by Cassie Miles
“At the airfield,” she said, “did you notice anyone else watching my plane arrive?”
He folded his arms across his skinny chest and leaned back in the chair. “Maybe I did.”
Now they were getting somewhere. Jake was tempted to step in and take over the interrogation, but Saida seemed to be asking the right questions.
“Tell me about these others who were watching,” she said. “What did they look like? What kind of vehicles were they driving?”
Danny smirked. “This is important, huh?”
She sat in the chair beside him. Though she didn’t actually touch him, she reached out with the full force of her personal charisma. “I must know what you saw and who you saw.”
Danny’s expression changed. Gazing at her, he seemed to be melting. An involuntary smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His smug attitude disappeared as he leaned forward, wanting to be close to her.
And the princess reeled him in. Her left hand rested on the table, just beyond his grasp. With the other hand, she raked her shimmering black hair away from her cheek as she tilted her head to one side. She lowered her eyelids and slowly looked up at him.
A worshipful sigh pushed through his lips. “Oh, Saida.”
“Please tell me, Danny.”
“It’s a private airfield,” he said, “so there isn’t a lot of security. I parked in the lot and walked closer. I stayed in the shadows, out of sight. After you got into your rental car, I talked to one of the guys who unloaded your luggage. He told me you were going to see Sheriff Wolf.”
“Did you see him speak to anyone else?”
Danny shook his head. “I figured you were going to meet the sheriff at his office, and I wasted a lot of time driving into Dumont before I came here.”
“Other than the men who worked at the airfield, did you see anyone?”
“No, and I’m aware of other people. I try to be first on the scene with the exclusive photos.”
Jake glanced toward his deputy and gave a nod. They needed to add another item to their list of things to do: talk to the workers at the airfield and find out who else they’d talked to.
“There’s one more thing,” Danny said. “When I went to the parking lot, I almost got run down. This guy was hauling ass. He was in a black truck.”
That pretty much cinched it. Jake knew how the bad guys got their information. The real question was: Why? Why were they after the princess?
SAIDA WISHED SHE HAD gotten more from her interrogation of Danny. He had been in Wyoming from the start, snapping photos, and she wanted to look through those pictures and search for clues. She’d taken Danny’s card with the intention of arranging a meeting with him later at the resort.
Before Deputy Wheeler had escorted Danny from the house, Jake had insisted that he delete the photographs he’d taken of them on the porch. She was glad. The last time she’d been the starring topic of entertainment news, it had taken a toll on her privacy. A suggested romance with the handsome sheriff would distract from the important matter of finding her brother.
With Wheeler and Danny gone and Maggie still upstairs in her bedroom, Saida found herself alone in the living room with Jake. She had to take advantage of this moment before Sheik Efraim arrived. Somehow, she had to solidify her relationship with the sheriff and convince him that she was indispensable to the investigation.
“That went well,” she said. “Now we know how the bad guys found out about my arrival. I’m good at interrogating, aren’t I?”
He went to a chair by the fireplace and sat. “I’m guessing that you’re a woman who knows how to get what she wants.”
“A useful ability in an investigation.”
“I suppose.”
He had put up a shield to deflect anything and everything she said. Jake wouldn’t be won over by flattery. Nor would he be impressed if she batted her eyelashes and bestowed a thousand sweet smiles. Her last resort was logic.
She sat on the end of the sofa closest to his chair. “I’ve been asking myself why my brother came here. He’s a sensible man and never does anything on a whim. Why did he choose this place for the summit meeting?”
“The Wind River Ranch and Resort has a fine reputation.” Jake eyed her with suspicion. “No one seems to know exactly why he chose the place.”
“As his sister, I have a deeper understanding of Amir than anyone else.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“It was eight or nine months ago. He was in the United States on business and spent a few days with me in Beverly Hills.” That time was a bit of a blur. “I was so busy starting law school that I wasn’t very attentive.”
If she had been more alert, she might have picked up clues. It pained her to think that she might have missed something that could save her brother’s life.
Jake asked, “What did you talk about?”
They’d argued about her tabloid notoriety. Amir thought it was high time for her to settle down. When she’d said the same to him, he had seemed secretive. “I had a feeling about him. There was something different. Maybe he was involved with a woman.”
“I don’t know your brother,” Jake said, “but I’ve seen how women react to the other COIN princes. I’m guessing that Amir had plenty of girlfriends.”
“He has a reputation. Some refer to him as a black sheep. But it’s not true. My brother is nothing like our father. He was the great womanizer.”
Her father had disappointed her in so many ways. She tried not to think about him, opening that door released a gush of regret. “My father had a great fondness for the American West. He often told us stories about cowboys and ranches.”
“Maybe he spent time in the West,” Jake suggested.
“As a young man, he came to the Rocky Mountains.” One of the few occasions when her father paid attention to her was when she was learning to ride. “He told me about cowgirls. How they could ride and use a rope as well as any man.”
“And shoot,” Jake said. “Like Annie Oakley.”
“Oh, yes. I watched the movie.” She’d loved the stories and the independent spirit of Western women. “I wanted to be like those cowgirls. Amir is nine years older than I am, but he would play cowboy with me.”
