BOOKER Box Set #2 (A Private Investigator Thriller Series of Crime and Suspense): Volumes 4-6

by John W. Mefford

Renee, a step ahead of me, must have heard the same cheesy exchange. She turned her head over her shoulder and gave me a smirking eye roll.

  What stuck with me was her warm smile. Under a few layers of crocodile skin used to navigate the murky, infested waters of the corporate business world was a true lady, with substance and experiences to share. And with all her wisdom, she apparently scoffed at those who took themselves too seriously. For a split second, I drifted away and wondered what Momma might think of Renee.

  One deep breath later, images crashed into my mind of a conniving, evil woman cloaked in the most sensuous body I’d ever seen. Not Renee. The Other One. I could already feel my neck getting flushed. To keep my temperature from rising further, I lost myself in the cackles and corny jokes around me. It was mindless, but a nice respite from the guilt I’d heaped on myself for not seeing what had been right in front of me for months, a pathological murderer.

  While Renee had several opportunities to stop and hobnob with the Dallas elite, she chose to say a quick hello, smile, give a pat on the shoulder, and move on. I could see a look of determination in her face, and her steps were even more assertive. A woman on a mission. Her interest and effort to help me was beyond nice. The more I mingled through the group, I realized having Renee at my side was probably necessary to get anyone to listen to me. I’d have to return the favor in the future—I wanted to return the favor—and I’d enjoy it just as much as she would.

  Without any warning, Renee pulled us both to a stop, and she turned to look at a painting, one of many that adorned the walls of the pavilion.

  “Beautiful sunset,” I said, admiring a sun’s purple hue radiate across a tree-covered mountain. “Appears to be a donation from a Dr. and Mrs. Brent Hazelton. Painting is from the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee.”

  Renee gazed at the art but acted as if she didn’t hear me. “Over my left shoulder, just inside the ballroom,” she said.

  I glanced in that direction. “The one with the red tuxedo vest. Zahi?”

  She nodded. “Follow my lead. I’ll try to get you some time alone with him. Then it’s up to you.”

  We paused and gawked at two more donated paintings. Without staring, I could see Zahi standing in the middle of a large group, a hand in his pocket. He had a suave veneer. He would speak and everyone around him would laugh like Jimmy Fallon had just made a joke. He was essentially holding court.

  Just before we turned to “accidentally” bump into the oil magnate, I spotted the same man I’d seen earlier in the older part of the mansion. Holding both hands in front of his body, he looked around the room as if he had no friends. I pointed him out to Renee.

  “I think he’s part of the security team,” I said.

  “Some of the uber wealthy folks actually bring bodyguards. But they have to blend in. The fact that Zahi has one isn’t too surprising. I’m sure there are others among us, particularly those watching after the elected officials. I’d imagine we probably have a few congressmen or congresswomen here as well.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Follow my lead. Act casual,” she said.

  Renee turned and walked a straight line as if heading toward the food station. I followed her, my eyes purposely scanning the room around me, not paying much attention to my immediate surroundings. “Hey, Renee, I just spotted Troy and his date. Why don’t we go say—”

  She bumped Zahi’s arm, spilling her flute of champagne all over her arm.

  “Oh my, I’m such a klutz,” she said, taking a step back.

  I walked toward the food table and snatched a few napkins as she glanced up.

  “Oh, my, Zahi? What a coincidence,” she exclaimed.

  I approached them, noticing the rest of Zahi’s group had split up and were not paying as much attention. I handed her two napkins.

  “It’s Renee, isn’t it?” he asked. “Dallas Performing Arts.”

  He turned to his flock of followers and said, “Pardon me for a quick moment.” Then, turning back to Renee, he brought a hand to her elbow. “I must apologize. I am the klutz.”

  Renee’s smile lit up our space, and I quickly got the feeling Zahi had that effect on most women.

  Dabbing her arm and the edges of her shawl, she brought me in. “Zahi, I’d like you to meet Booker Adams. He’s a good friend of mine, a supporter of the arts, just like you.”

  “Booker, any friend of Renee’s is a friend of mine.”

