Fever (20 page)

Sara stared at Zak slack-jawed.
Love you?
Suddenly Zak’s reluctance to get involved with her made sense. She already had a lover. Someone as attractive and sexually appealing as Zak would certainly have outlets for her physical needs. The thought constricted Sara’s chest like a gigantic boulder, blocking breath and pressing the life from her. The weight of this revelation crushed the things she’d wanted to say to Zak. She’d practically thrown herself at a woman who was already in a relationship. And instead of using her partner as an excuse for her disinterest, Zak assumed responsibility and simply said she couldn’t have sex with Sara. This information made the rejection even worse.

“Sara, about last night.”

“It was my fault. I was emotionally overwrought. I shouldn’t have asked you to hold me.” The next statement hung in Sara’s throat, refusing to move because it was a lie. “And I apologize for the kiss.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue. She’d never experienced anything as right as that kiss. And the reason poked at her mind with its certainty—she was starting to care for Zak, and controlling those emotions would not be easy. “You’ve made it clear our relationship is strictly business. I should’ve listened. It won’t happen again.”

*

The range of emotions that played across Sara’s face knotted Zak’s insides. She’d dreaded the kiss conversation because she had no idea what to say. She’d spent the night sorting through her feelings about Sara, her job, and the vendetta against Wachira and was no closer to an answer. How did she explain to Sara that she wanted her but couldn’t have her? She couldn’t trade the work and the narrowly focused emotions that had sustained her for years for something else. The cold, unaffected part of her bristled at the notion of love, tenderness, and belonging that had been missing for so long. Despite her mind’s resistance, her body warmed at the thought.

As the memory of kissing Sara returned and brought its full complement of pleasurable feelings, Zak considered the possibility of changing her life. She liked the glimpses of her old self that Sara had evoked during their few days together. They had given her a glimmer of hope. And Sara seemed willing to express her feelings openly. Perhaps they had a chance. But what had Sara just said? “It won’t happen again.”

“What won’t happen again?”

Sara stared at her like she’d asked the most asinine question imaginable. “I won’t be throwing myself at you anymore. I’ll even try to keep my feelings to myself, though that part could prove a bit harder. It makes you uncomfortable and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“What’s the first thing?” Zak couldn’t stop herself from asking.

A look of surprise was replaced by defenselessness as Sara seemed to consider whether to answer honestly. “I want to—”

Zak’s phone rang again and she cursed under her breath. Sara was evidently about to say something important, and Zak wanted to respond candidly for the first time. “Hello.”

“Ebony, Wachira is back. Come quick,” Ben whispered into the phone, and hung up.

“Damn.” Zak snapped the phone shut and pressed the accelerator to the floorboard. “Hold on.” The truck lurched and bounced along the dirt road while Sara clung to the door for support. They were close enough that Zak could see the high riverbank of the Talek near their camp. “Wachira again. He probably wants more money.”

“Then I’ll give it to him.”

“No, you won’t, Sara. I can’t let this man bleed you dry. He’ll keep coming back until you stop and then he’ll turn on you anyway.”

Sara placed her hand on Zak’s arm and squeezed. “I don’t care about the money, Zak. If I can’t use it to help people, what good is it? Let me keep him appeased with cash while you figure out how he fits into the big picture.”

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” Zak wanted to stop the truck, take Sara in her arms, and kiss her until she forgot everything except the fire that burned between them. But that couldn’t happen, not now, and perhaps never. The thought plucked at the tinsel-thin thread of hope Zak had spun earlier. She had to focus on the invisible danger that was beginning to take shape and on keeping Sara safe.

As Zak slid the truck to a stop and leapt out, Wachira moved toward Sara with outstretched arms like he was greeting a guest. His lone jeep and driver were an obvious contrast to the menacing entourage he’d brought on his last trip.

“Madame Ambrosini, I heard the jeshi accosted you. Are you all right?”

Zak watched in amazement as Sara’s look of dislike changed to pleasantness and her tone oozed congeniality. “Commander, how nice of you to check on me. It was a distasteful experience, one I’m sure you would never have allowed.”

“Of course not. The jeshi can be rigid and undisciplined, unlike my trained force. But you are here now and unharmed. This is what matters.” Wachira nodded toward Zak and added, “She should have called for my assistance. I could have made things easier.”

Zak started to lunge at Wachira but saw Sara tense. She remembered her last outburst and the anxiety it caused Sara. Checking her temper, she decided to let Sara handle Wachira for the time being.

“Thank you for that, Commander. I’ll remember that should there be a need in the future. Is there any more news about the land issue?”

“Not yet, but soon I think the problem will be resolved. There are many people with their hands out. Everything costs.” He shrugged his slouching shoulders in feigned apology.

“Well, that’s certainly not a problem. Let me provide you with some financial incentive to pass along.” Sara reached into her purse and handed him another roll of cash as Zak stepped behind the truck to snap a quick picture of the exchange on her cell phone.

“Madam, you are most generous. This will help.” Wachira touched the bill of his cap in farewell and retreated to the jeep. “Please call if you require my assistance again.”

As they watched his vehicle retreat over the embankment, Ben appeared from behind the mess tent. “You are well?” He clasped Sara’s hands in his and shook them for several minutes. “I worried for you.”

“Yes, Ben, I am well and very happy to be back. Who are the new men?” She nodded toward two Maasai who constantly walked the perimeter of the camp.

Zak answered, “We needed more security to help Ben while I was away, but I think I’ll keep them on.” She hoped her answer would appease Sara, but the skeptical look she got said otherwise.

They spent the rest of the afternoon sharing the information Sara and Zak had gathered about the land-development companies and surveying the school project. The men had consistently shown up for work, and the methodical stacking of concrete blocks had transformed the foundation into a reasonable facsimile of a square building. As Sara walked around the outside walls, a look of concern clouded her face.