“Did your father visit Wyoming?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I was very young when he told me those stories.”
“We can ask around,” Jake said. “Some of the old-timers might remember.”
“A wonderful idea.”
She noticed that he’d said “we.” He was including her in the investigation, and that was a step in the right direction. Everything was going her way. She’d work with Jake—a prospect that pleased her on several levels. They’d find Amir, and he’d be all right. There would be happy endings all around.
The front door swung open. Sheik Efraim Aziz of Nadar strode into the living room.
She braced herself for the impending storm.
Chapter Six
Efraim was different. Saida saw a huge change in the tall, dark, handsome sheik she’d known all her life. For one thing, he was dressed like a cowboy in jeans, a Western-cut shirt and casual jacket. Unbelievable! Efraim despised and distrusted everything American and had given her no end of grief about her decision to live in California. And here he was, looking like he’d sauntered in from a rodeo.
His posture was still ramrod-straight and his black eyes burned with intensity, but his granite jaw was relaxed. He was somehow…gentler.
She also observed a degree of animosity between Jake and Efraim as they exchanged tight-lipped nods. Instead of crossing the living room to shake hands, Jake stayed in his position beside the fireplace, and Efraim made no attempt to approach the sheriff.
Instead, he came toward her. “Saida, when will you learn to listen to me? You should have stayed in Beverly Hills.”
“It’s nice to see you, too.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said coldly.
“I’m not go
ing.”
“We’ll see about that.” With a smooth gesture, he presented the petite blonde woman who accompanied him. She was also wearing jeans but she had on a tailored, professional-looking black blazer. “I’d like to introduce Callie McGuire, an assistant to the Secretary of Foreign Affairs.”
As he spoke her name, Efraim’s voice warmed. Someone who didn’t know him as well as Saida wouldn’t have noticed the difference in his tone, but she’d grown up around Efraim. When she was a little girl, he and her brother were teenagers. She had followed the two young men everywhere. They paid no attention to Amir’s tagalong little sister, but she watched them carefully, memorizing their moods and their language. She’d copied their swagger when she walked. And she’d been reprimanded for using curse words she heard from them.
Efraim had crooned Callie McGuire’s name. Combined with his newfound gentleness and the cowboy clothes, there was only one logical conclusion: Sheik Efraim had fallen in love with an American woman.
Saida shook hands with Callie and said, “You must be good at your job. Efraim is usually too negative about American policy to spend time with a government representative.”
“He’s coming around,” Callie said. “I’m happy to meet you, Princess. The Secretary speaks highly of you.”
“Are you based in Washington, D.C.?”
“Yes, but my roots are right here in Wind River County.”
“It’s such beautiful country,” Saida said. “I’d love for you to show me around.”
“You’re not staying,” Efraim said.
“That’s not your decision,” she said. “You don’t have the authority to tell me what to do. You lost that opportunity when you refused to join in an arranged marriage with me. By the way, I thank you for that.”
“An antiquated custom,” he muttered.
No one had taken the idea of her marrying Efraim seriously, even though it would have knit their two countries more closely together. “I was only eleven at the time.”
“You know, Saida, it wouldn’t hurt for you to have a strong, powerful husband to fight your battles.”
He might be dressed like an American cowboy, but his attitudes were old-school royalty. There was no point in arguing with him. He wouldn’t change his mind.
Instead, Saida appealed to Callie. “Maybe you can make him understand. I’m not looking for a husband. And I won’t run away and hide. I need to be here, searching for Amir.”
“Actually,” Callie said, “I have a solution that would work for both of you. Saida could go to Cheyenne—far enough away that she wouldn’t be in danger but close enough to stay in touch with what’s happening here.”
“Why Cheyenne?” she asked.
“The Annual Cattlemen’s Ball takes place there in a few days. A lot of people in the oil business attend, and I know they’d be honored to have the princess attend as a representative of the COIN nations.”
“An excellent plan,” Efraim pronounced. “If your brother was here, he would approve.”
Unfortunately, he was correct. Amir was quick to shuttle her off to gala events where she could make contacts. “Thanks, Callie. I’ll consider your suggestion. In the meantime, I have other concerns. The sheriff and I were just discussing my brother’s disappearance. Could you brief me on—”
“Don’t start,” Efraim said as he stepped between them. “It’s dangerous for you to be here, Saida. On the way here, we drove past the crime scene and saw the car you were driving. You could have been killed.”
“Yes, there was a threat. However—as you can clearly see—I wasn’t injured.”
“A minor miracle,” Efraim said.
“I can take care of myself,” she insisted. “Tell him, Jake.”
Until now, Jake had been standing back, watching their argument through narrowed eyes. He spoke without smiling. “I saw part of the car chase. Saida walked away without injury because she’s one hell of an amazing driver.”
“Stay out of this,” Efraim warned. “This is none of your business.”
“But it is,” Jake said. “The crime was committed in my county. On my watch.”
“Of all people, you should know how dangerous it is for her to be here. You should want her to leave.”