  Ever the charmer, Zahi shook my hand in one strong motion. I could see his tux was a designer make of some kind. He had a bit of a mysterious look to him, with thick, groomed eyebrows, recessed eyes. His skin actually glowed. I think he’d visited a few spas in his time. Or maybe they had visited him.

  “Thank you. Lots of money tonight going to another great cause,” I said, extending my arm to the rest of the ballroom.

  “It truly is. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, how the Cherish Our Kids teams fly into areas ravaged by a natural disaster or even civil war. Their sole mission is to help nourish and heal our kids. Can there be any better cause?”

  “Not that I can think of,” I said, crinkling my eyes, realizing he was shorter than I’d originally thought. It must have been his gregarious personality that made him seem larger than his actual size, a shade under six feet.

  “You just have to share with us what life is like in the Middle East,” Renee said, parking herself between Zahi and his throng of fake friends. “You’re such the world traveler, and I find that part of the world so intriguing.”

  He released a slight grin, as if she’d just punched his ego button.

  “Well, it’s not everything you see on the news or trending on the Internet.”

  I nodded, as did Renee. Both of us were engaged as if Zahi was the sitting president.

  “Everyone thinks of the desert when they think of the Middle East, my homeland Saudi Arabia included. Our land is full of contrasts—striking mountains, beautiful valleys, and scenic beaches along the Red Sea.”

  “Sounds like a cool place to visit. How much time do you spend there?” I asked.

  “It’s difficult to predict. Depending on my meetings and time of year, I can be there for weeks at a time. Other times, I might only fly through for a couple of days a month. Whenever I bring along business associates, I make sure to take them two places.”

  He held up two fingers, both groomed better than his eyebrows.

  “Al Tayebat, a museum in the city of Jeddah, a former palace of a former king. It holds beautiful, ancient manuscripts and books, along with portraits and monuments to educate those who want to learn more about our land, our people, and our culture.”

  “Sounds quite interesting,” Renee said, reaching out and touching his arm.

  Now she was really stroking his…ego.

  “The second place is more of a testament to our advancements in modern architecture and technology. The construction of the tallest building in the world,” he said with a breathy voice, his hand sweeping in front of him. “When it’s finished, it will stand over one kilometer.”

  I tried to do the math.

  “A little over three thousand feet?”

  “Almost thirty-three hundred feet. The Kingdom Tower will utilize fifty-nine elevators, each traveling at a maximum speed of ten meters per second. It will have a sloped exterior to reduce wind loads, the highest observatory in the world. Overlooking the Red Sea, it will be the centerpiece to a new development, investing in our economy, our people.”

  Taking a sip of my drink, I could see Zahi’s hairline shine a bit. He was one hell of an ambassador for the new way of life in Saudi Arabia.

  I saw it as an opportunity.

  “Sounds absolutely fascinating. I’m not that thrilled with heights, but the construction process sounds interesting. I’d imagine when it’s finally complete, there will be a few shops to visit.”

  I purposely peered at Renee, who took the cue and made her eyes wide with excitement.

  “When do we leave?” she s
aid with a hand covering her giggle.

  “My jet is at Love Field; we can leave tonight after the party, if you like,” Zahi said.

  He appeared serious.

  “I was just joking. Well, not really, but I have a lot of commitments right here in Dallas,” Renee added, who shifted closer to me until our hips touched. It was nice.

  He held out a hand. “That is quite all right. I understand my spontaneous lifestyle is not for everyone.”

  Renee nestled her face against my ear. “He’s all yours,” she whispered.

  “I need to visit the ladies’ room. Make sure you guys don’t run off and start gambling without me. I’d like to have my date on my arm.”

  She gave me an obvious wink, but I knew she was only setting the ball on the proverbial tee.

  We both watched her glide away, her background as a ballet dancer very apparent, at least in my unstudied eyes.

  “She’s quite a woman,” Zahi said.

  Glancing at the Middle Eastern oil magnate, I could see he’d taken a liking to Renee rather quickly.

