Fever (18 page)

*

It was midafternoon when Zak and the crew stopped work for the day. There had been no word from Sara or Joey, and she was getting concerned. Ben stopped several times and looked toward the ridge, as if wishing would bring them back sooner. He apologized over and over for letting them leave without knowing their destination and possible return time. His repeated contrition gave Zak an uncomfortable feeling of foreboding.

Since Joey wasn’t back with the van, Zak talked the crew into staying for dinner, after which she would drive them all home. But her phone rang just as she stepped from a cold shower. “Yeah.”

“Zak?”

“Yeah.” She recognized one of her contacts from Nairobi Police Headquarters.

“Jeshi just logged in Ms. Sara Ambrosini and a driver named Joey for possession of a handgun. They haven’t been allowed a phone call yet.”

“Thanks, I’m on my way. If anything changes, let me know.”

Zak briefed Ben on the new plan as she threw a change of clothes in her rucksack for Sara. “I’ll drop the men off in Talek with enough cash to get home. Can you mind the camp until we return?” When he nodded, she continued. “Get a couple of men from your village to come help out with security. We’ll need them after I return as well. It’s a six-hour drive each way to Nairobi, so we’ll probably stay over, if I can even get her released tonight.” She tossed the bag over her shoulder and started toward the truck, but Ben stopped her.

“This is not her fault, Ebony.”

“A gun, Ben. Where in the hell did it come from?”

“Not Miss Sara, and I think not Joey. Be careful.”

The drive into Nairobi seemed to take forever, and aggravating the situation was the memory of the distressed look on Sara’s face earlier when she’d lashed out about Wachira. She’d grown closer to Sara as they’d worked and learned to respect each other’s strengths. Their styles even seemed to complement each other temperamentally and with the men. But Zak’s venomous outburst had obviously shocked Sara and left her at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

How could she have been so careless as to let Sara see her dark side? She’d kept it buried for three years while it festered and oozed around inside her, becoming angrier and uglier with each day. It never occurred to her that her desire for vengeance might hurt someone she cared for. The realization that she was beginning to care for Sara crept into her awareness. The adorably annoying redhead had effortlessly insinuated herself into her life. Her straightforward approach to life, her unabashed willingness to express her feelings, and the way she naturally interacted on a personal level with everyone she met whittled at Zak’s defenses. What did Sara think of her now, and what else was she facing while a prisoner in a foreign jail?

The same worries looped continuously in Zak’s head until she arrived at the Nairobi Police Department. She arranged for Joey’s release first and, after a discussion of whether he wanted to spend the night or return home, provided money for the retrieval of his van. Sara’s liberation was more complicated since she was not a resident of Africa, but Captain Stewart had made some calls on her behalf. Zak found the military surprisingly receptive to a large infusion of cash and a plausible excuse for the gun, with the assurance that no such problem would arise again.

When Sara walked outside the dingy walls of the station, Zak was waiting at the door. She looked scared and uncertain for the first time since they met. The desire to comfort and reassure her warred with her angry impulse to seek out her captors and exact retribution. But this morning’s events made her cautious. “Are you all right?”

Sara looked around as if disoriented. “Where am I? Where’s Joey?”

“Nairobi, and Joey is on his way back home.” She took Sara’s arm and led her toward the truck. “Did they hurt you?”

“No. What are you doing here? I didn’t even get a phone call.”

“I did. Let’s go. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve booked rooms at the Stanley for the night. It’s a six-hour drive back to camp and the roads are treacherous enough in daylight.”

Sara’s eyes were still wide and she looked around as Zak drove, taking in the city like she’d been incarcerated for years instead of hours. “I just want a hot shower and a change of clothes.” The small detail seemed to register. “Clothes.”

“I brought you something. I was in a hurry, so don’t be upset if it doesn’t match.” Zak tried to snap Sara out of her shocked state with humor. It was unsettling to see her so quiet and obviously affected by the ordeal. Zak felt so inept in these delicate situations. If she was lucky, things would be ready at the hotel and Sara could relax and regain her composure.

