Inez coaxed the girls outside while Jade kept an eye on Ahmad, swinging the wrist irons in a way that suggested she’d like to strike him with them. “Jade, there’s an old woman in here,” said Inez. “What do we do about her?”
“Leave the hag in there with these two. They deserve each other.”
While Inez shushed the young women, who huddled about her like chicks around a protective hen, Jade and Sam prodded the two slave dealers into the little storage room and drew the bolt across the door.
“That won’t hold them for long,” said Sam. “They’ll be pounding on the doors as soon as we leave.”
“Let them. By the way, Sam, thanks again for your timely rescue.” She touched his arm, then his chin as though she needed tangible proof that he really stood before her. “My stars! I can’t believe you’re here. How did you know where to look? How did you find Mother? What—?”
Sam hushed the last question with one finger on her lips. Jade felt giddy and light-headed, a sensation she might have attributed in large part to fatigue and hunger, except it increased when he drew nearer. Her pulse quickened.
He took her hands in his and came closer still, his dark eyes gazing into hers. Sam leaned in to kiss her, saw Inez standing off to his left still occupied with the girls, and quickly pulled Jade off to the opposite room. “Best make sure there are no more slaves in this room, as well,” he called over his shoulder.
No sooner had he drawn her around the corner than he enveloped Jade in his arms and pulled her close. His lips found hers, his pencil-thin mustache brushing her upper lip, cheek, and neck as his mouth explored and caressed every available exposed inch.
Jade, still relatively breathless from her rough handling by Ahmad, found his gentle but urgent kisses equally disarming. Only this time, still caught up in the surprise of seeing him, her reaction was to surrender. She responded to his caresses by clinging to him and letting her senses take over. His scent of soap, sweat, and leather smelled like an intoxicating perfume to her, one that made her breath come in short, panting gasps. Her skin noted the tickle of his mustache, the scrape of his chin and cheek stubble. She felt his body heat and the warmth of his breath. Her ears concentrated on the gravelly bass murmurs, and all this rushed in to fill the void left behind when release replaced fear.
Her heart pounded faster just as it did during her fight and her skin grew flushed and warm. Her pores opened to release the heat and carry away her own musky scent. Every hair stood alert to receive a caress, each nerve alive, and, for a moment, everything dissolved from around her except for his scent, touch, and her own heartbeat.
Then a stray sound intruded, her mother’s querulous voice calling for her to help with the girls.
“Um, Sam,” she managed in between his kisses.
He nibbled at her neck. “What?”
“Sam, my mother is out there.”
“Very nice lady.” His lips strayed to her earlobe.
“She’s calling. She’ll be in here any moment.”
Sam released her and stepped back, his face tight with passion, his movements conveying self-restraint. “Sorry,” he said, a bit sheepish. “I’m just so damned happy to see you alive.”
With her mother nearby, Jade’s usual reserve took over and she widened the space between them. “That makes two of us. I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up in time.” She patted down her errant hair, more out of nervousness than from concern for her appearance.
Sam grinned. “Yes, that guard might have ended up in a very bad way if I hadn’t stopped you.”
Jade chuckled and discovered that it hurt to laugh. “Presumably you are the aid Dunbury mentioned in my telegram. ” She took his arm and walked with him back into the courtyard. Her mother arched one brow and inspected them both from across the room. Jade’s free hand instinctively went to her uppermost shirt button to see if it was still fastened. It wasn’t. Her fingers fumbled with the button. “I must admit you were the last person I expected to see, Sam. The last I heard, you were back on Marsabit, filming the elephants.”
“That’s right,” he said, slowing his pace to extend his time alone with Jade. “Stayed about two weeks and made a dandy film. Then I headed for Mombasa and caught the first boat that eventually took me back to the States.”
Jade stopped and turned to him. “You went back through Nairobi and didn’t say good-bye?” Hurt and disappointment seeped into her voice.
