Where had the money come from?
At the next light, Zahad made a U-turn and headed back toward the police station, debating with himself the whole way. Three months ago seemed rather early for anyone to have received a payoff to commit murder. The cyber-stalking hadn’t even started until six weeks later.
However, the timing corresponded with the onset of the carjackings. Until the patrols grew heavier, the perpetrators had targeted the ski area where the Garroways worked. They’d certainly been aware that tourists with bulging wallets frequented the area. On the other hand, Tish herself had fallen victim.
At the station, Zahad learned that Finley was out, so he spoke with Detective Rygel. The black-haired man, whom he judged to be in his early thirties, listened intently. “Why did you run a credit check on Al and Tish Garroway?” the detective inquired after taking notes.
“In my country, being a sheikh involves functioning somewhat like a CEO,” Zahad said. “I subscribe to an Internet service to run background checks on prospective employees.”
“The Garroways want to work for you?”
“I ran checks on all the neighbors. Someone killed my brother. If there are clues in their backgrounds, I wished to find them.”
“Parker told me you’d been poking around.” The detective regarded him with reluctant approval. “I have to admit, I didn’t much like the idea, but this information is worth looking into.”
They parted on amicable terms. Although he hadn’t shed any light on Fario’s death, Zahad mused as he drove home, if he had helped the police to crack the carjacking ring, at least they would have more time to devote to the murders.
But that didn’t mean they would solve them in time to protect Jenny.
Uneasily, he recalled the nocturnal break-in attempt at her shed. Whatever the killer had been seeking, it didn’t appear to have figured into Ray’s death. Had he simply changed his plans and seized the opportunity to use Ray’s car as a murder weapon or was he planning an additional crime?
The original target of the slaying might have been Jenny. If so, the killer wasn’t likely to stop until he got her.
Zahad couldn’t bear to think of her and Beth alone in the house. He might have asked Dolly to stay with them, but she had her hands full with a grieving daughter and granddaughter.
As he drove along Pine Forest Road, he found himself considering something he once would have dismissed out of hand. He could delay his return and simply let matters fall where they might in Alqedar. If Amy and Sharif were able to stave off the attacks on him, fine. If not, perhaps it was time he set his sights elsewhere.
Zahad didn’t delude himself into assuming he and Jenny could build a future together. It might be possible, but even if he were to remain in the United States, it might not. They both had independent natures and vastly different backgrounds.
But he wanted very much to keep her safe. As for the people of Yazir, he’d risked his life to free them and had struggled for the past two years to serve them, and what was their response? Indifference, at best.
At the house, after a quick security check, Zahad entered through the rear door. Warm air redolent of coffee and baby powder triggered delicious memories of Jenny and Beth. Their scents and smiles and voices overlaid the emptiness of the house and filled the void inside him.
He would stay and protect them, no matter what it cost.
Opening his cell phone, he dialed Amy’s number. He had intended to call her today in any event, and she had a right to know of his change of heart. He hoped she would not take it hard.
She answered on the first ring. The instant she heard his voice, she said excitedly, “You should see this! You’re not going to believe it.”
“What?”
“I’m looking out my office window.” Located on the upper floor of the palace, it had a view that extended past a freestanding perimeter wall and all the way to the market square. “Half the province is marching in the streets. You’d need a bulldozer to get into the town center.”
“What do they want?” Zahad asked in alarm. If Numa and Hashim had brought civil war to Yazir, they would set back his public-works plans and devastate the economy.
“Didn’t Sharif tell you?”
“Evidently not.”
“I organized a little protest,” Amy explained.
“A little protest?”
“Well, maybe not so little.”
“You did this?” he asked, unsure how to react. “Amy, what’s going on?”
“I figured the people have a right to decide what happens to their province.”
There had never been a widespread protest in Yazir before. Zahad hoped she hadn’t started something that would careen out of control. “Perhaps Hashim stirred them up.”
“No way,” she told him. “I run the Web site. And then there’s Radio Yazir. They gave me fifteen minutes this morning for my spiel.” One of Zahad’s first actions had been to restore a long-neglected radio station and staff it with energetic young residents. It broadcast local programming for two hours daily.
“Tell me what you said.” He sank into the desk chair, trying to absorb this turn of events.
“I reminded them of everything you’ve done and told them about your plans for the future. I made it clear that Hashim doesn’t care about them, he just wants power. I said that if they don’t make their opinions known, they can expect more of the same neglect they’ve endured in the past.”
“You did not speak ill of my father or brother, I hope.” Much as he appreciated her support, Zahad wouldn’t be party to blackening their names.
“I didn’t mention them or Numa, either,” Amy said. “People can draw their own conclusions. The citizens aren’t stupid. They understand what’s going on. Well, at least they do now.”
“Now that you’ve leveled with them.” He should have done so himself, Zahad thought. He’d assumed they would follow the lead of the foremost families, as they always had, but he’d been wrong. His cousin, who wasn’t even a native of Yazir, had trusted them more than he had.
“Well, you should see them now,” Amy crowed. “The market’s pulsing with people waving signs and chanting. Hashim went out a while ago to try to talk to them, and they shook their fists in his face and chased him back to the palace.”
