Tears filled her eyes as she traced the hieroglyphics with her finger tips and memories of her sister flooded her mind. A relic from ancient times, blessed by priests and sorcerers, a talisman of her sister. So many memories. They had practiced together as adepts, but Djeserit had chosen the path of a sorceress, while she turned her back on the arcane knowledge and chose the life of a common woman, albeit in exile.
Djeserit had enjoyed the old ways and had never used her powers to hurt others. She had a kind and loving heart. If only she hadn’t fallen in love with Bakari al-Sharif. If only she’d stayed true to the path.
Chione opened the envelope and took out the letter:
Dear Mrs. deWolf,
I wanted to meet you and give Djeserit’s wand to you personally, but if you are receiving this letter it means I have died before I could. On your sister’s deathbed she begged me to give it to you and to no one else, to entrust its power to your light.
I don’t pretend to understand these things, but I want Djeserit’s last wishes to be fulfilled.
You must know that she and I have a son, Khalid Badru, who I have just found out about. In an effort to gain his mother’s power, he killed her. I do not believe he intended to. She feared he would become an evil sorcerer and tasked me to do what I could to stop him. I am trying to bring him into my family and do what I can, but he must not get this wand. That was Djeserit’s greatest fear.
I admired your sister. We were friends for many years. She was my confidant and advisor. I miss her.
Sincerely
Bakari al-Sharif
Tears rolled down Chione’s cheeks as she folded the letter. It was all so sad. Had her sister and al-Sharif been born in another time they might have been lovers. Instead they’d each struggled with their feelings and kept them hidden. Now their son was orphaned and out of control. He’d have to be dealt with. She put the letter into the flame of the candle and watched it catch fire. She held it until it singed her finger tips, then she dropped it into onto the table where it burned itself out. The sting of her burns didn’t come close to the searing pain in her heart.
Wiping the tears on her cheeks, she resolved to contact the elders in Egypt. They had been her spiritual circle when she practiced magic, and even though years had passed since she talked with them, they would help her. She couldn’t keep the wand hidden. Its power would draw people and if it fell into the wrong hands it could be misused.
It would have to be protected and a group could do that better than she could. But the world was changing. Few believed in the old ways—the old magic. Destroying it might be a better option. A quiver of awareness spread across her scalp.
Tonight there would be a full moon. She could do it then.
She heard knocking on her door. It had to be her friend this time. She put the ashes of Bakari’s letter into the kitchen sink. “Just a minute,” she called out.
The wand couldn’t be left in plain sight. She took it out of the box and put it in a hidden drawer in her altar at the side of the room. The lock clicked.
Her friend Hilda was twenty minutes late, but that wasn’t unusual. The woman didn’t like to run her life by a clock. It would be fun to share a coffee and chat. For a few minutes she would forget the heavy burden she’d just received. She opened the door wide.
But it wasn’t her friend standing on her threshold.
A lanky, young man with black hair pulled away from his long angular face stood there. Black stubble shadowed his cocoa- colored skin. The intensity of his dark eyes hit her like a bucket of ice water thrown on her face. She swallowed. It was more his expression than any one physical feature, or even her sixth sense, that told her who he was. “Khalid Badru.”
46
Chapter Forty-Six
New York,
One week after Bakari died
“Two men are hunting you. Be careful.” said Mitchell in a text to Sadie. As her plane crossed the Atlantic she tossed the words around in her mind. Why didn’t he say more? For that matter, why the hell didn’t he phone her?
When she stepped from the elevator on her apartment floor she heard barking. Dashing her plan to drop off her stuff at her place, she headed down the hall to her dog-sitter’s door.
As she knocked the puppy’s barks grew louder and more urgent. Was that a growl? His small body worked hard to make big-dog sounds.
It took an eternity for the door to open, which made her wonder what Beatrice was up to. Slip, click… slip, click… slip, click. The locks were released and still the door did not open. Sadie reached for the gun in her purse.
