MONICA STROLLED to a remote corner of the waiting area. To think. To process. Her priorities were vested in the mission with Prince Omar and his sisters. They were hurting, and her compassionate side wanted to fix it. Impossible. The regrettable decline of Princess Gharam implied she’d never leave the hospital.
The bodyguards and staff at the Saud home supported the prince. She could see it in their eyes and their resigned faces. They mourned the unfortunate diagnosis too.
Monica feared whoever had taken Parvin Shah’s place might take advantage of preoccupied bodyguards and strike again.
She must stay alert, not be distracted. Seeing Lori distressed her, but mending their friendship had to wait.
Kord took a seat beside her. “The prince has been hit with too many tragedies this week.”
“I respect Prince Omar and see him as a man with many burdens.” She paused. “Although I don’t understand his willingness to put people in danger. Fatima and Yasmine have their own dreams and problems, and I care about them.” She looked into his eyes and a chill raced up her arms. Please, she didn’t need to fall for a man again. Except she was cratering.
“Princess Gharam will do whatever her son asks,” Kord said.
“Because she loves him, or is it the male dominance thing?” She drew in a quick breath. “I’m sorry. Doesn’t matter.”
“It’s okay. She loves him and her daughters.”
The frightening chill of attraction again. “Is Malik on schedule to head home?”
“He is. Never budged from his story.”
“Guilty or protecting someone?”
“Maybe both.”
“What does this mean for Yasmine?” she said.
“She’ll return to her studies and life in Riyadh. Luckily few know about her and Malik, and the prince will make sure the story isn’t retold.”
“Glad to hear it. Fatima and I are having our first self-defense class this afternoon.” She remembered. “Unless she’s needed here.”
“All depends on her mother’s resolve.”
“Why isn’t her husband here? Does it have anything to do with not being the favored wife?” Monica said.
“She and her husband haven’t gotten along for years. Probably happier apart, and she’s well taken care of in Saudi. Her life centers around her children and grandchildren.”
“A curious culture. Actually it’s much like couples who are married in name only.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “In Princess Gharam’s situation, I’m not sure what road I’d take with terminal cancer. I wouldn’t want others to see me struggle.”
“Sounds like you’ve thought about it.”
“You and I have seen far too many suffering people.”
“The difference is I have hope for heaven.”
“You’ve told me.”
“I can share more when you’re ready.”
“I’m looking.” He held up his hand. “End of discussion.”
Their phones alerted them to an incoming text. Monica read the DNA report gathered on the roof of Paramount High School when Zain was killed. “I loathe the word inconclusive,” she said.
“Nothing we can do about it.”
She scrolled through her phone for anything she might have missed.
“What’s your next assignment?” Kord said.
“Back to the coffeehouse until further orders.” The reminder of seeing Lori earlier brought a surge of remorse. Monica couldn’t blame her friend for eliminating her job, and it might be easier in the long term when she’d need to move on to another assignment. But Monica treasured her friendship with Lori and hated to see it end badly. “My cover might have been blown.”
“How?”
“Saw my friend and boss in the gift shop with Ali. She heard enough to guess I could be connected to the royal family.”
“She’s visiting here?”
“Yes. I’m debating whether to let it ride or text her.”
“Would she tell anyone?”
Monica blew out her angst. “She’s close to her mom and sister. Guess that answers it. I’d better take care of this now.” Reaching for her shoulder bag, she pulled out her personal cell and texted Lori. R u ok? She could be too upset to respond.
“Is this the first time she’s suspected anything?”
Monica told him about the man who’d asked for her at the coffee shop. “Lori said he was dark-skinned and had an accent.”
His eyes flared. “When were you going to tell me this?”
“I’m sorry. I agreed to the trust thing and didn’t follow through. So I’d planned to go over it with you after I viewed the camera footage from the coffee shop.”
“When?” Kord’s tone indicated his anger, and she couldn’t blame him.
“Tonight. I have a key if you want to join me.”
“Glad we had the discussion about trust.”
“You made your point. Are you going or not?”
“What do you think?”
Her phone alerted her to a text, and she read aloud. “It’s from Lori. ‘Should I be okay?’”
Kord peered into her face. “See if she’s available now. You can’t let this slide.”
Can we talk? R u still here?
Yes
Outside gift shop in 5?
OK
Monica stood. “If you need me, text.”
“The doctor said twenty minutes if the estimate’s accurate. May need to reschedule the press conference.”
On the elevator, she prayed for wisdom. Strength to lie? That sounded real biblical.
She made her way to the gift shop and Lori —who stood with her arms crossed. Monica formed a semblance of a smile with little clue how to lie and not lie. Both mattered, but one always held priority.
“Shall we find a quiet place?” Monica said.
“I’d rather stay right here. Where’s your friend?”
“Busy.”
“Is he a bodyguard for the Saudi prince or the press secretary? Or both?”
“You’re upset, and I’m sorry.”
“Sorry enough to tell me the truth?”
Monica studied Lori’s fury and fear. This was her sister-friend, but she could not and would not give away her role with the CIA.
“Monica?”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“They’re the same.”
“Afraid that would be your answer. Are you in trouble with the wrong people?”
“No.”
“Are you wanted by the law?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Family issues?”
Monica shook her head.
“Does it have anything to do with the man asking for you?”
“I have no idea.”
“Pretty serious stuff?”
Monica stared. No lame excuses. “Trust me?”
“I want to, but this is surreal.”
Monica kept her composure.
“The guy you were with is a bodyguard. I saw his photo online. Anything else you can tell me?”
Awkward.
“Is Monica Alden your real name?”
“Does it matter? Aren’t we friends? Think about the times we’ve laughed, cried, worked alongside each other. Prayed?”
“When you put it in those terms, I have to support you.”
“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Will you ever be able to tell me what’s going on?”
“No.”
Lori breathed in and swiped beneath her eye. “More to pray about. What can I do?”
“Never breathe a word of your suspicions. Never bring up the subject, no matter how private the setting. When we’re together, I have your back. Always have. Always will.”
“I promise.”
“I need to get back.”
“No more questions,” Lori said. “Call when you can.”
Monica hugged her. “Love you, sweet friend.”
“Get some rest. You look tired.”
“For the record, my name is Monica Alden.”
She walked to the elevator and texted Kord. OMW. All ok.
The 3 r still busy
Monica shook off her cover at Coffee Gone Dark. This was her reality.