Mosir looked up from a machine as she burst in.
“Where have you been?” He looked relieved rather than angry.
“Watching the contest. I didn’t hear your texts. I’m so sorry.”
“The cameras are all down. At first we thought it was the AC, but that doesn’t seem to be the cause. And it’s not the breakers. They’ve been tested.”
“Let me investigate.” She rolled up her sleeves and headed for the equipment racks. She pulled out a circuit board and frowned. “Mice. They’ve chewed through the wires. This whole row is infested. And look, they’ve traveled up this air duct into the ceiling.”
She could see stains on the ceiling and for the first time the smell of mouse urine stung her nostrils. How could they not have noticed this before?
“Surely the previous mechanic checked the machines periodically. How could this happen? It must have taken months to get like this.”
Unless…
“Did you know him well? Could he have introduced mice…like, hundreds of them…into the systems before he left?”
Mosir blinked. “How do we get rid of them?”
“Poison is one way but it might be slow. Cats won’t fit up there. Maybe snakes? My grandpa had a pet snake who lived in his feed barn. He fed it all kinds of delicacies to keep it there. Said it kept the critters out from places too small for a cat to reach.”
He blinked, shuddered, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m from Dubai. I’ve never even seen a wild mouse before. Can I put you in charge of this if I find the right snakes?”
“Sure thing. And is the AC back up again?”
“We’re working on it. It seems there are bees building hives inside the compressors.”
She frowned. This was a bizarre, all-natural kind of sabotage. Hard to pin on anyone. Brilliant, in a way. “And you have someone to capture the bees?”
“The palace gardener is doing it right now. He might know where to find snakes. I’ll have him call you.”
“Great.” Hopefully they wouldn’t be poisonous snakes. “And what about the bomb? Do we know how they detonated it?”
“I don’t know anything about the bomb. All I know is we didn’t capture any of the activity leading up to it on video. But I’m not going to worry about my job or any repercussions, I’m going to focus on getting the equipment functional again, and I hope you will do the same.”
“Of course.” Her chest swelled. She appreciated loyalty in others and was pledged to it herself. “You can count on me without a doubt. I’ll start cleaning up and replacing wires and I’ll see what I can do about the mice.”
She could hear them now, scurrying in the walls, roused by the disturbance. Before this they were probably only active at night when there was no one to hear. “And I think you should investigate the mechanic who left. I suspect that he’s behind this.”
“They’ve been looking for him. He’s disappeared.”
“Thank heaven no one suffered serious injuries.” Amahd watched staff members sweep the remaining dust from the explosion off the floor. One staff member had been cleaning the room when the blast knocked him off his feet, but he’d soon recovered with only bruises and a sprained wrist. The bomb was a small electronically activated device apparently intended to startle rather than injure. “But our enemy is laughing at us inside our own stronghold.”
“We knew this was a risk we took when we invited our neighbors,” said Osman. “But all of them seem as shocked and dismayed as we are.”
“They would, though, wouldn’t they,” said Zadir, with a lifted brow. “To avert suspicion.”
“Our enemy wants us to know he’s here, and dangerous, but still keep his identity hidden.” Sam shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“Perhaps it’s not one of the rulers.” Ronnie looked from one brother to the next. “What do you know about all the people traveling with them?”
Gibran had sat silent and somber, blaming himself for the security breach. “We’re doing our best to run background checks on each one. So far nothing compelling has turned up.”
“We won’t skulk and hide in our own palace. Bring it on,” said Osman, eyes flashing. “Let’s flush them out in the open. Did you find any evidence of who laid the bomb?”
“There was a partial fingerprint on a fragment of the bomb casing. We’re running it against known databases, which in this region are rather lacking. I know you’re probably not going to be enthusiastic about fingerprinting all your guests, but that would be the safest scenario.”
