“She’s seen exiting, alone. Then she walks off-screen and that’s the last we have.”
“And the restaurant?”
“They don’t have any security cameras.”
“Right.” Xander let out a puff. She had simply vanished. Their only clue was the messages on Emma’s phone. “Have forensics been able to find out if Giovanni’s phone was hacked?”
“They tried to find any unusual IP addresses, but everything appeared normal. If Giovanni’s phone really had been compromised, the hacker would have to be very good. An excellent coder knows how to cover their tracks.”
Xander shoved his hands into his pockets. His right hand wrapped around the velvety box he couldn’t bring himself to remove. His heart clenched, threatening to tear in two.
They passed by another hotel, the shade from the front door’s overhang providing a moment of relief from the sun. A figure leaned against the shadowed wall, arms crossed over his white linen shirt.
With his long khaki pants and sunglasses, the man looked like any other tourist. But Xander would recognize him anywhere. His gut twisted and he cursed under his breath, keeping his eyes straight ahead as they walked past.
He’s not going to leave me alone, is he? Watching his every move, like this was some sort of spectator sport. Not even an offer to help. He could feel the man’s gaze following them, anchoring on his back as he and Elmahdy continued down the sidewalk. Xander’s hands curled into fists as they walked the final block to the lab.
The man had to know what was going on. He had endless resources. If anyone could find Leila, it was him. But Xander resisted the urge to turn around. Asking for his help would have to be his last resort. It would only complicate things.
When he and Elmahdy reached the lab, the door banged open and someone ran out, her black curls flying behind her.
“Oh Xander, I’m so sorry,” Emma cried, wrapping him into a crushing embrace.
Xander swallowed, his throat tight, and patted the top of her head.
“It’s all my fault.” Emma sniffed. “I should have gone to her as soon as I knew something was wrong. I should have called the police right away. I should have—”
Elmahdy cleared his throat. “Why don’t we step inside?”
Emma released Xander and, wiping a red, puffy eye, led the way into the lab. Xander already knew every inch of the place, although it had been two years since he worked there.
Walking down the hall toward Soliman’s office stirred something inside him, itching to put the law enforcement life behind him and pick up a trowel again. If only it could be that easy.
The three of them stopped outside Soliman’s office, where Emma knocked on the door.
“Come in, come in,” Soliman said, rising from his seat behind the desk.
They filed inside and Emma plopped into one of the arm chairs by the desk. Elmahdy lowered himself into a folding chair nestled between two stacks of books. Xander settled his back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Thank you for coming to meet us, Miss Giovanni,” Elmahdy started. “I realize you two are already acquainted?”
Emma and Xander both nodded and Elmahdy leaned forward, his features engraved with purpose.
“Mr. Harrison has already been informed of your previous statements. Do you have anything new to add?”
Emma let out a long, noisy sigh and leaned back in her seat. “Nope. Nothing. She just disappeared.” She went on, repeating everything Xander had already heard, almost word for word, her eyes downcast as she wrung her hands in front of her.
Soon, her words faded out, and Xander lost himself in his own thoughts. That man outside couldn’t be a coincidence. Of all the places in the world to cross each others’ paths.
He was being watched. A wave of cold slowly enveloped him and sweat began to trickle down his temples. His stomach twisted as a new concept entered his mind. Could it have been them? No, that was ridiculous.
“I wish I had handled it differently,” Emma choked as she finished her recount of events.
Xander stared at Emma, trying to refocus. Maybe he was on to something.
“I knew she was in danger.” Emma wiped at her cheek. “I just didn’t think… at the time.”
Xander pushed himself away from the wall and left the office. None of this was getting him anywhere. Leila was slipping through his fingers with every passing moment.
“Harrison?” Elmahdy called out.
Xander’s footsteps echoed as he jogged back down the hallway. Was this all just a test? His chest lightened. This newfound fear brought hope. Hope that he could find out who was behind this. Hope that she was unharmed.
Xander raced down the sidewalk, his heart pounding. He would beat it out of the guy if he had to, if that was what it would take to get information. The hotel came into sight and Xander slowed to a stop. He turned in all directions, glancing up and down the street. The man was gone.
CHAPTER 9
Leila shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle. Her feet dragged through the sand. One step forward. And then another. Her rigid back tensed against the cold and her shoulders ached, begging for warmth.
How long had she been walking? Hours probably. She’d dragged herself out of her shelter and started moving as soon as the sun dropped and the temperature cooled.
But now a huge glass of water would be great. Her lips burned from the cracks that had broken open and bled. Her tongue felt huge, dry, and rough like sandpaper. It stuck to the roof of her mouth, aching for a drop of liquid. Any liquid. Her throat cramped as if it was swelling shut. Dry swallowing only made it worse. Without anything to drink, she wouldn’t last another day in these conditions.
She forced her feet to keep moving, trying not to think about how thirsty she was. One step toward the sea. One step closer to Xander. She swallowed against the sting in her throat. Where was he? He would be in Cairo by now. So close. He must be worried sick.
Longing for the sound of his voice, she sucked in a rattling breath. This was what the assassin had intended. The woman didn’t shoot her because Faris wanted her to suffer. He didn’t want to give her an easy way out by putting a bullet through her head.
She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to let the threatening tears escape. She couldn’t waste her fluids and energy. Plus, she was probably so dehydrated that she couldn’t cry if she tried.