  “I’m a lucky guy, for one night anyway,” I said, shuffling over to the food table just behind Zahi. “So, I haven’t seen your date tonight.”

  He held his posture for just a moment.

  “Don’t tell me you brought more than one date? Damn, you do have everything.” I chuckled while fiddling with a pair of bent metal tongs to place two pieces of cheese and a cracker on a small plate. That wouldn’t do much for my hunger pangs.

  “No, Mr. Adams—”

  “Booker, please.”

  “Of course, Booker. I am a lonely single man tonight. See, I do not have the most cherished things in this world. Money cannot buy everything.”

  Cry me a river. I shifted a few more steps away from his personal laugh-in group.

  “Are you not the dating type? Just looking for Miss Perfect to take back to see your family?”

  He wiggled his tie, cleared his throat, as if he was biding time.

  “I’m thirty-nine years old and have yet to find wife material, as you Americans might say. But I must keep fighting the good fight.”

  He popped the back of my shoulder right as I bit into my cracker causing a flurry of crumbs to fall to the floor.

  He chuckled, saying, “I’m so sorry. Let me get you another cracker…cracka.”

  Turning my head, it seemed like the whole world spun around me in slow motion. Had Zahi just spoken to me like he was one of my running buddies from my old hood? Perhaps he was simply drunk.

  “Oh, did I offend you? I’m so sorry. I mean no offense. I’m simply a naïve, uneducated man interested in learning more of the ‘street jargon’ in America.”

  He gave me the quote salute. I felt like giving him the one-finger salute, but instead I quickly flooded my brain with a repetitive thought. He’s just another asshole.

  The diversion allowed me the time to force the bigger picture of this exercise to the top of my mind—it was all about uncovering information about Alisa’s little sister.

  I didn’t respond to Zahi’s so-called apology. Looking over his shoulder, I brushed cracker crumbs off the sleeve of my jacket.

  “You have an eye for Renee, I can see.” He held up a finger, his dark eyes narrowing as if he’d just infiltrated my deepest thoughts. For a moment, it appeared he wore black eye shadow. “She’s a classy woman. Perhaps she’s your wife material?”

  He gave me a sly grin, again, acting like we shared a bond. We were males, but the similarities ended right there.

  “We can agree on one thing. Renee is a classy lady. She’s a good friend.” I felt the sincerity behind my tone of voice. I then attempted to regain my footing in the conversation.

  “I guess you probably go to dozens of these events?

  “I cannot lie. Yes, here in Dallas, Houston, especially in your nation’s capital. I believe the term is ‘schmoozing.’” He chuckled again.

  “Do you bring dates to events like these typically?” I asked.

  His eyes glanced away, suddenly disinterested. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It all depends.”

  “And how old they are?” I asked too quickly.

  I brought my phone within two feet of his face. “Do you know her?” I showed him one of Natalie’s modeling shots that Sarah had given us.

  An eye twitched slightly. “She is quite beautiful, but I do not know her.”

  I flicked my thumb across the cell phone screen. “What about now?” It was the shot of Natalie and Zahi arm in arm at some similar gala.

  His face went blank, and he shifted his eyes toward me. “What is your purpose in asking me that question, Booker?”

  “Did you know she’s only nineteen?”

  He looked away, tipped his head back to drink out of the tumbler. He had the look of a runner—someone from the hood that when you pinned them against the wall, they wouldn’t admit to any wrongdoing, so they just took off. But I think he knew I wouldn’t just laugh at him and let him off the hook. I’d follow him into the men’s room if that’s what it took to get an answer.

  Turning to me, he peered into my eyes, then glanced back toward no one at a nearby craps table. “I had no idea Natalie was nineteen. That, I swear to you.”

  He almost sounded believable. All charming manipulators do, especially with young girls.

  “It’s not statutory, so you’re safe on that front,” I said.

  His eyes scrunched together. I shifted my line of questions.

  “Why did you not admit that you knew Natalie?”

  Releasing a heavy breath through his nostrils, he spoke directly at me, his volume level reduced by fifty percent. “I will tell you now that at one time I dated Natalie. She was quite a girl.”