“I say we do it. Don’t let anyone leave. Fingerprint everyone in the palace, even our staff.” Amahd stood, emotion rushing through him. “If they refuse, that automatically makes them a suspect. Mosir suspects that the video and air-conditioning equipment was sabotaged by a former maintenance worker who introduced vermin into our systems. Who knows how many other criminals, spies and potential murderers are here among us, folding our sheets and preparing our food.”
“I agree,” said Ronnie. “While I support not torturing prisoners, if we’re too nice and use kid gloves with everyone, we may never get to the bottom of this.”
“All right. Let’s go ahead with the fingerprinting starting tomorrow before the games commence. And keep careful track of who has and hasn’t been checked. We don’t want the culprit slipping through our fingers.”
“I’m surprised none of them has tried to leave,” said Sam.
Osman blew out. “They don’t want to be seen as cowards.”
“Nor do I.” Sam bit her lip. “But I wonder if we should cancel the children’s party planned for tomorrow afternoon.”
“What kind of creep would hurt kids?” Zadir looked shocked.
“People have died. We’re dealing with a murderer here,” said Amahd. “On the other hand, I know how much Aliyah’s kids are looking forward to it. They’ve talked of little else for a week. Are we going to let criminals ruin their fun?”
“We can protect the kids,” said Gibran. “We’ll host the party on the contest ground and search everyone who enters the area. We’ll have sniffer dogs—the kids will like them. I’ll be damned if I’ll let some bastard spoil their party.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Osman. “I agree. And our security systems are up and running again, so it’s not likely that someone can sneak more explosives anywhere.”
“Unless they already did,” said Ronnie quietly.
“Perish the thought,” muttered Sam. “Hey, did anyone invite Mac’s daughter to the party?”
“Mac the mechanic?” Zadir looked intrigued. “She has a daughter?”
“Yes, a little girl,” said Sam. “About the same age as Aliyah’s kids. It would be fun for them to meet.” She looked at Amahd.
Who pretended to study something important on his phone.
“Amahd, did you know she had a daughter?”
“Of course,” he said gruffly. “She’s my employee. Mosir told me she figured out that mice had damaged the security equipment.” The red-haired mechanic taking up so much space in his brain was proving to be a valuable asset as well as a worrisome distraction.
Her daughter had been a complete surprise to him, but there was no reason for them to know that. “Sure, invite her. Why not?”
He didn’t want anyone to suspect he had a reason to care, one way or the other.
Which he didn’t. Now he knew Mackenzie had a daughter he resolved to stay far away from her. No good could come from trifling with the affections of a loving mother, and since he had no intention of marrying Mackenzie, that was exactly what he’d be doing if he didn’t get his inappropriate feelings for her under control.
Luckily, given the large palace staff, Mac did not have to handle the snakes herself. Convincing snakes to crawl into a strange interior space made herding cats look easy, but the teen boys who’d brought them from a nearby village seemed to enjoy the challenge. When the time came to go pick up Maddy, she left them under the supervision of an elderly pa
lace employee named Malira, who was already scolding them like a grandmother while feeding them handmade treats.
The explosion had given the contest an air of solemnity—of importance even, as if the countries had come together to forge bonds against an oppressor. Mac could see it in how the men and women from different countries took pains to greet and reassure each other, when only a day ago they’d been looking warily down their aristocratic noses at them.
She and Maddy had finished their dinner and were cutting out paper dolls they’d just drawn when a knock sounded on her front door.
Her heart stopped. Surely not…
If Amahd came to visit and court her when he knew that she had a child, that would be quite something. She climbed gingerly up from the table.
“Who is it, Mama?”
“I have no idea, honey. I guess I’d better open the door and find out.” She walked toward the door. A tall shadow was visible through the frosted glass pane that ran down the center. She hesitated. There were enemies in their midst. Maybe the prior mechanic hadn’t run off after sabotaging the equipment. Maybe he’d been taken hostage…or killed.
