Authors: Randy Singer
Tags: #FICTION / Christian / Suspense, #FICTION / Thrillers / Suspense
“I can’t believe Strobel would have issued a subpoena for my appearance already. I’m calling Carson.”
Shelhorse pushed the End Call button on her cell phone and dialed the number for Carson & Associates. She heard the recorded and dreary voice of Bella give her the extensions of the various staff members. Shelhorse pushed the numbers for Brad Carson. His voice mail told her how important her call was to him and asked if she would leave a message.
“Brad, this is Nancy Shelhorse. What in the world is going on with regard to my testimony tomorrow? Call me back on my cell as soon as you get a chance. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll just assume Strobel has issued a subpoena for my appearance, and I’ll lie low as you suggested on Friday and Saturday.”
Shelhorse hung up the phone and shook her head in disgust. “Lawyers,” she mumbled with heartfelt disdain.
* * *
O’Malley’s appointment took him straight back to the offices of Carson & Associates. He parked himself at the receptionist’s desk and patiently monitored the phone numbers that registered on the switchboard every time an outside call came in. He also periodically checked everyone’s e-mail and voice mail.
At 3:38 the phone rang. The receptionist’s screen reflected a Richmond originating number. O’Malley listened intently as he heard Brad Carson’s phone ring on an internal line. The call had been transferred.
He waited a few minutes, then logged on to Brad’s voice mail using the passwords Bella had provided him weeks ago. He listened to the message from Shelhorse, deleted it, and left the offices of Carson & Associates, locking the door behind him.
37
NIKKI MORENO’S WAKE-UP CALL
came bright and early, just a few minutes before noon. She mumbled her thanks to the operator without enthusiasm and slid lower under the sheets. Slowly, room 703 came into focus, and she began to review the challenges of the next twelve hours. She forced herself out of bed, one leg at a time, and shuffled over to the sliding glass door that led to her balcony.
Her head throbbed, and her stomach was in knots. Her mouth was dry as cotton, her nose stuffed up—she basically felt like scum. She looked down at the dresser and cursed last night’s bottle of scotch that was the source of this morning’s pain. She had been lonely and wired last night, unable to sleep. To comfort and calm herself, she had allowed herself a few too many shots from the bottle that had made the transatlantic trip in her garment bag. If her first trip to Saudi Arabia had taught her anything, it was that she would have to bring her own booze to this parched country or go without.
This morning—or was it this afternoon already?—she wished she had gone without.
Nikki took her time showering and primping, as if slow movements would calm her stomach and stop the pounding in her head. Today she would be as inconspicuous as a tattooed Latino could be in Saudi Arabia. She wore no makeup and threw on the hated abayya that Sa’id had given her on the first trip. She could not possibly wear the head covering in the heat, but she would try her best not to be noticed. She would not carry a briefcase. She would not look men in the eye when she talked. In fact, she would avoid talking whenever possible. She would focus on her plan and nothing else.
* * *
At 9 a.m. in Norfolk, Bella hit the panic button.
Shelhorse was nowhere to be found.
She was supposed to meet them in the hallway outside the courtroom at 7:30. But she was late. Experts were always late. That part irritated Bella but did not panic her. But now Shelhorse was beyond late. Something serious was wrong. And Bella was frantic.
Brad had been at it for more than an hour and was running out of cross-examination questions for Strobel’s last witness. While pretending to listen to an answer, he scribbled a note and handed it to Bella.
I can make this last till ten, no more. Go find Shelhorse.
Bella hustled into the hallway and repeated her earlier series of phone calls. She called Shelhorse’s office and left her third urgent message of the morning. She called Shelhorse’s cell phone. Another recording. Another message. No answer at the home phone. No response to the page. Bella was going crazy.
It was now 9:15. Bella stared at the pay phone. Another minute ticked by.
The firm’s voice mail.
Maybe Shelhorse had an accident or some other unexpected occurrence and had left a message. Bella turned in her Day-Timer to the page containing the passwords she had given O’Malley.
She started with her own phone, then Brad’s, and then Leslie’s. She heard plenty of messages, including a sweet one from Leslie to Brad, but nothing pertaining to Shelhorse.
Nikki’s messages, of which there were many, proved far more interesting. Bella listened with sordid amusement to the personal calls from the various men who didn’t seem to know that each other existed. But it was a business call that riveted her attention. She played it back several times and wrote it down word for word.
