this time only with his eyes, looking for clues they might have missed. He stood. He hadn’t expected answers but he had hoped that there would have been something—one clue that might bring him closer to finding Tara.

  “Who are they? It makes no sense that they would attack us.”

  “You’re assuming this is connected?”

  “Aren’t you?” She looked at him as he grimly nodded agreement.

  Kate bent and pulled something from the man’s shirt. She held it up. “Camel hair. This guy’s been outside the city, and recently.”

  He took the small wad of coarse hair from her. It was more than likely camel—the texture, length and color was right—but what did that mean in a country where camels were common? “There are camels in Marrakech. Camels everywhere—this is Morocco,” he said as if it was a fact that needed pointing out.

  He wasn’t making fun of her or, for that matter, even contradicting her. The blood seemed to roar in his ears. He wasn’t thinking straight, hadn’t been since Tara disappeared. He had to get it together and, in an odd way, despite their initial meeting, he was counting on Kate. His eyes met hers and he could see something troubling in their depths. He knew she was considering what he had said and more.

  “True,” Kate said. “But he’s not the type to own one.” She lifted a hand and turned it palm-up. She ran a thumb along the tips of his fingers. “Too soft. There’s no evidence he worked with his hands, other than with firearms.” She laid the arm across the decedent’s chest and straightened as she pointed to his boots. “Knock-off Ralph Lauren boots.” She grimaced. “Not something a camel owner would have, but maybe someone who had been near one recently. Sand on his boots.” She turned the sole of the boot sideways. “Not much, but I think he came from somewhere out there. Look, the leather is scraped, like he was walking on rough terrain, not city sidewalks.” Her arm swept in the direction of the mighty Sahara Desert. “What brought him here?”

  She glanced in the direction of the airport. “We need to get out of here before the police show up.”

  “You’re right.” He gave the scene a final once-over. These men weren’t professionals and he’d bet neither were those who held Tara. The burning question was whether the two of them were connected and, if so, why had they targeted him? It seemed improbable. Why kill him and jeopardize a ransom? He glanced at Dell, who had been quietly listening to what they had to say.

  In the distance the sirens from approaching emergency vehicles began to wail. They all headed back to the Hummer.

  “Trouble. Let’s get moving,” Dell said as he motioned for them to get in.

  Emir opened the rear passenger door and Kate slipped inside.

  “None of this makes sense,” Emir said as he sat beside Kate.

  “Or it makes complete sense,” she said softly.

  They were silent for the next few minutes as the Hummer sped away, leaving the mayhem behind for the authorities.

  Emir’s attention was now on Marrakech’s sprawling yet oddly elegant skyline as the vehicle turned from the rural landscape and headed back to the heart of the city.

  * * *

  THE SILENCE WAS thick over the next few minutes as the miles dropped behind them and distance separated them from the recent mayhem. While Kate appreciated the opportunity to mull over her theory without questions, she suspected that Emir, too, had theories with no solid answers and, like her, was mulling them over, trying to piece it all together, to make sense of it.

  She looked at him, at the seemingly unfeeling line of his lips and yet she knew, from the little he’d said, that he had to be worried sick. He cared for his sister, and he’d do anything to get her back. That he’d give his life—that he’d said and she was here to make sure that didn’t happen.

  Everything was still, quiet between them.

  She noticed little things. His hands were thick, sun-bronzed, yet he had long fingers. His hands were like those of an artist mixed with those of a laborer. But none of what was in his hands matched the aristocratic planes of his face or... Her heart pounded just a beat faster—and her mind wrestled with distance, with control. This was not about lust or even like but about life and death. She was here to do a job.

  “We need to do this silently and quietly. That means as few people involved or in the know as possible.” She glanced at Dell. In the heat of battle Dell been a good addition. But finding Tara was a different matter. They had to be subtle and more people created noise, figuratively speaking, and could alert th
e kidnappers. Besides, she knew nothing of Dell. She didn’t know if she could trust him, even though Emir did, or if she wanted to.