“Answer it, Mama!” Maddy wriggled impatiently in her chair. She was probably hoping for another guest bearing pretty flowers.
“Who’s there?” she called.
“Delivery from the palace.” Not Amahd’s voice. Stronger accent.
She frowned. Was Amahd sending flowers via proxy? That didn’t seem like his style. He was too careful.
She turned to Maddy. “Go into your bedroom, sweetie.”
“But why!” A wail. “I want to see.”
“Just for a moment, okay.” She tried to look stern. The shadow behind the door shifted from foot to foot.
Maddy sighed heavily and walked as slowly as possible across the floor, her fluffy dressing gown trailing behind her. When she reached her doorway she turned and stared.
Mac unlatched the door and pulled it open a crack. No flowers. A tall young man with a rectangular envelope.
“What is it?” She peered at the creamy paper.
He simply offered it to her. Probably didn’t speak enough English to explain.
Frowning, she opened it. A formal engraved invitation, like the kind in a Jane Austen story. To a kid’s party. Who did that?
Royalty, that’s who. And the event was tomorrow.
“I’m not sure if we can come.” She’d have to rush home and pick up Maddy, then change and rush back. Not to mention that there had been an explosion at the palace today. Was it wise to bring her daughter there?
“The party is for all the children. Their majesties wish for you and your daughter to attend. They personally guarantee your safety.” The young man spoke formally.
“A party! I love parties,” interjected Maddy from her doorway. “Let’s go.”
Did she even have the option to say no to her employer? Probably not. This job was turning out to have all kinds of weird “perks” that she wasn’t sure she liked. “I suppose we could go.” Judging from the other festivities she’d seen, it was likely to be spectacular. “Okay. Tell them we’ll come.”
Listen to her! Reluctantly agreeing to attend a royal party. Her life had taken a lot of strange turns lately. And what was she going to wear?
“One moment please.” The solemn messenger turned and went down the steps, then returned with a large finely woven box. “For you.”
She hesitated. Was this guy really from the palace or was this some kind of a trap?
“What’s in it?” She peered at the mysterious box.
He removed the lid to reveal gold tissue paper, which he lifted to show embroidered silk fabric. “Dresses for you and your daughter.”
“What?” Maddy rushed forward. “I want to see!”
“Hang on, honey.” She smiled apologetically to the man, and took the box. “How thoughtful. Please send my thanks.”
No matter what was in this box she’d probably have to wear it. Hopefully it wasn’t a belly dancer outfit. Though that was unlikely given the fairly modest local attire. As she closed the door she wondered if Amahd had chosen the costume for her.
Or if he even knew she was coming to the party.
This might be some scheme by the other wives that he had no part in.
“Maddy, let me tell you, being a grown-up can be very confusing.” She put the box on their dining table next to the paper dolls and pulled out a long, shimmering tunic—turquoise with silver and pink accents. Definitely grown-up size, which meant it was for her. She was going to look like a Christmas tree in this.
Maddy’s dress was even more colorful, with a matching scarf and pants with jingling bells around the ankles. She put it on and twirled around their apartment tinkling and laughing. “I feel like a princess, Mommy.”
“You look like one.” She felt the silky fabric of her dress. She was not born to wear something like this. An embroidered western shirt and some blinged out cowgirl boots, maybe, but this?
There were also delicate earrings, rings and bracelets in a tiny embroidered pouch.
She let out a long sigh. None of this was in her job description. She was supposed to be welding pipe, not wearing sequins.
And the worst part was that she was already looking forward to it.
“I must be losing my mind.” She looked at Maddy, who was still grinning and dancing around. “I should call your grandma. She’d soon talk me back down to reality.”
But she didn’t really need to. Reality was bound to grab her by the ankles sooner or later.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mac’s next day at work passed quickly, with the staff on high alert for more trouble. There were whispers that Gibran had a suspect, but no one seemed to know for sure—or if they did, they weren’t talking. She barely saw any of the riding, since keeping the security equipment running was now a far higher priority than checking the timers for the events.