“Well, to be honest, after our last meeting, I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me again. I sort of made a promise to myself that when I came back, and I had every intention of coming back,” he added, “it was going to be as a whole man and not some pinioned bird.” He patted his right leg, the one that was wooden from the knee down.
Jade knew about his prosthetic leg, a fact she had discovered when they were chained together in the desert last January. But she didn’t know what he meant by this promise to himself. She looked up into his eyes, as dark as ebony shadows and filled with their own secrets. “I don’t understand.”
Sam grinned, his white teeth flashing in what could only be described as an ornery, cat-and-canary grin. “Wait till you see her. My Jenny is the prettiest thing you ever laid eyes on.”
Jade knew that his “Jenny” referred to the pilots’ beloved Curtis JN4-D2 plane in which many American pilots had trained. “Your plane?” she gasped in an excited breath.
Sam nodded, as happy as a kid with his first bicycle. “You bet. My friends in Indiana, the Bert Boys, fixed me up.” Seeing Jade’s confused look he explained, “That’s what I call them. One is Robert and his twin brother is Gilbert. They got the rudder pedals rigged up for hand controls, and I sold the elephant movie to an outfit in California for enough money to make the payment. I own her free and clear.” He paused and his dark eyes twinkled. “I own you, too, now. Bought and paid for.”
Jade made a soft scoffing snort and folded her arms across her chest. “And just where did you happen to get the money, Mister?”
“Um, your mother had this bag of coins and . . .”
“So if anyone owns me, it’s Mother. Come on, Sam, she’s waiting, and it’s never a good idea to keep Mother waiting.”
Jade and Sam joined Inez, Bachir, and the covey of animated young ladies. Jade made the formal introduction of Sam to her mother, and Sam explained how he had managed to come to the rescue.
“After I got my plane, I wanted to head back to Africa and show it off to, er, the Thompsons,” he said, referring to the coffee-farming couple that he and Jade knew. He cast a sheepish glance at Inez, who studied him with the intensity of someone who wasn’t the least bit fooled by his pretenses.
“Madeline Thompson is the one who wrote that adventure book, Stalking Death, based on me, Mother,” explained Jade.
Inez nodded. “Ah yes, the one I had to read to find out what you’ve really been doing in Africa.” She smiled at Sam. “Please continue your story, Mr. Featherstone.”
“Yes, ma’am. I put my plane on a freighter and headed to London first to show the Dunburys. By the way, Beverly is doing fine with her impending motherhood. Anyway, I was on the point of leaving for Mombasa when Avery got your telegram, Jade. We took the plane off, and I flew to France and on to Spain.”
“You flew? How did you manage fuel?”
“Avery took care of all that. He’s got a lot of pull. He arranged for a shipment of gas to go out of France to Casablanca. It was all in place by the time I took off from Spain.”
“What about your return trip?”
“Some soldiers are supposed to bring gas down here to Marrakech in their next convoy of supplies.” He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a sheet of fine paper, now slightly crumpled. He unfolded it and tried to smooth out the creases. “Before I forget, I have another message from Avery. Seems he’s been busy investigating Mrs. Worthy and found some information you might find interesting.” He offered the paper to Jade.
She snatched it f
rom his hand, her entire focus on Avery’s letter. She read silently, poring over each word. When she stopped, her eyes held a distant look, as though trying to see beyond time and place.
“What does it say, Jade?” prompted her mother.
“Oh, sorry, Mother, Sam. Not much really. I’ll read it to you.”Dear Jade,
Beverly and I have been hoping and praying that you have already found your mother alive and well. I know Sam will do everything in his power to help you. I won’t stop there, either. I have few connections with the consulate in Tangier, but I’m using what I have to expedite a thorough search and investigation. I’ve uncovered a bit of Lilith’s past. Her maiden name, which was no secret, was Clowes. Her father held an estate in the north country, most of it going to her older brother, Hampton, who by all appearances is a regular sort of chap, albeit a bit of a recluse. Her father prompted her into marrying Gil Worthy, so Bev and I have our doubts that it was ever a love match. No surprise there, either, considering the outcome. But what I did uncover by way of enduring a tediously boring weekend hosting some couples from Lilith’s home turf is that Lilith had a lover before her wedding.
