Of course they would take a supply of food and water, but a nagging voice deep within told her that her luck would run out eventually. But naturally the siblings both had much more experience navigating the desert than she did. Amina seemed to know what she was doing, and how to get what she wanted.
“And what if Abdullah doesn’t show up to take us the rest of the way?”
“He will,” Amina said firmly.
At least the woman had faith in her brother. That must say something about him. Maybe, despite it all, he was the reliable type. Just with a different way of showing it. Leila forced a smile. What was she getting herself into?
CHAPTER 18
The apartment building was quiet, which was expected at this time of day. No one would know that he was here, in Leila’s living room. After her death, it was time to take his plan one step further. Rub salt in the wound.
Even though the neighbors weren’t home, he took slow, soft steps away from the window he had entered through, crowbar still in hand. The floorboards creaked as he crossed the living room.
He wandered through the flat, taking his time to look at framed pictures on the bookshelf, tracing the subjects’ faces with a latexed finger.
Curious, he read through her notes on the desk and went through the drawers. Then he wandered into the bedroom and put his hands on his hips.
The perfect spot had to be somewhere. He’d brought a little surprise for Xander—the photos Drake had sent him of Leila’s corpse.
Despite the flooding light from the flash, her skin looked gray, bruised. Blood splattered over her face and shirt, pooling in the sand beneath her body sprawled on the ground in an unnatural pose.
She’d struggled, that much was clear. She’d felt fear and pain. And Xander would know it when he saw the pictures as well.
His gaze fixed on the dresser. Aside from another picture frame and an empty mug, it was clear. He could set up his presentation there.
He took a step forward and, somewhere inside the apartment, a phone began to ring. With a jolt, he looked up. The phone rang again. It was probably only a salesman. He resumed his task, ignoring the rings as they screamed throughout the house. Finally, they stopped with a loud beep.
“It’s me,” the voice crackled in and out over the speaker. A voice he recognized. A voice that shouldn’t be speaking. His body went cold and, still clutching the crowbar, he rushed to the desk.
“Xander—or whoever is listening—I just wanted to let you know I’m okay,” Leila went on. His heart pounded in his ears.
“I’m not sure where I am exactly… somewhere in the Eastern Desert. But that’s okay, because, believe it or not, I’ve been picked up by some Bedouin and we’re heading for Saint Catherine. It will take me a few days to get there but I think I’m in good hands. I’ll call again as soon as—” The answering machine beeped loudly, not allowing Leila to finish her message.
He pulled out his phone and, pressing his lips together, dialed Drake’s number, then put the phone to his ear. Only a recording answered in Arabic, then in English, with general information that the number had been disconnected. His fist tightened around his phone. With a jerk of his arm, he moved to throw it into the wall but stopped himself. He lowered his hand. She fooled him. The assassin knew Leila was still alive. Drake had taken his money and spared the girl. Oh, if only he could get his hands on her. She was going to pay for this.
In one violent motion, he picked up the answering machine and hit the delete button. Breathing heavily in and out, his hands shaking, he slammed the machine back onto the desk.
It wasn’t likely he could find Drake. With all the cash he’d given her, she would be long gone by now. But he could find Leila. She was in the desert, off on some trek with newfound friends. How sweet.
He had no doubt he could find her now. And when he did, he would finish the job.
CHAPTER 19
The aluminium pot hanging from Leila’s borrowed crossbody bag thumped against her side with each step. She cringed at the hollow clang that echoed between the tents. Amina marched ahead of her, her steps quick despite her limp. Any second, Leila expected Abdullah to pop out of the sand and scream at them to abort the mission.
She still couldn’t believe she was really doing this, leaving before the crack of dawn to ride a camel across the desert with a stranger to take refuge in a monastery. If someone had told her a few weeks ago that this was in her future, she would have laughed. But in the here and now, it made all the sense in the world.
The pungent scent of camels reached her before she could see them. Spending several days perched on top of one was not going to be easy on her senses. As much as it reminded her of farm life in Indiana, barnyard smells were not her favorite.
But thoughts of Xander’s face at the end of the journey reminded her she could temporarily put up with the stench. She shined her flashlight between the knobbly legs, long necks, and towering humps.
“Your ride is over here,” Amina said softly, leading her toward one of the animals. “This is Fatma. She’s a bit slow, but has an even gait.”
Leila thanked her and approached the dromedary. Fatma ignored her. Just as well. Leila found the saddle nearby and, standing on a stool, heaved it over the hump. Once it was in place, she examined the saddle straps, determining which one went where, then drew them together at the camel’s side and fastened the buckle. Her hands brushed against the coarse wool coat, its oily surface covered with a fine layer of dust that left a greasy residue on her fingers.
Ready to go, she glanced over her shoulder at Amina, who had already finished prepping her camel.
An unearthly screech came from somewhere behind them and they both froze.
Holding her breath, Leila glanced around. Silence had fallen over the camp, until a bell clanged lazily among the sleepy tents.
Amina sighed. “It was only a goat.”
Leila shuddered at the tingling sensation on her arms. “Creepy,” she muttered, turning back to her camel.
“We should hurry,” Amina hissed. “I used herbs in Abdullah’s dinner to get him to sleep soundly. I don’t expect him to wake until it’s light, but they don’t always work that long.”
With a new sense of urgency, they stuffed the rest of their things into bags and hung them from the saddles. Leila gave Amina a boost to mount her camel, then returned to Fatma and climbed onto the saddle. Fatma grunted and groaned beneath her. How did people spend weeks, sometimes months, or even years on end on top of one of these beasts?
Clicking her tongue, she gave the reins a light flick and the camel lurched forward. She yelped and grabbed the saddle to steady herself. Although the sand was soft, it was still a long way to the ground.
Her chest tightened as the dark outlines of tents grew smaller, the vast desert wide open before them. At least this time she was prepared. They had food, water, and material for small tents in addition to rope, herbs, bandages, head coverings—plenty to survive three days in the desert. She shouldn’t worry so much. Amina knew what she was doing.
Ahead of her, the sand dunes rose as a scalloped edge on the horizon. The dark blue sky faded into shades of pinks and oranges as the sun began its ascent.
They were silent as they rode along side by side, the only sound the camels’ hooves crunching in the sand and rocks. An occasional groan emanated deep inside Fatma’s chest, vibrating throughout her entire body.
“Is she okay?” Leila asked, giving Fatma a hearty pat on the shoulder.