“What do the signs say?” Zahad was starting to grin.
“I don’t want to give you a swelled head.” She clicked her tongue. “Oh, all right. One of them says, Zahad! Rightful Leader. Then there’s, Zahad, Yes! Hashim, Never! And We Will Fight to Keep Our Sheikh. I didn’t write that slogan.”
“You wrote the others?” He chuckled at her audacity.
“Well, sure. Oh, wait, there’s a new one. Our Hearts Belong to Zahad. I swear, that one isn’t mine.”
“Are you certain you are not exaggerating for my sake? Did you pay any of them?”
“Certainly not! And Radio Yazir just estimated the crowd at ten thousand. It’s broadcasting overtime. I can’t see them all from here. Apparently they’re spilling in from the countryside.”
“Ten thousand?”
“You bet!”
It was unheard of. The province’s entire population did not surpass thirty thousand. Even allowing for wishful thinking on the part of the broadcasters, this was an impressive showing.
Over the years, without realizing it, Zahad had developed an outsider’s mentality. Accustomed to struggling in the background with little recognition, he’d never expected to be popular. His spirits soared.
“You have done a wonderful thing,” he said.
“You’re the star of the show. Everyone wants to see you,” Amy said. “When are you getting back?”
“By Friday,” he replied. It would take that long, factoring in the international flight and the time difference. “Amy, I can never thank you enough.”
“I just lit the fuse. You’re the one who built the bomb. Wait. I didn’t put that very well.”
“I got the point. Thank you.”
“You’re going to knock ’em dead,” his cousin told him. “I’ll bet Hashim’s packing his suitcase now.”
“Let us hope so.” As they said farewell, he was already eager to return.
Hashim would never be able to govern the province now. Neither, Zahad suspected, would anyone chosen by Numa.
Never had he imagined his soul could feel so torn, joyful and anxiety-filled at the same time. Yet his path was clear. He must not put personal happiness before his duty to his countrymen. Other warriors, including his cousin Sharif, had lost people they loved while engaged in battle. Zahad hoped it would not come to that for Jenny, but beyond any question, he must return to Alqedar.
He had a suitcase to pack.
Chapter Sixteen
Jenny usually ate in the school cafeteria. However, as Wednesday was her last chance to be alone with Zahad, she took off for a longer-than-normal lunch break after calling to inform him that she was on her way home.
When she came through the door, he gathered her close. They scarcely needed to speak. What she craved was the feel of his hair beneath her fingers, his mouth covering hers, and more…
They left a trail of clothes en route to her room. By the time they reached the bed, they were naked. They barely stopped to use the protection Zahad produced.
He made love to her with all the fierceness of a desert warrior and the tenderness of a man who adored her. But Jenny didn’t wish to think about emotions. There was a comfort in the reality of his body entering hers and the intense physical connection they forged.
She knew her future was not meant to include him. So she wanted as much as she could get in the present. And the present had condensed into a few stolen minutes of pleasure so keen it verged on pain.
As she writhed against Zahad, Jenny tried to imprint in her consciousness every detail of him. She relished the way his muscles shifted and his hands caressed her hips. She absorbed his scent and the deep groans issuing from his throat.
She let his fire roar through her. And when the flames began to die, she rolled on top in a sheen of sweat and aroused him all over again.
Zahad reached up and kissed her, completing the circuit. Exquisite sensations arced through Jenny at his thrusting. They rode each other in a white sizzle of electric longing until it blazed to an end. Breathing fast and in counterpoint, they sank into a damp tangle of sheets.
This man, a stranger less than a week ago, now seemed as familiar as her own image in the mirror, Jenny mused as she gazed at him. His scars, his broad shoulders, his angular face filled her days and played through her dreams until she felt she must have known him for years.
She wished they could stretch time. But already the clock on the headboard insistently returned her to reality.
“I have to go back to work.” She sat up, fighting the languor of her body.
“I know.” He traced the swollen tip of her nipple. “I wish I could stay here longer.”
She wasn’t about to dwell on impossible hopes. “We both knew we’d have to say goodbye. I hope you can win your battles at home, Zahad.”
“Perhaps I already have.” He told her about the protests spreading through Yazir.
“I’m pleased for you,” Jenny said. “And I’m glad for your people. It must be marvelous to know they appreciate you.”
“More than I realized.”
She washed up and dressed. As she was leaving, Jenny paused in the bedroom doorway. Zahad lay uncovered except for a sheet thrown over his midsection. When he saw her, his smile lit up the room.
“I’ll see you at dinner.” It seemed inadequate after what had passed between them, but Jenny couldn’t linger.
“I will buy some ice cream for Beth,” he offered.
“She’ll like that.”
Her skin tingled in the cold air as she hurried to her SUV. She felt alive and full of hope, although she wasn’t sure what she hoped for.
It sobered her to remember that last night Ellen had lost her husband. Jenny wished she could find a way to prepare for what life had in store, but she knew better than to ask for the impossible. Who could have predicted the shape events had taken these past ten days, for any of them?
Only the killer.
