A Deadly Divide

by Ausma Zehanat Khan

  Alizah shook her head, her eyes deeply shadowed. “I’d never seen it. I didn’t even know what kind of gun it was.” Rachel could see that she was trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together but finding it impossible to do so.

  “This can’t leave the room, Alizah. The gun used in the basement executions turned out to be Youssef’s gun.”

  Alizah took a faltering step back. She came up against Rachel’s hospital bed and sank down in the chair across from it. She bent over her knees and put her head in her hands, speaking to herself.

  “Didn’t anyone read that list?”

  Rachel squatted down on her knees in front of Alizah, wincing as the movement pulled at the bandage at her neck. “What do you know that I don’t?”

  Alizah’s head came up, her green eyes filled with fury. “I gave you the list, Rachel. I put it in your hands myself. You took it to the dean.”

  Instantly Rachel understood. “The campus break-in? The gun was taken from your office along with the electronics you had reported stolen.”

  “That’s where Youssef kept it.”

  But Rachel’s memory was excellent. While the break-in at the office had been reported, the stolen gun was absent from Alizah’s complaint.

  Alizah rubbed at her eyes. “I reported everything except the gun because I didn’t want to get Youssef in trouble.”

  “But all this time you knew the gun was out there? You blamed the Wolf Allegiance for the break-in, but you never thought to tell us they might have Youssef’s gun?”

  But Alizah didn’t need her rebuke. She was already blaming herself.

  “The news only reported that Père Étienne had been found with an assault rifle. They didn’t mention another gun. Neither did you.”

  “But surely to God, if you thought there was a gun in their possession, you should have reported it to us.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “There was so much going on, I didn’t have time to tell you.”

  Rachel was watching Alizah closely. Something didn’t add up. She’d never known Alizah to be anything other than forthright, but something in her face had shut down.

  “Maybe you didn’t think a member of the Allegiance took it. Maybe you had a reason to think someone you knew might have needed that gun. Maybe it was the Lilies of Anjou, as part of their rituals in the forest. Maybe that’s how they knew where the gun was.” She caught the subtle shift of Alizah’s glance. “No? Who, then?”

  But she only had to think of the person Alizah had been inseparable from since Rachel and Esa had arrived in Saint-Isidore.

  Alizah was trying to protect Amadou Duchon.

  Alizah pushed herself out of the chair and sidestepped Rachel.

  “I swear to you, Amadou wasn’t the shooter at the mosque.”

  “He was there that night.”

  “To pray. Youssef was like a brother to him; he tried to save his life.”

  “Amadou had a brother,” Rachel said.

  Alizah’s face was pale, her skin clammy. But she didn’t say anything more.

  A heavy hand knocked on the door. Lemaire stepped into the small room, instantly making it smaller. His gaze slid from Rachel to Alizah.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing!” Alizah’s voice broke. She whirled on her heel and left the room, leaving Lemaire with Rachel.

  He looked her over, his gaze lingering on the bandage at her neck. Frowning a little, he said, “Should you be up and about?”

  “I’m headed back to work.”

  The silence between them built until Rachel finally cleared her throat and spoke. “Listen, Christian, I’m sorry. Things happened so fast that I didn’t have a chance to think them through.”

  He put up a hand, cutting short her apology. “I may have been a bit hard on you. Gaffney told me he was the one who misdirected you.” He shook his head. “What you must have been thinking in the van.”

  She dropped her gaze, both embarrassed and contrite. “I am sorry. It just … made a lot of sense. There’s a leak at the top somewhere. No one else came to mind.”

  He scratched the back of his head, his blue eyes fixed on her face. “You were thinking like a cop. That’s what you’re supposed to do. I’m not saying it didn’t sting—but I’m guessing it hurt you more.”

  Rachel’s insides tightened. Suddenly it became imperative that she not stick around to hear the rest. She searched anxiously for her purse. Lemaire’s gaze followed hers. He got to it first and dangled it by the strap. Rachel stayed where she was, an ache making itself felt inside her chest.