The door opened and there stood her neighbor dressed in another pink, jogging suit with a lipstick-stained cigarette dangling from her lips. The puppy launched himself at Sadie’s legs. She laughed and reached down to pick him up as she entered the apartment.
Turning around to ask Beatrice how she was doing, Sadie took in a short, burly man in a wife-beater shirt standing behind the open door. He pointed a gun at Sadie’s face.
What the hell? His hard eyes, sunk deep into a short forehead, telegraphed a distinct don’t-fuck-with-me message. This man had killed before.
“Beatrice?” Sadie asked.
“Look, cheekbones. I don’t know what shit you’re into, but I don’t want to be a part of it. Take your dog and get outta here.”
“Shit?”
“That Mitchell guy said you was into dangerous business.”
“Oh him. He exaggerates.”
“Nah. You can’t lie to me. I can read people.” She pointed to her head. “There’s something about you that just don’t add up.”
Where should Sadie start? The man hadn’t lowered his gun.
“And those two pricks that came by looking for you? Didn’t like ’em.”
Sadie nodded, trying to understand. Slowly she put the squirmy puppy down on the wooden floor.
The man with the gun walked around her and closed the door.
“Two men were looking for me?” Sadie said.
“Yeah. Strange guys dressed in black. They pushed their way into my apartment and asked a lot of questions. Wanted to know where you were, what you were up to. When I told them about your modeling gig, they just laughed.”
“No one asks Beatrice questions.” The man had a voice. “Evah.”
“I’m sorry,” Sadie began.
Beatrice held up her hand to stop her from saying more. “Don’t bother wasting your wind. Just get out and stay out.”
“I don’t know why the men came here.”
“Are you as lame a dame as you sound, or is this all part of your act?” Beatrice squinted as if that might help her decide.
Sadie blinked.
“Sheesh.” Beatrice waved a hand at her friend to get him to lower his gun.
Casanova ran between them licking and nipping at whatever leg was closest. Sadie bent down to pick him up again and the puppy went wild with slurpy kisses.
“The dog trusts you.” Beatrice sounded confused.
The soft, fluffy, chocolate-brown ball of fur, her very own adorable labradoodle puppy, was all over her with his love. Sadie felt herself smile, despite the extraordinary situation she was in. Beatrice walked closer and stroked the pup.
The man snorted. “Are you going to kick her ass out or will I have to do it?”
Beatrice gave Sadie a hard enough look to knock her teeth out. Their eyes connected and held. Beatrice turned to the guy. “Go take a hike. I’ll talk to her alone.”
“But—?”
“Do as I say or I’ll tell.” She didn’t say a name. Clearly, she didn’t have to. Before she finished her sentence he was up and moving.
“I’ll get cigarettes.” He left.
“Sit down.” Beatrice motioned Sadie to the sofa. “I’ll tell you what happened.”
With Cassy wiggling in her arms and licking her face with a sandpaper tongue, Sadie sat.
“In the middle of the night Cassy started barking. Never saw him so upset. So I got my revo
lver and went out to the living room. Two guys with ski masks were goin’ through my stuff. Tossing it everywhere.” Beatrice walked over to the coffee maker on the kitchen counter and pulled out the carafe.
Sadie nodded, both to the offer of the coffee and to encourage her to tell her more.
Beatrice poured two cups and talked while she walked back to a chair facing Sadie. “I pointed my gun at the first idiot and yelled at him to stop.” They both turned and glared at me like I was holding a wader gun or something.” She shook her head.
The coffee was bitter, but Sadie took a second sip and smiled.
“Anyway, to make a long story short, after I waved my gun around a few times they told me they were lookin’ for you.”
“And you told them?”
“Nothin’. I knew nothin’.” Beatrice’s eyes narrowed.
“Did they leave you alone?”
“I had the gun, remember.”
Not many middle-aged women could hold off two thugs. But Beatrice had a steely edge to her, a toughness you just didn’t want to play with.