Yet, as she drove back to town, she discovered that she didn’t feel nearly as afraid as she once had. The discovery that she could love a man more profoundly than she’d ever imagined possible and yet find the strength to face the future without him had somehow armored her.
Since childhood, Jenny had battled the instinct to quail before a man’s anger. After her marriage ended, she’d withdrawn from men as a defense against their attempts to dominate her.
What she’d also been fighting, she saw now, was her need for intimacy and her fear of rejection. The freedom to give love and receive Zahad’s love without strings had liberated her.
Jenny realized her physical safety might be at risk in the days ahead. Yet her old wounds had healed, and she’d heard that scars were stronger than the bare skin they replaced.
She drove back to school and, despite her lack of sleep the night before, finished the day with her head held high.
ALTHOUGH ZAHAD HAD FACED death many times during the war of liberation, at least he had been driven by a single, unified purpose. Preparing to leave that night, he felt torn in two directions. In some ways, leaving was the hardest thing he had ever done.
Together, he and Jenny prepared oven-fried fish for dinner, served with sesame noodles and French bread. Beth helped make a salad. Gleefully, she tossed in handfuls of chocolate chips and coconut.
There was a homespun magic in the way the three of them moved comfortably around each other in the kitchen. At one point, Jenny gave Beth a little hug, and a few minutes later the child repaid the favor to Zahad. He swung her up and, after a mischievous exchange of looks, he and Jenny kissed the little girl on opposite cheeks at the same time. Beth giggled and wiggled until they did it again.
They were becoming a family. How ironic that he had found these two special people in the wrong place and at the wrong time.
During dessert, Dolly stopped by. The stress of the past twenty-four hours had given her eyes a puffed look and her determinedly upbeat tone revealed a frayed edge. Nevertheless, she seemed under control.
After Jenny invited her inside, Dolly closed the door quickly behind her, shutting out a swirl of snowflakes. “Man, it’s getting thick out there and the wind’s nasty. I hear we’re in for a real blizzard.”
“It is moving in more quickly than expected.” Troubled, Zahad checked his watch. Almost six-thirty. “I must leave by seven. Perhaps I should go now.”
“You’re flying out of Crystal Point? The roads won’t fill up in the next half hour, but I wouldn’t wait any longer than that.” Dolly didn’t seem surprised to hear that he was leaving. Word traveled quickly around here, Zahad mused.
“How’s Ellen?” Gesturing to her neighbor to sit down, Jenny offered her one of the ice-cream bars.
Dolly declined with a polite shake of the head. “She’s taking it hard. She blames herself in a way, although I don’t know why. Mostly I think she regrets all the energy she wasted being jealous of Ray without cause.”
Beth, who’d been squirming in her seat, lost patience with the adult chatter. “May I go play?”
“Sure, honey. Go ahead.”
Although he hated to see Beth go, Zahad felt relieved as well. They could talk more freely now.
“Anyway, I came to tell you some news.” Dolly rested her elbows on the dining table. “The police arrested Al Garroway this afternoon.”
“For what?” Jenny asked. Zahad hadn’t had a chance to tell her about his meeting with Detective Rygel, he realized. “You’re not saying he killed Ray!”
“We don’t know yet,” Dolly replied. “He was arrested in conjunction with the carjackings. It seems the perpetrators were paying him a percentage of the take.”
“What was his involvement?” Zahad asked.
“Apparently he tipped off some men he knew from his old job about the easy pickings up here,” Dolly explained. “I guess he figured it was a way to make some money. The idiot even rented them a cabin in his own name.”
“But they robbed Tish!” Jenny said.
“Yes, the idiots. Her own husband was responsible for the men who attacked her, and she’s furious.” Dolly arched her neck to release tension. “She stormed over to my house a little while ago asking if I know a good divorce lawyer. Unfortunately, I don’t.”
“What happened to the carjackers?” Zahad asked.
“According to the radio, the police have surrounded their cabin up near the ski lodge. Parker hasn’t had time to check whether there’s any connection between Al and Ray’s death.”
If Al had put his stolen money in the Crystal Point bank, he might have been afraid Ray would figure it out. But he’d had no obvious motive to kill either Jenny or Fario. “We must assume the killer is still free,” Zahad said.
“Agreed.” Dolly stretched her shoulders. “Which, in a way, brings me to my other reason for coming here.”
“Yes?” Jenny said.
“Ellen got permission to move back into her house tonight. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but she wants to start cleaning and she’d like Cindy to sleep in her own bed.”
“I can understand,” Jenny replied. “I felt the same way.”
“Bill’s being a good sport about my sleeping over with them,” Dolly explained. “He even suggested I invite you two to join us. Beth would keep Cindy distracted and you and I could keep Ellen’s spirits up.”
Zahad nearly seconded the suggestion. What better way to safeguard Jenny and Beth than for them to stay with the other women?
Before he could say so, Jenny spoke. “It’s a good idea but frankly, I’m exhausted, and we’re all under stress. Having us around might make matters worse instead of better. Besides, with all the snow we’re supposed to get, I’d feel more comfortable in my own home.”
Sheikh Surrender Page 20