“What’s wrong?” Zak asked.

“I just wonder what will happen when Wachira decides he has enough money and shuts us down.” Her tone was heavy with sadness and regret.

“I wouldn’t worry about that just yet. We still have time to figure out what’s really going on. Speaking of which, I have to go.” Zak grabbed her rucksack and spoke to Ben but motioned toward Sara. “Take care of everything. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Zak took the flatbed supply truck, deciding that Wachira had seen her driving the pickup too many times. For this run, she needed as much anonymity as possible. There weren’t many hiding places in the bush. When she was out of sight of the camp, she pulled over and rummaged through her bag. She always traveled with surveillance necessities, and returning to Africa had made her even more wary. She located the small night-vision camera, GPS tracking device, and monitoring screen in the bottom of her bag. After ensuring that each was sufficiently powered and working properly, she drove toward the Narok police station. If her hunch was correct, Wachira wouldn’t be able to keep the news of Sara’s arrest and her most recent payment to himself. His ego would demand that he share his brilliance with his partner/boss, and that was the person Zak wanted to identify.

When Zak pulled behind the tiny post office across the street from the police station, night had engulfed the sky. She was grateful for the semi-cover as she made her way toward the three jeeps parked in the police lot. Wachira’s distinctively marked command vehicle was closest to the door and bathed in a shaft of yellow light from the building. Using the doorways of the closed shanty shops beside the station, she made her way to his vehicle and belly-crawled underneath. She pulled the GPS tracker from her pocket, attached it to the bed of the vehicle, and turned it on. When the green function light blinked, she started to crawl out, but the door of the police station opened, and Wachira and his driver emerged.

Zak slid back under the jeep and grabbed hold of the undercarriage, pulling herself up off the ground. Her muscles ached and the still-tender acacia pricks stung when the skin pulled tight across her back. The vehicle revved to life and backed toward the post office. She bent her neck and looked for a place to drop that would provide some cover. When the vehicle slowed close to the post office door, she let go and quickly rolled into the shadows, stifling a moan as her back slapped against the hard ground. Wachira’s jeep disappeared in a veil of dust and the African night.

Within minutes Zak was in the truck following her target on the small monitoring screen that gave periodic latitude and longitude readings. She was grateful that Kenyan law allowed drivers to ride without headlights if there was sufficient lighting to see the roadway. Tonight, the moon offered just enough illumination. The fact that Wachira’s driver chose to run his lights made her job easier. She was able to hang farther back and decrease the chances of being detected.

They had been traveling only an hour when the jeep in front of her made a quick right turn into a grassy area that seemed to lead into a forest of lush greenery. Zak slowed and watched the headlights through the vegetation until they came to a stop. When the vehicle’s lights were turned off, she could see an area of illumination through the trees, obviously a house or compound of some kind. The GPS monitor indicated the latitude and longitude of the location and she pushed the Save button. The jeep started up a few minutes later and came into view again, but Wachira was not in it. She waited for it to leave the area, then drove back toward camp.

Whether that was Wachira’s home, his partner’s, or a girlfriend’s, Zak didn’t really care. He had some reason to be there, which gave her one more piece of information about her adversary. She dialed Captain Stewart and waited for the connection.

“Stewart here.”

“It’s me. I have a lat-long that I need an ID on.”

“Ebony, do you have any idea what time it is?”

Zak felt her face flush with embarrassment. In her haste to get a step closer to Wachira’s contact, she’d failed to calculate the time difference. “Not really. This is important.”

“Okay, let me have it.”

Zak read off the location and erased it from the monitor. “I need to know who lives there, or at least who owns the property, and I need it yesterday.”

“Was the information I sent helpful?”

“Yes. Sorry, but I have to go. Get back with this ASAP. Just text it to me.” Zak closed her phone before Stewart could reply. She knew her boss well enough to know that more questions were coming, and at the moment she didn’t have any answers. She wasn’t sure about anything except that Wachira had set his sights on Sara, and she couldn’t let this evil man touch another person she cared about. Her personal vendetta would have to wait until Sara was safe and her project secure.

After the weekend break, the next four workdays were quiet, with steady progress on the school. Wachira didn’t pay them any more unannounced visits, so the increased vigilance after her arrest calmed somewhat and Zak was more relaxed. Sara still had no idea where Zak had gone the night they returned from Nairobi, even though she’d asked twice. The answer had always been the same, “Out,” which translated to “Don’t ask again because I’m not going to tell you.” It most likely had something to do with Titus Wachira and the school project.

Ben assured her they would be able to put the tin roof in place in another week and begin finishing touches on the inside. While the possibility of completion thrilled Sara, Wachira’s warnings that they would demolish the building if the property dispute remained unsettled haunted her. But Zak assured her that she would get to the bottom of the situation and the school would open as planned. After lunch Zak called the crew together and spoke to them in Swahili. The men were excited about whatever news Zak shared, but instead of going back to work, they loaded into Joey’s van and left, taking Ben with them.

“What’s going on, Zak?”

“We’re taking off early today for a celebration.”

“Celebration of what?” Sara really didn’t care, because the light she saw in Zak’s eyes hadn’t been there in days. If this concocted celebration made her happy, Sara was all for it.

“Our progress. We’ve completed most of the walls. The next big step is the roof sometime next week. I decided we should treat the men and their families to a cookout. They’ve done a good job for us and it’ll encourage them to stay on.”

“What a wonderful idea. I’ll get to meet their wives and children. I’d love that.”

Zak seemed genuinely pleased with her enthusiasm. “I have another great idea, I think.”