  Grimly, she raised her chin and looked him dead in the eye.

  “Don’t beat around the bush, Lemaire. Say what’s on your mind.”

  A slow smile of appreciation broke across his face.

  “You’ve got guts; I’ll give you that.”

  His amusement faded and he took a step closer to her, looking down into her face.

  “You thought this wasn’t real. You thought I was using it to keep you from finding out the truth.” His expression softened. “You’ve known some shitty men, haven’t you, Rachel?”

  She shrugged, pretending indifference, though her heart was beating loudly enough to make her think he could hear it.

  Lemaire closed the distance between them and kissed her, cupping her head in his giant hand. When he let her go and took a step back, Rachel’s eyes were closed. The pounding was now in her ears.

  “So what do you think?” he said easily, waiting on her answer.

  She opened her eyes. Her breath puffed out on a gasp.

  It would be so easy to take the coward’s way out. She’d done it with Nate in Greece. She’d known Lemaire for just over a week. It should be easier this time.

  Except it wasn’t.

  She’d believed the worst about him and he was standing right here, that teasing smile in his eyes. Giving her another chance, if she was brave enough to take it.

  “You Francophones talk about your feelings a lot. I prefer actions to words.”

  His grin widened. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then show me.”

  Rachel took him at his word.

  67

  Esa caught Alizah by the arm as she stumbled from Rachel’s room.

  “What is it? Why are you crying?”

  She rubbed the back of her hand across her face. “I’m not.”

  She tried to shake off his hand; he tightened his grip. He’d insisted that she and Amadou accompany him to the hospital. Lemaire had assigned Philippe Benoit to watch over them. He’d just come on shift and was waiting for Alizah nearby.

  “What did Rachel say to upset you?”

  She angled her body away from his, signaling Amadou, who was waiting at the end of the hallway. “I have to go.”

  Esa caught hold of her other arm and pulled her around to face him. The messenger bag she was wearing slid across her back.

  “Not until you tell me what’s happened.”

  She struggled to free herself, but she didn’t call Amadou for help.

  “Let go of me, Esa, please.”

  He didn’t.

  “Alizah—”

  Angry tears formed in her eyes. She stopped fighting him, letting him hold her by the arms, shaken by the way his grip had changed to something gentle and protective.

  A silence held. Finally, she said, “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you touching me when you know—” She couldn’t make herself finish.

  He let go of her arms at once, and a pained smile came to her lips.

  “That’s what I mean,” she said softly. “You’re not in this, you have Sehr—but you can’t seem to leave me alone.”

  She saw his regret, his immediate understanding, and it struck her like another kind of pain. To bury her confession, she said, “Rachel told me about the gun.”

  Now he was watching her differently. Trying to assess her reaction.

  “Youssef had it for protection. He kept it on campus at
our office. That’s where the break-in was. I didn’t think it was relevant because I didn’t know you were looking for a gun.”

  His green eyes narrowed to slits. He didn’t believe her. Or at least he didn’t believe she’d given him the whole truth. And she wondered how he’d learned to so easily read her secrets.

  Very softly, he said, “You had to know that any missing firearm would be relevant to us.”

  She shrugged, rubbing her arms where he’d held her.

  He followed her action, frowning. “Did I hurt you?”

  A blush stained her cheeks, heightening her discomfort.

  “No.” She tugged her sleeves down over her wrists. “It’s nothing.”

  Because she couldn’t tell him the truth.

  I wanted to touch the place you touched me.

  The only way to get herself out of this was to answer his question. Or … at least part of it.

  “I was upset because Rachel thought I knew who’d taken the gun. I didn’t.” Her mind working quickly, she added, “If I had something on Max, I wouldn’t keep it to myself.”

  But he was too clever for her, and she saw him glance past her to Amadou, waiting at the end of the hall. He must have guessed the reason she hadn’t asked Amadou to join them.

  “Did you think Amadou had taken the gun? Just as a precaution?”