  “Dell’s ex-military,” Emir said as he watched her attention turn to Dell. “We served together. He’s going to help while he can. Don’t question that or anything else I decide,” he said, practically ordering her not to question him.

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t like it, but she’d see how it played out for now.

  “I’ll show you what we think is ground zero,” he said as if that were the reward not for her success in the field but for her silence.

  She looked at the tense way Emir gripped his handgun and the tight line of his jaw and saw pain, a strong man who was fighting not to break. He needed help and not just someone who wielded a gun, not just muscle—he needed someone who could think clearly, unaffected by the emotion he refused to admit. Emir, whether he knew it or not, needed her.

  “Where they took Tara,” he said.

  And it was with those words that she found herself locked into the reality of going back in time with the dark and silently brooding Sheik Emir Al-Nassar.

  Emir, she corrected, for she couldn’t think of him as “Sheik.” Sheik didn’t fit the persona of the young and brash man beside her. He was a man she imagined could easily steal a woman’s heart even after annoying her as deeply and maddeningly as he had her. He was also a man in the midst of a tragedy that, she’d instinctively thought from the moment she’d seen his name, would eventually lead her to the hinterlands of the Sahara Desert.

  But it was the man, not the desert, that caused her to pause. There was something about Emir, a passion and an intensity that was different from any man she had ever known. And that scared her more than anything else.

  Chapter Four

  Monday, September 14, 5:00 p.m.

  “I need a vehicle registration search,” Emir said as he spoke to his contact. It was standard procedure, a first link to who or what these men had been—dead bodies didn’t talk.

  “Stolen vehicle,” he said to Kate after he ended the call.

  “Not what either of us hoped for.”

  He shrugged. “Did you expect anything else?”

  She paused as if pondering the information. “It fits. Definitely not best case, but not a surprise, either. The vehicle makes sense but the attack itself seems like a piece that just doesn’t fit. If the men who attacked us at the airport were originally with the kidnappers, why would they leave the group, come back and try to kill us?” She rubbed her thumb along the inside of her wrist, as if doing so would somehow provide answers. “They won’t get money from a body. It makes no sense.”

  Emir looked at her. “I have three brothers.”

  She frowned. “They can still negotiate with one of your brothers.” Her eyes met his. “Were they trying to kill you to ensure the others paid?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  As the Hummer slowed, Emir pulled out his phone and punched a series of numbers. The massive bronze gates leading to his home slipped smoothly open and Dell maneuvered the vehicle inside.

  Emir slid the passenger window down.

  “Heard anything?” A middle-aged man with a Beretta strapped to his waist and an AK-47 over his shoulder asked as he stepped out of the one-room stucco cabin that functioned as a guardhouse. Lines of worry etched his forehead and his lips were compressed in an angry line.

  “I’m sorry, no,” Emir said, his eyes on the guard as if some silent communication were passing between the two.

  He could feel Kate’s eyes on him and knew that it might seem odd to apologize about his sister’s disappearance to his staff. It certainly wasn’t the norm, but then, nothing about this estate had been the norm since they’d lost both a matriarch and a patriarch on the same day. After that, the rules of running a large estate had changed.

  Many of his employees were also friends, especially of Tara. Tara was a favorite among the estate’s staff and he knew they were worried sick about her. She had the ability to touch the heart of everyone she met. Little things mattered to her, like knowing the birthdays of each employee. She could ask each of them about their families, the smallest details of their lives and call their children by name. Considering the number of staff in their employ, Emir had never been sure how she did it.

  The guard’s hand moved to the Beretta at his side, touching it almost reverently in an unspoken acknowledgment of solidarity.

  “Rashad, this is K. J. Gelinsky. She’ll be working with me to get Tara back.”

  Rashad gave a solemn salute and a nod.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Kate said.

  “Been with the family twenty years,” Emir said as the vehicle moved on.

  “He has an alibi?”

  Emir tensed. “Rashad is devastated by what happened to Tara.”

  “But he was questioned?” she persisted.

  “He was at home with his family when it happened. There’re a half dozen men who work with him, all of them with airtight alibis. Zafir questioned everyone, not just security.”