She glimpsed Amahd a few times out of the corner of her eye, but he made no effort to approach her. He didn’t even seem aware of her presence. She tried to convince herself that this was just fine. Better, even. She could do her job without distractions.
She wasn’t involved in the setup for the party, but she could see trucks and equipment arriving throughout the afternoon. She wasn’t surprised to see a bouncy house or even an ice cream stand, but the carousel and mini roller coaster made her blink. Maddy was bound to enjoy this.
And she’d just have to keep a smile on her face no matter what happened—or didn’t happen.
Mac and Maddy arrived a little later than the other guests—most of whom were already staying at the palace—because she had to go home, pick Maddy up, and change into their sparkling finery.
She felt agonizingly self-conscious as they stepped out of her car and walked toward the festivities. Music bounced off the ancient walls off the palace and she could hear joyful shrieks as an entertainer led the children in a game. Her feet felt strange in tooled gold sandals—she was used to a cowboy boot heel and these were completely flat. She probably should have painted her toenails, which rarely saw the light of day, but she didn’t even own any nail polish. She’d worn her hair down, because it was having a reasonably good hair day and that seemed to match the cheery outfit better. Now she wondered if she shouldn’t have tied it back like usual.
“Hi, Maddy!” Sam waved as they approached. “Come meet Parsia and Nasri.”
Aliyah introduced her adorable daughters and the three little girls exchanged shy smiles. Sam showed them how to make simple birds out of folded paper, and she and Ronnie chatted easily with Mac about typical kid stuff like their favorite stories and games. Mac actually started to relax, since Sam and Ronnie were hardly going to ask her any awkward questions in front of the girls.
Eventually Sam ushered Maddy, Nasri and Parsia off to play something that looked like musical chairs but with tiny embroidered rugs, and Zadir whisked Ronnie away to meet someone.
Without Maddy to fuss over, Ma
c felt at a loose end. She could hardly go ride the merry-go-round by herself. She recognized a couple of other staff members, but knew they didn’t speak English well enough for easy conversation. She walked—as inconspicuously as possible, she hoped—over to a nearby refreshment table and accepted a glass of something that looked like lemonade.
“Mackenzie.” A familiar deep voice made her start and almost spill her lemonade on her fancy costume.
“Hello Amahd.” She managed to sound almost normal, though of course her body temperature spiked and her heart started racing.
“Madison looks like she’s enjoying herself.”
“Yes.” She watched Maddy running around with the other children, her colorful party clothes flying. “It was sweet of you to invite her.”
The startled look in his eyes told her she’d said the wrong thing. Amahd didn’t invite them. Probably a conspiracy between Sam, Ronnie and Aliyah.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry the contest has pulled you away from your work.”
“This is all very exciting, but it makes greasing fittings and inventorying a supply closet seem relaxing and meditative by comparison.” She wasn’t kidding. All this excitement was fun but exhausting.
“I’m looking forward to getting back in the field myself. The horses are holding up well and we’ve only had one injury. Resala pulled a tendon yesterday afternoon. The grooms iced it and she’ll be on stall rest for a while, but she’s handling it well.”
Mac didn’t remember which of their stunning Arabian horses Resala was, but thought it was sweet that Amahd cared so much about her condition when he had a stable full of them. “I’m glad to hear it. Horse injuries are always scary. I remember one time when Star fell during a barrel racing contest and threw her shoulder out. I blamed myself and couldn’t sleep for a week. Luckily she healed just fine and one of the judges turned out to be a top chiropractor who came out to our place to help put everything back where it was supposed to be. She didn’t even charge me. She said she could tell how much I cared about her.”
Amahd’s eyes darkened and his expression grew thoughtful. “Was she papered? Did you know who her dam and sire are?”
Desert Kings Boxed Set: The Complete Series Books 1-6 Page 73