“Ms. Moreno, this is Chad Hamilton again. We’ve been playing some serious telephone tag lately. And rather than continuing to trade calls, let me just give you the bottom line. One point five million. Take it or leave it.”
Bella raced back into the courtroom. Brad was still methodically questioning the witness and taking increased heat from Ichabod to move his cross-examination along. When Brad saw Bella plop back down in her seat at counsel table, he gave her an expectant look. Bella frowned and shook her head no. Brad returned to his questioning, rehashing some turf he had already covered.
“No message from Dr. Shelhorse anyplace, and she doesn’t answer any of her phones,” Bella whispered to Leslie. “It’s like the woman just dropped off the face of the earth. So I called our office to check voice mail messages. Look at this note. It was a message left on Nikki’s voice mail.”
“Did you go into my voice mail too?” Leslie whispered before looking at the note.
“Just read the note,” Bella said, louder than she intended. Ichabod glared at her. Bella mouthed a silent sorry.
“Don’t you ever go into my voice mail,” Leslie warned.
“Just read the note.”
As Leslie read it, she furrowed her brow. “What do you make of this?” she whispered.
“I thought you might know.”
Leslie didn’t. She gave Bella a blank shrug, then retreated to her thoughts while the witness droned on.
“Here’s what I want you to do,” Leslie whispered at last. “Go back to the office. On the way, call O’Malley and have him meet you there. Keep calling Shelhorse. If you find out anything, buzz my BlackBerry. When you get to the office, you and O’Malley go through everyone’s e-mail and see if that helps. I’m not accusing Nikki of anything, but we’ve got a missing witness and a strange phone message.”
“Okay,” Bella said, frowning. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”
* * *
Nikki arrived late because she couldn’t communicate with the cab driver and he didn’t have the foggiest idea where he was going. Sa’id’s office was not exactly center city with the top-tier firms. Nor was it in an industrial or office park where the second-tier firms were located. Instead, the one-story law office was on an out-of-the-way side street flanked on one side by a small Laundromat and on the other side by a cramped restaurant that also sold groceries in bulk—the Riyadh equivalent of a deli.
Narrow alleys separated the three bland, stucco commercial buildings. All needed repair, Sa’id’s especially. The numbers on his building had long since disappeared, exacerbating the problem for the already confused cab driver.
When Nikki finally arrived at 5:20, Sa’id greeted her warmly at the front door.
* * *
He pulled the nondescript black sedan over and parked a block away from the building. He immediately radioed the others.
“She just entered the lawyer’s office,” he reported. “Can’t tell if she’s armed.”
“You may be getting some more company soon,” came the reply. “Wait there.”
* * *
Once Nikki was inside, Sa’id introduced her to Hanif. Immediately, Nikki noticed his striking resemblance to Rasheed. Sa’id explained that Hanif wanted to ride to the embassy with them to see his brother off. Hanif, all smiles, shook Nikki’s hand with unbridled enthusiasm.
Sa’id shared his building with three other tenants, all with small offices adjoined by a common hallway. Sa’id took Nikki and Hanif to his cramped office to view the videotape Sa’id had made. His prior shoddy work aside, the man had done a good job with this. Hanif split his attention between the tape and the front window of the office, where he separated the blinds with his fingers at eye level to watch for his brother.
On camera Sa’id was passionate and earnest, clearly presenting the case against his own government. Nikki was impressed that a devout Muslim would put his reputation on the line to gain religious and political freedom for a Christian couple he did not even know. Sure, so it wasn’t much of a reputation. But still . . .
Despite Sa’id’s roly-poly build, unkempt and gnarly beard, annoying habits, and awkward attempts at flirtation, Nikki liked the little guy. He seemed to have no God-given talents or graces, that is, aside from a sunny disposition and a huge heart. Even those traits probably weren’t worth the sixteen hundred Saudi riyals per hour he was hauling down. But in the grand scheme of things, he had exceeded her expectations.
Nikki thanked Sa’id for the excellent work on the tape and watched him beam. She then tucked it inside her loathsome abayya and joined Hanif as he kept watch at the window.
* * *
The Berjeins did not arrive until nearly six.
“How could you be so late?” Nikki fumed. “We’re supposed to be at the embassy in ten minutes.”
Sa’id tried to translate Nikki’s tone as well as her words. The Berjeins looked crestfallen.