  Another person using the word “was” when referring to Natalie. I could feel my gut twist into a sizable knot.

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I do not mind talking about her, but why are you, the plus-one for Renee, asking me these questions?”

  “I’m a private investigator. No one has seen or heard from Natalie in more than a week. I need to find her, make sure she’s safe.”

  “So, you’re not a police detective or with the FBI?”

  “Would that make a difference?” I leaned into that question.

  “Uh…of course not. I just want to know if I should bring in my lawyer for this conversation.”

  “Your lawyer is at this fundraiser?”

  “Yes, he is a part of my, uh, what you call a posse.” He grinned for a brief moment.

  I rolled my eyes, ensuring he could see me.

  “Natalie. The last time you saw or spoke to her?”

  He tapped his fingernail against his glass, now mostly filled with watery ice. “That’s a difficult one to answer. With all my travels across time zones, I lose track of my days. You can ask anyone.”

  “What’s your best guess? Yesterday, last Sunday, two weeks ago on a Tuesday night for a pizza buffet?”

  He held up a finger. “It cannot be yesterday. You said she’s been missing for more than a week.”

  “I didn’t use the term missing. I said no one has seen or heard from her. I don’t want to play word games, so let me be succinct. Have you seen or heard from Natalie in the last nine days?”

  “I’m sorry, but I have not. I’m not trying to elude you. This is truly upsetting news.” He pursed his lips, and I could see his Adam’s apple move, as if he were swallowing back a tear.

  I wasn’t buying it.

  “You stopped dating each other prior to nine days ago?”

  “Yes, it’s been at least a month, maybe two since we last ‘dated.’”

  He used finger quotes again. I was glad Alisa wasn’t with me, because she would have taken those fingers and crammed them up his Jimmy Durante nose. I withheld the urge to make physical contact with the guy, but I could still feel tension building in my arms and shoulders.

  Standing toe to toe
, I locked eyes with his, my breath bouncing off his bowling ball forehead.

  “Zahi, I hope you understand the severity of the situation. I need to know everything you know about Natalie, anything that intersects with your life, anything at all that could be important in finding her.”

  My jaw was stiff, my eyes focused and unblinking, which is why I didn’t see the man coming up behind me. Suddenly, I felt a vice grip under my armpit.

  “Mr. Kareem, is this man bothering you?”

  The cork popped on my bottle of adrenaline, and I could envision myself twisting and chopping my arm upward, delivering two quick shots to his ribs. Then, as he turned, I would send a final blow to his kidney, sending him tumbling to the floor writhing in pain. All in about two point five seconds.

  Instead, I channeled my bundled energy and forced out a breath while causally clenching my arm against my side—as if my life depended on it. Catching the placement of his fingers just right, it didn’t take long until he tried to tug his way out of my grip.

  He had no chance. Seconds later, my shoulder and arm muscles firing on ten cylinders, I could feel his fingers cracking from the unrelenting pressure.

  “Ahh,” the guy moaned as I glanced over my shoulder to look at him. It was the same bodyguard I’d noticed earlier, but with a grimacing red face.

  “It’s okay, Nick. No need to make a scene. I don’t think Booker wants to be kicked out of this fine event.”

  “I’m having a grand time. How about you, Nick?” I turned my head back around and smirked, my arm still pressed against my side, the bodyguard twisting his torso to try to limit the number of bone cracks, sweat beading on the bridge of his nose.

  I finally let go and moved my pivot foot to ensure I was prepared for any type of quick response. His mouth hanging open, he tensed his shoulders, glaring at his mangled fingers. He shot me a go to hell look, then marched off holding his hand like it wasn’t attached as he spoke into his lapel.

  Backups are on their way.

  Amazingly, no one seemed to care or notice our little interaction. Everyone was having far too much fun rolling the dice, dancing, or drinking.

  “Where were we?” I asked, straightening my tuxedo coat. “Oh yes, you were about to open up and tell me your life story.” I popped him on the side of his shoulder with a little extra zest, knocking him off-balance, and I could sense he finally knew I meant business.