“Saida is a grown woman.” Jake shifted his position in front of the mantle, squaring his shoulders to more directly confront Efraim. “She’s capable of making her own decisions.”
“The princess is under the protection of her brother. Since he isn’t here, I will decide what’s best for her. I won’t allow her to put herself in danger.”
She stepped forward. “I’m aware of the risk. I’d be a fool not to acknowledge the violence that has taken place here. And the deaths.”
A shadow crossed Efraim’s face, and she knew what he was thinking. She offered a condolence. “I’m sorry about Fahad.”
“A traitor. I won’t mourn his passing.”
Easy to say, harder to accept. At one time, long ago, she’d had a minor crush on Fahad, the head of security for Efraim. His betrayal came after years of service.
“It’s late,” Efraim said as he turned on his heel and walked toward the door. “Come along, Saida. You’ll stay at the resort tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll return to California.”
“No,” she said firmly. She had to take a stand. “I won’t leave until Amir is found. He’s my brother, my blood, the only family I have left. I’ll move mountains to find him. No obstacle is too great. No danger too intimidating. My only regret is that I didn’t come here sooner. I will not leave.”
A moment of silence followed her statement. Efraim regarded her thoughtfully. He wasn’t accustomed to seeing such determination from her. Never mind that she’d built an independent life for herself in California, that she’d qualified for law school and earned excellent grades. He still saw her as Amir’s annoying little sister whose only talent was to look pretty and smile.
Quietly, Jake said, “You’re welcome to stay in my guest bedroom.”
“I appreciate your hospitality.”
Efraim’s jaw tensed. He appeared to be on the verge of issuing a royal command until Callie touched his arm. “It appears to me,” she said, “that this decision is made.”
Efraim looked down at the woman beside him. When their eyes met, he softened, and then he sighed. “Very well.”
Saida’s inner self was high-kicking in a happy dance. Outwardly, she maintained her calm. “I’ll be in touch.”
Efraim nodded to Jake. “Keep her safe.”
“That’s my job.”
JAKE HATED BULLIES. He always had.
Saida wasn’t his idea of an underdog, but he didn’t like the way Sheik Efraim had ordered her to leave town. Matter of fact, he didn’t much like the sheik, at all. Tonight wasn’t their first face-off and probably wouldn’t be the last.
To be fair, Efraim’s intentions toward Saida were good; he wanted to keep her safe. Jake had taken pretty much the same position, but he hadn’t treated her like a moron and hadn’t belittled her feelings for her brother.
He had empathy for Saida. When Efraim put her down, Jake’s anti-bullying instincts kicked in. He’d been compelled to step in and offer his home as a refuge. Either he was really noble or really foolish. Whichever, the princess would be sleeping in his guest bedroom tonight.
After Efraim and Callie left, Jake arranged with Wheeler to have deputies guarding his house, front and back, on rotating shifts. He sent Wheeler off with a list of investigative tasks and priorities. First and foremost was to initiate the search for the black truck that crashed into Saida’s car.
Entering the kitchen, he was hit with the smell of burnt cheese and garlic. His sister hovered over the counter and stared into a pan filled with a gooey, red blob. She poked at it with a spatula, and the blob crackled as though alive.
He glanced toward Saida who stood near the door with a water bottle in her hand. “Do I want to know what Maggie is doing?”
“It’s my linguini.”
Maggie poked again and a hiss of steam exploded from the pan. “I left it warming in the oven too long. It’s dead.”
“Rest in peace,” he said. “I would tell you to take the pan outside, but I don’t want to poison the chipmunks.”
She gestured with the spatula, flipping a bit of gooey red onto the adobe tiled floor. “I’d be mad at you for that comment if I wasn’t so proud of you for letting Saida stay here tonight. You did the right thing.”
Or not. “I have some ground rules, Saida.”
“Of course.”
Her eyes were wide and innocent as a baby kitten’s. He reminded himself that she was more like a tigress. “Don’t leave the house tonight. I have an alarm system and deputies posted outside so you ought to be safe.”
“Fair enough.”
“You can only stay here tonight. One night only.” He couldn’t spare the manpower to guard his house tomorrow while he was at work, and there was the possibility that the bad guys would come here looking for Saida. Maggie would be in danger. “When I leave for the office tomorrow, you’re coming with me.”
“What time?”
“Eight o’clock.”
Though she nodded, her docile attitude was beginning to slip. “Tomorrow, I’ll accompany you to your office. I’d like to review the crime reports.”
“That’s police business, not open to public scrutiny. Besides which, my department has been thorough. You won’t find a lead that hasn’t been pursued.”
“He’s right,” Maggie said as she dumped the deceased linguini into a black garbage bag. “You shouldn’t bother with the crime reports.”
Since when was his baby sister the expert? “I suppose you have this all figured out.”
“That’s right.” She wrapped the garbage bag tightly around the pan. “The best way for Saida to help with your investigation is to use what she knows about her brother, her family and the other COIN royals. I bet she’s already told you stuff that nobody else knows.”
He remembered Saida’s story about her father, the former Sheik of Jamala, and his love of the West. There might be more relevant clues in her memory; his sister had a point. “All right. Good plan.”