  “I’d like to see where she was taken.”

  “Of course...” Emir said, and couldn’t help but admire the way she remained focused and calm no matter what was thrown at her. “On the outside, away from the main gate.”

  “We need to go back,” she said.

  “You’re surprised I didn’t stop there right away?” he asked at the slightly puzzled look on her face.

  “No.” She shook her head. “You were testing me.” She looked at him, her eyes sweeping his face. “And, yes, I need to see where Tara was taken.”

  Dell’s phone buzzed. A minute later he turned around with a troubled expression. “My mother just texted me. My father doesn’t have long.”

  “Dell, I’m sorry...” Emir began.

  Dell had offered to drive him as a favor between friends. Even with his father in hospital and the family gathered for those last moments, Dell had insisted on at least taking him to the airport. He suspected that Dell had sensed something off—and, as usual, that instinct, which had saved them a number of times on previous assignments, had been right.

  “Don’t be,” Dell said as he opened the door and got out.

  Emir got out of the backseat. Dell was obviously anxious to go as he handed the vehicle’s keys to him. He looked over to see Kate slip out the other side and grab the small canvas travel bag that Emir remembered tossing into the backset at the airport, which seemed like a million years ago. He turned his attention back to Dell. It was a difficult situation and he wished that he could change things for his old friend.

  Instead, he could only take the keys Dell handed him.

  “Dad’s had seventy good years. Meantime, you need to find Tara. If you need me, you know...”

  “I know, man. No worries,” Emir replied. Dell had been there with him not only today but after his parents’ deaths, and while he and his brothers raised a sister who at the time had been a young teen.

  Emir watched as Dell turned with a nod and headed toward a battered-looking Jeep at the edge of the long drive that led to the entrance of the property. He could feel Kate’s presence beside him but he didn’t look at her. He needed a minute to let his emotions settle. There’d been too much tragedy in too short a period of time.

  The sky was cloudy and the temperature was in the high sixties, much lower than average. Somehow the air seemed even cooler. He looked over as Kate shivered.

  “You all right?” Emir asked as he looked at her with more concern for her comfort than he knew he’d shown since she arrived.

  “It’s been a long day,” she admitted. “I’m tired and just a little chilled,” she said as she pulled a lightweight jacket out of her bag, the soft smell of coconut wafting around her.

  If she�
��d been a man he wouldn’t have worried about her comfort. Another reason why she shouldn’t be here.

  The masonry wall that surrounded the compound stretched out in front of them. They’d retraced their way on foot to the entrance of the compound, stopping seventy-five feet outside of it to a spot where Emir had been told his sister had been taken. Behind them, it was dusty and flat, a field that stretched into nothingness. Behind that, a public road ran about three hundred feet perpendicular to where they were. It was close enough that, had there been any traffic, the noise would have been disturbing. Ahead of them, rows of palm trees announced the entrance to the Al-Nassar compound.

  “They took her with little fight,” Kate said minutes later.

  “How do you know that?” he asked. It wasn’t something anyone else had seen. In fact, with one man dead and another in the hospital, it seemed rather a ludicrous pronouncement. A movement behind him had him turning around. On the public road, a thin, sun-bronzed man in T-shirt and faded jeans peddled past on a bike that pulled a small cart. Around them Marrakech spread out on both sides, the city seeming to glow as a result of the rich red clay that defined many if its buildings, whether the towers of a mosque or the walls of the city.

  “Do you have the kidnappers’ original message?” she asked.

  “I don’t know where you’re going with this.”

  “Trust me,” she said, holding out her hand.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, punched in a code and handed it to her.

  She took the phone, listened and then hit Replay immediately after it ended.

  “What do you think?”

  “The voice isn’t distinctive. It’s male, but beyond that there’s nothing. Midrange. No accent of any sort. Odd.”

  “Exactly what I thought,” he said.

  “Too bad we couldn’t listen to the second. Compare.”

  “They were different. I’m sure of it,” he said. Unfortunately there’d been no time to record that message.