My sources aren’t sure. I had them a bit tipsy by then, but they think his name was Mathers Pellyn. It’s a Cornish surname but I don’t know that he came from there directly. By all accounts he was a roguish sort involved in several shady enterprises that no one can seem to recall specifically. A bit of a rake, too, so I don’t wonder that Lilith’s father disapproved. With a little more prompting, and a lot more of my best scotch, we learned that Lilith continued the affair long into her engagement and marriage. It ended only when Pellyn found it in his best interest to leave the country before a few gentlemen claimed his hide. What I find most interesting is that he left England about a year before Gil went looking for David’s half brother. My sources weren’t 100 percent certain, but they understood that the man had gone to Africa and settled in Mombasa.
Beverly sends her love, and says she cannot wait for the baby to come so she can take the little tyke home to Africa. She expects both you and Sam here for the christening sometime in September.
Avery
Inez spoke first. “I don’t understand the significance of this news, Jade.” She looked to Sam to see if he did.
“It appears Avery found the woman’s initial connection in Africa,” said Sam.
Jade nodded. “We always wondered how an upper-class lady in London would have been able to hire anyone to kill her husband a continent away. Chances are Lilith didn’t stop corresponding with this Pellyn once he left England, and Avery says the man was involved in questionable activities.”
“Cornwall has seen a lot of smuggling in the past,” said Sam. “And if he was Cornish—”
“Right,” continued Jade. “Chances are he started new operations in Mombasa. That’s probably how Lilith became involved in smuggling.”
“That is an amazing story,” said Inez. “I am gratified to know that my daughter has such devoted friends as the Dunburys and Mr. Featherstone to help you.” She cast a quick glance at Jade and added, “You certainly need them.” She turned her attention to her daughter. “However did you manage to end up in a slave auction?”
“Mother,” exclaimed Jade, “I might ask how you managed to get kidnapped to begin with, so please do not cast stones.”
Sam laughed. “Like mother, like daughter. I guess apples don’t fall too far from the tree.” Both women glared at him. Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.
“But how did all of you meet up and then find me at the slave sale?” asked Jade.
“We met Mr. Featherstone near the southern palm gardens. He was protecting his plane from the crowds.”
“And after Bachir told everyone the plane was cursed, I took one look at your mother and figured out who she was. We weren’t sure where to look for you, but Bachir heard the locals jabbering about an unusual woman going up for sale,” said Sam. “One who had to be carried in wrapped in a carpet. We figured it could only be you and ran over as fast as we could. I was prepared to shoot the auctioneer, but your mother had another idea.”
Inez, who now had two women clinging to her hands and three others busily examining her dirty dress, took the cue and explained further. “I had the Roman coins you’d found in that pouch. Mr. Featherstone’s plan, while certainly effective, seemed more likely to bring one of you to bodily harm.”
“Please tell me you didn’t give all the coins to that horrid man,” said Jade. “We need some for evidence.”
Inez patted her pocket, and Jade heard several coins clink together. “Only two. The rest are here.”
Jade breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“We would have gone higher,” said Sam, “but it was beginning to look like the man might pay just to get you off his hands.” No one laughed, and Sam looked from one woman to the other, his brows upturned in confusion. “But it’s all over now, right? Everyone is safe?”
Jade shook her head. “It’s not over, Sam. Mother and I are being framed for a murder we didn’t commit. I know who’s behind it now and I intend to get proof before they escape.” She gently swatted away one of the girls, who was now examining Jade’s trousers. “We need to do something with these girls first. I feel like I’m back in the dormitory in London. Mother, would you be so kind as to escort your chickens to the French authorities? Bachir can show you the way.”
“And leave you to get in trouble again? No.” She tried to fold her arms across her chest, only to be stopped in midgesture by one of the girls, who’d begun a serious study of her left sleeve. “Bachir can escort these ladies on his own.”