  She couldn’t answer this—how could she? She wanted Esa’s trust but not if it came at Amadou’s expense. She veiled her eyes.

  “May I go now?”

  He ignored that. “We’ve flagged your name in several online discussions about the shooting. Including Wolf Allegiance threads about Amadou’s brother, Bilal. You may have been worried about Amadou’s safety. If he was the one who stole Youssef’s gun, that might have seemed reasonable to you.”

  Conflicted, she stared up at him. Hoping he would give her a little more. When he didn’t, she whispered, “Amadou wouldn’t have vandalized our offices. Not even as a smoke screen.”

  Esa’s eyes stayed on hers.

  “Who discovered the break-in?”

  She didn’t know if it was a trap, but she answered honestly. “Amadou did. Then he called me.”

  “He might have taken the gun after he discovered the damage.”

  She tugged at her sleeves again, a nervous, betraying gesture.

  Struggling to find the right words, she came up with, “You’ve seen what’s happened here—you know what happened to you.” Her eyes traced the bruise on his forehead. “I’m not saying he did, but wouldn’t it make sense that if Amadou took the gun, he took it for his own protection?”

  The look on Esa’s face was one she recognized. He’d looked at her that way once—in Waverley. On the day she’d finally learned who had killed Miraj.

  It was the limitless sympathy one would extend to a child.

  Quietly, he said, “A gun has other uses, Alizah. Youssef’s was used at the mosque.”

  Her heart shriveled up at the words.

  “Amadou didn’t do it. You’re supposed to protect us from this—how could you think he’s guilty of killing one of our closest friends?”

  She waved to Amadou, shifting away from Esa. But Esa swung her back around. This time he made no apology for his touch.

  “Where are you going?” His tone warned her not to put him off.

  “To the radio station. We still have a show to do.”

  “I thought your program airs in the morning. You shouldn’t be out this late.”

  Alizah swallowed at the look in his eyes. He thought she was lying again.

  “Pascal is doing a special broadcast. The dean managed to get us equal time. Maybe to make up for not taking action on my earlier reports.”

  “How long is the broadcast?”

  “We’ll be done by midnight.”

  “You’re already a target. Why do you want to provoke whoever has you in their sights?”

  She glared at him, furious. The messenger bag on her shoulder flipped forward. He read the slogan she had printed out and taped across its flap.

  #JournalismIsNotACrime

  Quietly intense, she muttered, “It’s not a provocation, either. I’m standing up for us. I thought you’d want me to.”

  “Dammit, Alizah, I’m telling you not to do this.”

  His grip was so tight now that it was hurting her, but Alizah didn’t care. She welcomed the harshness of the contact. She relished the power she had to get under his skin like this. Her sense of triumph reached him and he flushed, a dark color rising in his face.

  Her instincts at war, she said, “Well, I don’t answer to you. Unless you’re hoping to change that.”

  His brief laugh mocked them both. “Even if I did, you wouldn’t listen to me, so don’t hold it up as incentive.”

  Alizah blinked at this. “Would it be incentive?”

  “Don’t twist what I’m saying. I want you to go straight home.”

  A sudden bleak acceptance descended on her thoughts. He was right. She had been willing to twist it. She’d seen what she wanted to see, when all she had really shared with him was her love for Miraj. Not once had he indicated otherwise. Not once had he crossed that line. That look on his face in the church—it didn’t mean Esa was hers or that he wanted to be. All she had to do was look at him with Sehr to know the truth. A staggering pain swamped her senses. But she would never let him see it.

  She forced herself to speak. “I’ll go home after we’ve done the broadcast.”

  He put up a hand to the bruise at his temple and rubbed the area around it. He glanced at Constable Benoit, who was wisely pretending not to listen.

  “Keep a close eye on her. On both of them.” He gestured at Amadou. “Make sure you see them safely home.” Benoit nodded. Esa turned back to Alizah. “Don’t say anything to rile up Thibault. We didn’t track him down in the raid, which is why you need to be careful.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to reassure him. She was angry in a way she knew he didn’t deserve. None of this was his fault. But she needed a reason to blame him.