“It was really Cassy that saved me. He warned me so that I could get the jump on them. Good dog, that one.”
Sadie stroked his fur. He smelled puppy-fresh. “Did you call the police?”
“Hell no. I don’t like them and I’m guessing you don’t either.”
Sadie had to smile.
“I told the buggers I’d let them go if they told me what they were lookin’ for.” Beatrice shrugged.
Unbelievable! The woman had bartered with them. They were probably assassins.
“They looked at each other, then back at me. They looked ready to jump me. That’s when Vince came in.”
“Vince?”
Beatrice tilted her head. “One of my lovers. I thought he was still asleep, but he’d been listening from the bedroom.”
Sadie fought her eyebrows to stay down. One of…? How many men did Beatrice have?
“Anyway Vince… he’s a rough one, ya know.”
“Is he the guy you just sent out?”
“Nah, that one works for him. My Vincent is seriously, a switch blade carrying guy from the shadows. No one crosses him and lives. And he don’t like people messing with me neither.”
Sadie’s eyebrows shot up. She couldn’t hold them down any longer.
“The two guys froze when they saw him. Probably wet their pants. Vince says to me, ‘You want me to have my men work on them, honey?’”
Now Sadie smiled.
“Nah, I said. I think they’re ready to talk. And they did. Slowly at first, but then Vince got out his blade. They told us you have a map and they want it or they’ll have to kill you. I got the feeling they wanted to do both.”
“A map?”
“That’s what they said. Vince wanted to rough them up to make sure they didn’t return, but I wouldn’t let him. I don’t want no blood in my home. They left.”
“So that other man is protecting you?”
“Yeah Vince insisted he be here, at least until you returned. Now I’ll send him home unless you want him.”
“Uh, no thanks.” Sadie laughed. “Beatrice, you are one hell of a dog-sitter. I don’t know how to thank you.”
Beatrice lifted her hand to stop Sadie from saying more. “Hey, I liked the excitement. Being old can get boring.”
Sadie took another sip of the coffee. “I was in London on a shoot,” she began and proceeded to tell her a long story that had actually happened to her a month ago, complete with ego-centric models, cocaine orgies and a drunken photographer who had a fetish for stilettos. Beatrice nodded politely, but avoided eye contact. When she felt it was time to go, Sadie stood and made her excuses.
Beatrice helped her down the hallway with all the dog stuff. Cassy followed them leaping at their legs.
When they were in Sadie’s apartment, Sadie reached into her purse for money. Beatrice shook her head. “I like your dog, Sadie. I don’t want your money.”
“Look, I’m sorry for all your trouble. I really appreciate your help.” She searched for the right words. “Maybe you would do it again sometime?” There would be no better person to take care of Casanova.
“Sure. But don’t bother bullshitting me again.” With that Beatrice opened the door and left.
Sadie laughed.
***
Later that night she connected with Mitchell by phone.
“What the hell, Mitch?”
“I’m in Singapore on a shoot,” he said. “I didn’t want to say more on my cell. I didn’t think it would be safe.”
And so they talked about Beatrice, the weather and model gossip. The sound of his familiar voice comforted her, almost as much as Cassy’s wet nose on her neck. It felt good to be home.
But there were still loose ends… and a map.
47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Langley
The next day
Sadie’s stilettos clicked as she walked down the long hallway to Jeremiah’s office. Fighting against her usual hate-the-stuffy-office reactions, she held her chin high, greeting everyone she passed with a smile.
Jeremiah nodded as she entered and finished his phone conversation with, “Later.”
Sitting in the leather office chair opposite his desk, she scanned the room for changes, but there were none. The same three computer screens spanned his desk. He wore a boring business suit with an open collared white shirt. His chess set, the one she’d thrown in the garbage six months ago, sat to the left of his keyboard. “Good morning, Jeremiah.”
A slow, thin-lipped smile spread across his perfectly shaved face. “Mornin’ sugar.”
“Got my report?”