Bachir, who had stayed in the background because he didn’t understand the English conversation, did get the gist of this recent topic. He spoke up for the first time, demanding to be let in on the plans. “I remind you, Allala Jade, that you have promised your help to my village. We do not have the amulet yet.”
Jade’s shoulders drooped as she felt his mild chastisement. She took her promises seriously. This one just had a hard time competing with the need to clear her own and her mother’s name. “You are right, Bachir. I’m sorry. Forgive me. But I hadn’t forgotten. In fact, I have uncovered some news. Mohan stole the amulet to keep his daughter from becoming the kahina. He wants her to be a proper Muslim girl and marry into a rich household. I think he plans to sell the charm to the man who took me prisoner.”
“Mohan would also like to be sheik,” Bachir said. “May the son of a dung raker be given fever without perspiration to cool him. He is not worthy of Yamna or the little girl.”
“You haven’t told us who took you prisoner, Jade,” said Inez, ignoring Bachir’s colorful curse.
“Your proper Mr. Bennington, Mother. And he’s in partnership with your charming boat companion, Lilith Worthy.”
Inez’s left hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. Since one of the girls still had hold of her sleeve at the time, the frayed fabric ripped. The girls let go of Inez and clustered around the fabric instead, examining their new prize. “You cannot be serious, Jade. Mr. Bennington is a perfect gentleman. It’s true we never saw him often, he was so devoted to his aunt. He’s . . .”
“A low-down, cheating, drug-dealing, murderous, son of a one-eyed rattlesnake,” said Jade.
“You forgot ‘no-good’ and ‘lying,’ ” added Sam. “Maybe he’s really that Mathers Pellyn.”
“But his aunt . . .” protested Inez.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the aunt isn’t Lilith herself, along to oversee operations, then clear out of Morocco to some safe harbor,” said Jade. “Avery said she’d left London.”
Bachir held up his hand for them to stop and waited for Jade to repeat the conversation in French. So that Sam could also follow, she explained how they knew both Bennington and de Portillo, the other part of the smuggling ring. Jade also described what she’d learned from the leather worker, Wahab Taboor.
“Surely you have enough evidence no
w to go to the French officials, Jade,” said Sam. “You have names, the location of that house where you were prisoner. I’m a witness to their attempts to sell you off.”
“But outside of the coins, I have nothing tangible. Just my word, and right now that doesn’t count for much. I’m not even sure owning those Roman coins would be a crime. It would help a lot if we had another one of those pouches with the hashish.” Jade stopped as she remembered the attempt to steal Mrs. Tremaine’s pouch. “Libby Tremaine has one of those pouches.”
“Are you saying Libby Tremaine is one of the smugglers, too?” asked Inez.
Jade shook her head. “At first I thought so, but not anymore. I think the delivery man, Fahd, must have kept one back to sell for his troubles, not knowing what was hidden inside. But Bennington must have found out Libby purchased it. It would explain why someone tried very hard to steal it from her. For all I know, they succeeded. I didn’t wait around to find out.”
Bachir, arms folded in frustration because the conversation had again switched to English, demanded information. “These new foreigners,” he said after Jade finished, “they would probably not stay in the Medina if they are visitors. They would have rooms in Gueliz.”
“Of course,” said Jade. “So we take the girls to Gueliz, and Mother can hand them over to the authorities while I look for the Tremaines.” As she finished, she noticed that the assorted young ladies had now discovered Jade’s boots, which her mother had brought from the saddlebag. One of them put the left one on and a second was talking excitedly about the other.
“My boots! Mother, thank you.”
Jade claimed the boots, much to the chagrin of the little creatures. But when she looked for the dagger, she found the sheath empty. She turned abruptly to the girls, her right hand outstretched. “My knife,” she said in Arabic. They only looked at her with huge eyes, puzzled. Thinking they didn’t understand, she made stabbing motions with her hand. The girls’ eyes widened even farther and one began to cower.
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