  He didn’t let go when she tried to tug herself free. He waited for her to face him.

  When she did, he said calmly, “I know you’re angry at me. But I also hope you know I’m trying to keep you alive.”

  For a moment, her eyes were locked on his. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—speak.

  Resigned to her stubbornness, he let go of her hands with an angrily muttered curse.

  Alizah wished he hadn’t. She wished he were holding her, still.

  Until he said with conviction, “I wish to God I’d never met you.”

  68

  Rachel and Khattak met up in the hallway.

  “Got a call from Gaff,” she told him. “He says he’s come across something in the online chatter we should take a look at.”

  Khattak looked tired to his bones, so she added, “I can take care of it, if you want to get some rest. Sehr’s already at the hotel, probably a good idea for you to check on her.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?” He rubbed a hand across his eyes, making her glad she’d made the offer.

  “Lemaire’s heading to the station.” She glanced around. “What happened to the kids?”

  “They went back to campus to do a live broadcast. Constable Benoit is with them.”

  She whistled under her breath. “Not a great idea, sir.”

  He met her gaze with perfect understanding. “Alizah doesn’t listen to me.”

  His anger sounded personal. Bitter. To cheer him up, she said, “Benoit is pretty diligent. Plus, he wants to impress you. I’m sure they’ll be okay. But I’ll check in from the station.”

  “I’d be grateful if you did. I won’t be away long.”

  “Take until the morning, sir. You look beat.”

  He gave her that smile that never failed to disarm her. Appreciative and a bit amazed.

  “You’re the one who was shot. You should be taking a break.”

  Rachel’s shrug was un
forced. Trying not to make too much of things, she said, “That was more of a bee sting. Besides, I like working with Lemaire.”

  Lemaire was waiting for her at the exit, pointing impatiently at his watch.

  Grinning now, Khattak said, “I’m fairly certain Lemaire enjoys it more. Let him go ahead. I can drop you at the station and we can catch up on the way.”

  She nodded, striding off to let Lemaire know.

  By the time Khattak had brought the car around, she’d organized her thoughts about the case. She slid into the car, checking her purse for snacks. She found a Coffee Crisp and a fig bar. Khattak accepted the latter, which left Rachel with the chocolate fix she’d craved.

  “Knock yourself out,” Khattak said as the crumbs from her chocolate bar flew everywhere. “For once, I don’t care about the car.”

  Mumbling through a mouthful of chocolate, she teased, “That’s only because this isn’t your BMW.” Making quick work of her snack, she summarized the case for him.

  “I’m thinking what’s most relevant here is what we learned from Dr. Sandston. We’re looking at at least two profiles and, from what I’ve seen, two separate cases. Your kidnapping and assault are one. The attack on the mosque is the other.”

  “And there are the leaks. I find them confusing. They’re tied to the investigation, but the messages are specific to me. Either someone’s following me or they’ve bugged our offices.”

  Rachel dabbed at her lips with a tissue. Wafer crumbs fell into her lap.

  “Probably both, sir. But like we talked about earlier, the text messages to you fit a different profile—the profile of a stalker. The leaks to the press and to the Wolf Allegiance are coming from a separate source. Someone higher up like Lemaire.”

  Khattak glanced at her briefly. “Not Superintendent Killiam?”

  Rachel considered the possibility. “Maybe. But there’s a gap between events and when I’m able to update her, though I’ve made a few calls. Our leak is moving in real time.”

  They pulled up in front of the station. She stayed in the car; there was plenty more to say.

  “We need to consider a personal motive that’s not related to you. Like Dr. Sandston said—maybe the shooting had a target. It could have been gang related, and therefore about Amadou. It could have been directed at the father with his little son—Abubekr, I think his name was. Or at Youssef Soufiane and his mother. Or this could be a case of neo-Nazis run amok. The Wolf Allegiance has popped up everywhere except at the scene of the shooting.”