Only one more day.
He slipped a hand into his pocket, and his fingers wrapped around a tiny box. His thumb rubbed across the velvet surface and he went over his plans one more time in blissful anticipation. He had reserved a felucca boat for tomorrow evening, with nothing but the stars overhead. A boat that would be lit with fairy lights and had a musician on board who strummed an oud as they drifted down the Nile.
They’d enjoy some of their favorite dishes—mahshi, a meal consisting of vegetables stuffed with a hearty filling. For dessert, he’d requested the cream-filled cake, kanafeh. After eating, when they were in sight of the Great Pyramids, glowing in their golden lights, he’d get down on one knee and—no. Never mind.
Now that he thought about it, the whole thing sounded rather ridiculous and clichéd. Every other tourist probably popped the question on one of those feluccas. Maybe it was a good thing he missed his flight. He wouldn’t make a fool of himself proposing like some kind of unimaginative imbecile. There had to be some other way to make it a meaningful, unforgettable moment. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his fingers released the box. It could wait a few more days, until he had thought of something else.
To occupy himself during the rest of the ride home, he picked up his phone again and scrolled through the list of missed calls. Leila would probably ring once she got his message.
Soliman? Xander furrowed his brow when the name popped up on his screen. Not the name he was looking for, but curious nevertheless. He called his voicemail to see if the professor had left him a message, only to be serenaded by ramblings from his boss.
Without listening to them, Xander deleted the messages. “Sorry, old bloke. I’m on holiday.”
No wonder my promotion application was rejected.
He jabbed Soliman’s name and rapped his fingers on the arm rest while it rang.
“Xander,” came Soliman’s urgent voice from the other side. “Thank you so much for calling me back.”
Xander swallowed, ignoring the nagging thought that Leila was up to no good. Again.
“Of course. How are things in sunny Cairo?”
“Well, I’m not sure how to explain this.” Soliman let out a sigh, which crackled over the speakers. Xander could picture him in his office, surrounded by books and notepads as he paced back and forth, his hair unkempt and spectacles resting atop his head. Yet there was something in his voice that hinted this call wasn’t about archaeology.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with Leila, would it?” Xander asked hesitantly, his stomach already doing flips.
“Unfortunately… yes.”
No. No, no, no. A wave of cold hit him hard and fast, freezing him in place. He squeezed his eyes shut and cleared his throat before asking the obvious questions. “What is it? She’s okay?”
“I—I don’t know. She’s been missing since last night.”
Xander’s stomach dropped.
“The police are on it, but so far they’ve found nothing.”
He took in a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. His hand came to rest at the back of his head, as if it was the only thing holding him upright. It did nothing to calm down his racing pulse or stop his shaky voice. A million questions hurtled through his mind as he tried to decide what to ask first.
“Are there any ideas of what happened?”
“She left the lab about an hour before I did. A window got broken, so I stayed to clean that up. Her flat was orderly when the police checked. It doesn’t appear anyone had broken in or that there was a struggle. She simply vanished.”
“She’d told me she was meeting up with Emma Giovanni last night. Has anyone talked to her?”
“Yes, she’s the one who raised the alarm. Leila was nervous about something. Emma told her to come to her place. But she never did.”
Xander’s heart thundered. This couldn’t be happening. Everything seemed so normal last night.
“And has anyone spoken to Faris yet?”
“Faris? Not that I’m aware of.”
“Seems like the logical place to start.”
“The police will investigate every angle. I’m glad you’ll be here soon so you can talk to them yourself.”
Xander’s blood thawed and grew hot at the thought of Faris pulling strings from his prison cell. Faris had attempted stunts like this before. There was no doubt he’d do it a second time.
I’m going to kill him. The thought whirled through Xander’s mind. He clenched his hands into fists.
“She’s not dead,” Xander said decidedly. It was an optimistic thought, but it was the only thing to keep him from punching out the window.
“No. She can’t be. We’ll find her.”
“My flight to Cairo leaves tomorrow. I’ll see you when I get in.” Xander ended the call. He held his phone to his forehead for a moment, his eyes closed and chin down, swallowing back the painful lump that had formed in his throat. A sudden weight pressed against his chest. Never had silence been so suffocating. He couldn’t sit around in London while Leila was out there, possibly fighting for her life.
He shook the disturbing thought out of his mind. Proactive. He needed to be proactive. Keep moving. Keep working. Find her before it was too late. Going home for a nap wasn’t an option. Going back to the airport wouldn’t help, either. Not when there weren’t any other flights available. His mind made up, he lifted his head and glanced into the rear view mirror. His reflection stared back at him. Pale with beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow’s flight. He had to get to Cairo now. And he knew just the person who might be able to help.
“Could we reroute to Westminster? Grosvener Square, to be precise.”
The taxi driver glanced over his shoulder at him with a nod. “Certainly.”
Xander let out a sigh and sat back, then dialed a number at their new destination, the U.S. embassy. Mark Coleman, his sister’s husband, was an FBI agent from a wealthy family. He was a charitable chap.
Xander didn’t wait for Mark to say hello once the phone picked up.
“Hi, Mark. I have a small problem. Could you do me a huge favor?”
