While she and the others worked on the sift pile, the rest of the team made some decent progress on the trench. By mid-morning, it revealed the outlines of a wall. The wall didn’t show any sign of an entrance, so the digging continued along the structure to find the corners.
Leila’s dusty hands ached from holding the heavy wooden screen all morning. She rubbed one palm with a thumb as Mariam excused herself to bring them some more water bottles.
Neal stopped shaking his screen, his head turned toward the others digging in the pit. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and had opened the first several buttons at the top. His hair dripped as if he had dunked his head into a camel’s water basin. A painful-looking sunburn reddened his nose and cheeks. Leila wasn’t sure the desert agreed with him. He was getting the hang of the sifters, though.
“How’s your head?” he asked, turning to her.
She picked a few round stones from the top of the sifter and dropped them into the reject bucket with a loud thud.
“It’s fine,” she said, hoping that was the last time she would be asked about it. So far, she had kept it to herself that she’d been nearly choked to death. She intended to include it in the police report, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. It made her nauseous just thinking about it.
“So.” Neal lowered his voice, giving Leila a sideways glance. “Was anything stolen?”
“Well, all of Emma’s camera equipment was there. One lens was broken, though.” Leila debated whether she should tell him about her Bible. A part of her didn’t want to make a big deal out of such a small thing. To everybody else, anyway. To her it was important. For whatever reason, Neal seemed eager to help, so maybe there was no harm in letting him know.
“Actually, something was missing,” she continued, rolling a stone between her fingers. “I couldn’t find the Bible my dad gave me years ago.”
Neal raised an eyebrow. “A Bible?” He regarded the trench in contemplation, though she was sure he wasn’t thinking about digging. Finally, he went on, “Other than the fact your father gave it to you, was there anything special about it?”
“No, it just has some notes in it. I don’t know why anyone would steal a Bible.”
“That is ironic.”
“Maybe they need it more than I do.” Leila shrugged, though a fresh pang of disappointment squeezed her heart. She’d probably never get it back. She was simply going to have to forget about it.
“Be sure to include that in the police report. I called the police station yesterday, and they said to file by paper, so I’ll run down there this evening and get the paperwork for you. I have some other questions for them, anyway.”
“Thanks for that.”
The conversation stopped when Neal left to fetch more dirt.
Relieved to have a moment alone, Leila dropped the stone into the discard pile and threw a glance at the trench. Xander sat in the dirt, his back against the dirt wall, a bottle of water covered in condensation in his hand. His sunglasses hung on the neck of his white T-shirt, which provided a stark contrast against his bronzed skin. He certainly took to the sun better than Neal. She immediately dismissed that thought.
From his odd reaction to the picture, to the fact he had been first at the scene, suspicion of Xander had taken root in her mind. Had it been his arm wrapped around her neck, squeezing mercilessly until she couldn’t breathe, mere seconds before life would have gone out of her?
She swallowed down the rising anger. Why? Why would he nearly kill her just to steal her Bible? There was only one way to prove his guilt, even if she couldn’t figure out a motivation. If she was lucky, she would have her first chance that night.
• • •
Emma, completely unaware of Leila’s plan, talked the others into going into town for dinner. Leila casually insisted on staying home. No one disputed her claim of having a headache. In reality, she had overheard Xander mention he would be working in the lab but would join them when he was done. Since he didn’t have a roommate, his room would be empty. A perfect opportunity.
Pleased that it would work out easily, Leila sat in her room and tried to read. The building had become quiet, but it was impossible to concentrate. She made herself wait, in case someone had forgotten something and came back. Unable to concentrate, Leila gave up on reading. To pass some more time, she googled the bobby pin method of unlocking doors.
Years ago, her cousin had learned to do it in Boy Scouts and had shown her once, but she had never actually tried it. She tested the instructions on her antique-like door handle. It worked after her second try.
After an hour with no more comings and goings, Leila was certain she would be able to conduct her hasty search undisturbed.
This is it. Heart thudding like a camel race, she slipped out of her room and headed for the stairs, armed with bobby pins. She stopped every time she thought she heard a noise as she crept her way up the steps. Every sound made her heart stop. Somewhere in the building, a faucet dripped. A refrigerator gurgled downstairs.
When a brief glance around the corner showed the coast was clear, she tip-toed down the hall until she reached the door to Xander’s room. Her hand rested on the knob for a moment as she listened for movement.
Nothing but silence. Perfect. She slowly twisted her wrist, the knob turning easily. Unlocked. She stopped and listened again. He wasn’t home, was he? She never saw him come in. No, he must have forgotten to lock the door. When no sounds came from behind the door, she took a deep breath and eased it open a crack. Then she peeked inside. Empty.
She nudged the door all the way open and sidled into the room. In awe, she glanced around. Everything was perfectly organized. The bed was so tightly made, she could have bounced a quarter off it. His desk was clear of clutter. The only sign of life was the leather jacket that hung behind the door. If she left anything out of place, he would definitely notice.
Her heartbeat picked up its pace as she approached his desk and scanned the few items placed on top. Papers were neatly stacked on one end, and a small cup held a variety of pens and pencils. On the other side of the desk stood a picture frame with a photo of a young boy and a girl.
She picked up the frame and studied the faces. The boy was obviously a young Xander, who grinned from ear to ear. The girl had rich, coffee-brown hair like Xander and held one arm over his shoulder. The girl squinted, her mouth wide open with laughter. Part of the background was a slightly blurred boardwalk and blue ocean. A candid moment he must hold fondly in memory.
With a sigh, she set the picture frame back down, and the wave of guilt was washed away by a flicker of panic. What angle had the frame been? She pushed it back and forth a few times before deciding it must have been slightly turned toward the desk chair, so he could easily see the picture with a simple glance to his right. Satisfied, she opened one drawer, which only held scissors, rulers, and various writing utensils. In the drawer underneath was a filing system with a few papers sorted into the folders.
With nothing else to see at the desk, she scanned the room again. Her gaze settled on the closet, and she rolled her eyes at her own idiocy. If he had stolen something, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave it lying in the open. She slinked over to the closet and opened the doors. The vertical set of drawers caught her attention, yet they were only filled with socks, white T-shirts, and underwear.
Well, now I know he folds his boxers.
Suppressing a snort, she quietly shut the closet and whirled around to survey the room, pondering what to do next. As she studied the bed, her gaze fell on an object on the nightstand. Her breath caught in her throat. How did she not see it before? Her Bible sat right on top.
Heart racing, she sprang over to the nightstand and picked up the book, overturning a bottle of sleeping tablets that had been placed next to it.
He did it. He stole her Bible. And nearly choked her to death. She brushed her fingers along the familiar brown leather front of the book, feeling the scratches blemishing the hide. It smelled of a mixture of leather and old books. She hugged it to her chest and closed her eyes, savoring the moment. She thought she’d lost it forever. That a part of her father had vanished, taking another bit of her memory of him along with it. Now what was she going to do about—
“Well, this is a surprise,” came Xander’s voice from the doorway.
Leila spun around. Xander leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. Great steaming pile of camel dung.
His hair was damp, and a towel was draped over his shoulders. Her mouth dropped open. Too shocked to speak, she clutched the book against her chest.
“I wasn’t expecting any visitors tonight.”