When they arrived at the Stanley, Zak was relieved that Captain Stewart had fulfilled her request perfectly. In addition, the fax she’d been expecting was waiting at the desk in a sealed manila envelope. She signed them in and escorted Sara to her room.

“Why don’t you have a shower and relax. If you feel up to it, call me and we’ll order something to eat later. I’d like to know what happened today.” She placed the clothes she’d hurriedly gathered for Sara on the bed and waited, unsure if she should leave her alone just yet. “Will you be okay or should I stay for a while?”

“I’ll be fine once I’m clean again.”

“Let me know if you need anything. I’m right next door.”

Zak had a quick shower and scanned the fax Stewart sent. The land-development information was more convoluted than she’d expected, but she didn’t have time to digest it all right now. Her first priority was Sara and her rattled mental condition. She sensed more was going on than just her arrest. When the shower stopped next door, Zak listened to the subtle noises of habitation as she imagined Sara drying herself and getting dressed. Then the room adjoining hers was silent. The stillness made Zak uncomfortable. She moved closer to the adjacent wall and listened.

“You stupid bitch,” Sara screamed, then something slammed against the wall and shattered on the tile floor. She was pounding on Sara’s door in seconds.

When it opened Sara didn’t look like an angry woman but like an emotionally drained one. Her hair, still wet from the shower, hung down her back in loose amber ringlets, and her face was pale and drawn. The baggy pants and T-shirt made her look small and defenseless. Her bed and the floor were littered with sheets of paper that appeared to have been thrown in the air and left where they landed. Zak stepped lightly around shards of glass that used to be a drinking cup. “What happened?” Zak stopped at Sara’s raised hand.

“Can’t do this now.”

“What? Sara, what’s wrong?”

“Too much.” Tears were streaming down her face and she seemed perfectly willing to let them come. “Too many feelings.” She took a halting breath and tried to speak again, but nothing came out.

Zak inched closer. “Please let me help you. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Her statement seemed to drag Sara back to a semi-coherent state. Fire flashed in her dark brown eyes but the tears continued to fall. “Of course you don’t understand.” Her voice hitched as she spoke through sobs. “You don’t understand anything emotional.” She spread her arms wide and turned in a circle as she talked. “Imagine this. You’re in a foreign country, your guide has a death wish and could be an axe murderer for all you know, your girlfriend is a lying, cheating slut who is spending your money to entertain her fuck buddies, and—” She paused for a breath and a fresh round of sobs. “And then you’re arrested, thrown into a smelly, hot, scary vehicle with no windows or ventilation, driven for hours in the dark, tossed into a sweltering cell with human excrement, vermin, and unsanitary people who poke your body with their fingers, and allowed no phone call.” She stared at Zak with eyes that alternated a look of challenge and pain. “Tell me, Zak, would you feel anything then? Would you?”

Zak was relieved that at least Sara was ranting again. This was normal, but the agony in her eyes was unnatural. It summoned Zak like a hypnotist calls his subject. She approached Sara slowly, gently hugged her, and guided her around the broken glass on the floor to the edge of the bed. Sara smelled of soap and a flowery shampoo, not her usual scents. She relaxed against Zak and the warmth of her body made Zak feel needed. Sweeping the papers onto the floor, she urged Sara to lie down and then sat beside her.

“I’m having a meltdown.” Sara wiped tears from her eyes. “I usually let my feelings out, but I guess I’ve let things build up lately.”

“It’s okay.” She stroked Sara’s wet hair and fingered stray strands from her forehead. “Can I get you anything?” Zak felt so inadequate. How was she supposed to deal with an emotional unraveling? She’d always run away from her own. But she wanted to help Sara, to be whatever she needed, at least for a while.

“Would you lie down and just hold me for a few minutes?”

Zak hadn’t expected such an honest and intimate request. Her body started moving before her mind formulated a response. “Um, okay.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, don’t.”