His amber eyes blazed with a fiery energy. He didn’t have time for small talk. She shifted her butt in the chair, which seemed more uncomfortable than she remembered. “For the record, I did try to save the scarab.”
Jeremiah chuckled. “The Brits have their knickers in a knot.”
“It’s all in my report. I followed my gut and I was wrong.”
“You brought down one of the most dangerous men in the world. How wrong is that?”
“Sebastian pulled the trigger.”
“Because of you. You have a way of getting men to do things for you.” His tone wasn’t lewd, just matter of fact.
“Friggin’ hell.” The light bulb in her head turned on. “My real mission was to eliminate Bakari al-Sharif, not to bring you back a relic.”
A slow, cynical smile crossed his wizened face. “Sadie, there are many kinds of treasure in this world. The scarab will resurface sometime, I’m sure. But the great Anubis will not. I call that a victory.”
She took a deep breath. “He wasn’t all bad, you know.”
“No one is all-anything, Sadie. But falling for the slime on a snake is not wise.”
She groaned. “Why didn’t you just tell me to take him out? I had lots of opportunity. Why did you play me, as well as him?”
Jeremiah leaned back in his chair. “The higher-ups wanted both the scarab and the man. I’m happy to get the man.”
“You could have used an assassin.”
“Could have. But his security team had already killed two of our best. You, sugar, were the only operative who could get close enough.”
“You know from my psych profile that I’m not a hit woman.”
“Honey, you got the job done. In this business, that’s all that matters.”
The razor sharp edge of his logic could be really annoying. Part of her, the non-emotional part, had to admit he was right. But her heart felt used, like a dirty old dish rag. She chewed her bottom lip.
“Did you sleep with him?”
She winked at Jeremiah. “That’s on a need to know basis.” Although he must have heard the audio-tape.
He gave a strangled laugh and looked away. “Let me update you. Last night, Chasisi al-Sharif was found dead in his bedroom at the family’s Cairo estate. The official cause of death—snake bite. Tha
t leaves only one brother, Hasam, to run the family arms business, and in my opinion he can’t do it alone. Someone will take him out.”
“Did we kill him?”
“Not to my knowledge. Also, the scarab hasn’t surfaced. Rashida is dying. The doctors give her a week to live.”
Snake bite? “Do you have any idea who—”
“None, though I suspect Khalid wanted no opposition to his inheritance. To be honest, I don’t care. One less arms dealer. His empire in ruins. It’s all good.”
“Eboni?”
Jeremiah shrugged.
She leaned back in her chair. Bakari and Chasisi dead. That was a lot to take in. “Have you any more information on the KOTL?”
“Unfortunately not. Keep your eyes open, sugar. Someone wants you dead.”
What else was new? She pushed a long curly tendril of hair away from her face. She could tell him about the men after the map. Nah, she’d leave that for later. “What now?” she said.
“It’s time for you to make a decision,” he said.
She knew what he meant. Did she want to be a spook again? “Only on my terms.”
He chuckled. “Which are?”
“I don’t want you to hold back information again.”
His gaze drifted to the ceiling. “You can’t ask for the impossible.”
“I get it. There’s a reason for the need-to-know policy around here, but it’s stifling at best and outright dangerous at worst. If I’m to sign up again, I want to know all aspects of any mission, before you send me in. None of this risking my life, blind folded. I don’t think that’s asking too much.”
His eyes remained on the ceiling as if an enigmatic message slid along the white paint. “Sometimes I don’t even have all the facts.”
Silence settled in the room slow and steady like an avalanche of sand. The smell of his Earl Grey tea reached her senses. She wanted back in the fold, but she had to get him to understand her position.
Scrunching his mouth as if the milk in his tea had suddenly soured, he sat up and gave her his interrogator’s look again. “I have two choices here. Only two. I can lie to you and say I’ll tell you everything I know at all times. If I didn’t get fired for doing that, I’d be given little information. Or…”
Ancient Danger: Mata Hari Suspense Series #3 Page 20