“We were being followed,” Rasheed said. “We tried to lose them but couldn’t. We think they are still outside.”
This chilling news caused Hanif to dart back to the window for another look. Nikki leaned over his shoulder. A black sedan contained two men, who were both looking at the building. The one nearest the building was slender and evil-looking, with beady, dark eyes and a signature scar that graced his left cheek and disappeared into his beard. The other agent towered over the first and barely fit in the passenger car seat.
The Berjeins had indeed been followed. And the men out front didn’t seem to care if the Berjeins knew.
They stepped away from the window, and everyone but Nikki began speaking in Arabic at once. She tried desperately to think despite the noise and confusion. She could finally stand it no more and simultaneously stamped her foot hard on the floor and screamed.
“Stop! Just shut up for a minute!” All gave her their undivided attention.
“I’ll call the embassy and get the meeting postponed for a half hour,” she said. She waited for Sa’id to translate.
Then she looked at Sa’id. “How far away is your house and in what direction?”
“North of the city. Forty minutes by car.”
“That’ll never work,” she said, then paused. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.”
She looked from one brother to the other and smiled at her good fortune. Rasheed, the older brother, was taller by about two inches, and about ten pounds heavier. But their similarities swallowed their differences. Same athletic builds, same prominent noses, same huge deep-set eyes underlined by large circles. The male genes in the Berjein stock were strong and distinctive.
Nikki tried to imagine Hanif with a haircut and no beard.
She looked at Rasheed, then back to Hanif one more time. “It’s time to use a little misdirection,” she said, “which happens to be my specialty. Sa’id, do you have a pair of scissors and a razor?”
“I have scissors, of course. We could buy a razor next door.”
“Good. Hanif will shave his beard and cut his hair to look as much like Rasheed as possible. They will also change clothes. I am about the same size as Mobara. We will change clothes, and I will wear her abayya and face shawl. Hanif and I will leave the building first, disguised as Rasheed and Mobara, and drive to my hotel. Sa’id, you will leave next, taking a different route, then meet us at the hotel.”
She paused again. More translation. More skeptical looks. She decided to sound more animated, act more enthusiastic. Maybe they would buy it. After all, it was the only plan she had.
“We will both watch our mirrors. Hopefully these men will follow Hanif, Sa’id, and me to the hotel. If my plan doesn’t work and they don’t follow us, then Rasheed and Mobara should stay put until we come back here. Sa’id, is there a rear exit in this place?”
Sa’id nodded.
“Call a cab to pick up Rasheed and Mobara back there. Tell them they should watch and see if the men out front follow us. If they do, tell Rasheed and Mobara to take the back exit and grab the cab to the embassy. Give them the videotape. Have them wait for us there.”
Sa’id translated Nikki’s impromptu plan for the sake of the others. They argued briefly in Arabic.
“They said it will never work,” Sa’id reported.
Nikki threw her hands in the air. “Then tell them to come up with something better,” she snapped.
Two minutes later, Sa’id headed next door to buy a razor.
* * *
Nikki, dressed in Mobara’s abayya, stood and admired the new clean-cut Hanif. She had him stand next to his brother. She looked from one to the other and back again. A smug smile graced her face.
“You’re the spittin’ image of your brother,” she said to Hanif.
He gave her a puzzled look.
“Never mind,” she said and turned to Sa’id.
The little guy looked more excited than ever, his eyes practically glowing with the enthusiasm of the moment. At once, Nikki felt a wave of gratitude for the man and a wave of guilt for putting his life in such danger. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” she found herself saying.
“I know,” he replied, looking more determined than ever. “But I’ve never been a part of something like this before . . . something this important—” he waved his hand in an arch—“people this committed.”
Nikki nodded her thanks and patted him on the side of his arm. “Give Hanif directions to the hotel and ask if he’s ready.”
Sa’id explained the route to Hanif and told Nikki that he was indeed ready. Hanif turned and faced his brother. They blinked back the tears. They both seemed at a loss for words.
After a few beats of respectful silence, the brothers exchanged some solemn sentences in Arabic while the others looked on. Then Hanif gave his older brother a bear hug, and tears welled up in both men’s eyes. They ended their embrace, and Rasheed patted Hanif on the shoulder, nodding his head with pride and looking steadfast into his brother’s glistening eyes.
Without a word, Hanif turned toward Nikki, grabbed her hand, and headed out the front door.
Sa’id followed a step behind.