Zak’s mind told her to stop, but she wanted to be near Sara more than she’d realized. She stretched out on the bed and pulled Sara into her arms. The action felt so normal, so instinctive that the tenderness of it surprised her. She sighed in relief and her body softened into Sara’s curves.

Sara nuzzled her head onto Zak’s shoulder. “Thank you.” They lay in silence for so long that Zak thought Sara might have drifted off until she spoke again. “I feel like such a fool. Everybody told me about Rikki but I wouldn’t believe them. Even after I saw the pictures, I still thought they could be wrong. She was always so attentive and affectionate. But this report.” She waved her arms around the room. “It’s worse than I imagined. She’s been using my money to wine and dine her paramours. How stupid am I?”

Zak felt Sara’s body stiffen against her. “You’re not stupid. You just wanted to trust your lover.”

“Yeah, and she just wanted my money. Is that my only redeeming quality?”

“Absolutely not.” Zak looked her in the eye. “You’re one of the most capable and principled people I’ve ever met. You constantly amaze me with your insight. You’re compassionate to a fault. And that’s just what I’ve seen so far.”

Sara’s face brightened a little and the spark returned to her eyes. “I knew you liked me.”

“I can’t help myself.” Zak was surprised at the honesty of her reply. But the glimmer in Sara’s eyes dimmed a bit and Zak’s heart skipped a beat. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, you said something very right.” Sara touched the side of her face and heat scorched Zak’s body like a brush fire during the dry season. “But you scared me today, Zak. I don’t want to be afraid of you, but I can’t handle violence. If it’s part of who you are and what you do, I need to know now.”

Sara’s words were like a sudden African downpour, dowsing the heat in Zak’s body. She’d always dreaded having a woman she cared about ask for something she couldn’t give. She had nurtured her deadly intentions toward Wachira for years. She wasn’t sure if she could let them go for a lover, even for Sara. Her job had never required that she kill anyone, but she might have to. How could she explain her conundrum to Sara without telling her the truth? Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option in her profession.

Zak’s conflicting feelings churned until she felt she might explode. She was unaccustomed to such emotional intensity and had to do something with it. Cupping Sara’s face between her hands, she held her gaze. “I would never hurt you. Please, believe me. I—”

Sara’s mouth was on hers before Zak could say more. Wispy, tentative kisses teased her lips, and the tip of Sara’s tongue traced the outline of her mouth, seeking entry. Zak answered with a hungry, demanding kiss. She buried her hands in the thick wet hair at the nape of Sara’s neck and pulled her in so forcefully she was afraid their lips might bruise. With her tongue she probed the contrasting textures of Sara’s tongue, teeth, and soft tissue, savoring each one and committing it to sensory memory. The delicate nerve endings in her tongue seemed directly connected to her clit as wave after wave of sensation swept through her. She had never been this physically present, as if her body was acting of its own accord while from above she mentally watched someone she didn’t know doing something she’d always wanted to do—surrender to her feelings.

“Oh, Sara,” she breathed, gulping for air. Sara raked her hands through Zak’s hair and pressed their bodies closer. Her breath was moist against the side of Zak’s neck. She bent from the waist, still maintaining contact with her lower body, and tugged at the buttons on Zak’s shirt. “Please, Zak. I need you.”

Her plea, like a double-edged sword, sliced through Zak and pulled her back to reality. She clung to Sara, not wanting to let go though mentally withdrawing from her. The physical connection was almost too overpowering to break. Her body craved it. She wanted it more than she could have imagined. But her traitorous mind replayed all the reasons this was not a good idea. She reluctantly withdrew from Sara’s embrace.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

Sara stared at her with eyes full of pain. “You keep saying that. I believe you can do it. And I know you want to.” As if another possibility suddenly came to mind, she pulled completely away from Zak. “You’re not attracted to me? You just feel sorry for me?”

The idea horrified Zak and she froze, unable to articulate how absurd that option was. But the hesitation only fueled Sara’s imagination.