MONICA NOTED EVERY FACE on Princess Gharam’s hospital floor. She looked for those using their phones or having a private conversation. Instead she viewed somber men standing alone and alert. Ten minutes had passed without word from Kord. Where was her partner?
With one eye on the elevator monitor, she contacted Jeff. He answered on the first ring. “Just getting ready to call you. Can’t believe our luck on this case. Someone called 911 about a dead man. HPD responded and found a man strangled in an alley. Initial ID looks like the consul general’s driver. Apparently the killer replaced him with a scheme to abduct the consul general. No leads at this point.”
“Thanks, Jeff. Keep me updated.” She dropped her phone inside her jacket pocket. Was the killer after those of Saudi descent? Or was this another plot to assassinate Prince Omar while the two men rode to the consulate?
Ali moved her way, the one man she wanted to analyze. “What have you learned?”
“The consul general was unharmed.”
“I have that information.”
No harm in revealing info since the attempt was foiled. “His original driver was found dead, and the man posing as his replacement got away.”
“The impostor needs his throat cut.”
“We’ll find him.”
“And do what? Slap his hands and send him back out to kill again?”
“He’ll be processed according to the law.”
“We all know he’s the man who killed Zain.” Ali’s nostrils flared. “You Americans have no regard for a dead man. One more Arab is eliminated with no thought about his family and friends.”
“You’re wrong. We all want these crimes to end. Have you forgotten about the poor man who was murdered at the high school?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunate. The truth is you’d much prefer Prince Omar take his mother home and rid you of our presence. Princess Gharam is dying, and the clinical trial is her last effort to put the cancer into remission.”
She believed the prince’s main motive for staying was business negotiations. “I’m sorry your friend is gone, and —”
Ali raised his shoulders and tightened his jaw. She righted her body for a potential fight. The elevator signaled arrival, pushing Ali and her into duty-first mode.
She reached to her back waistband and drew her weapon. When the door opened, Kord emerged with the consul general and his bodyguards. Kord caught her attention, and she lowered her weapon. The two moved to a private corner where they could watch the door of Princess Gharam’s room and the cluster of men convened around it.
Kord quickly explained what happened in front of the hospital. “What bothers me is how the prince’s decision to cancel with Consul General al-Fakeeh happened at the last minute.”
She mentally reviewed the press secretary, each of the four bodyguards, and the two who’d been with the consul general. “Is the mole one of the men here?” she whispered. “But if he is, he knew the prince’s schedule change. So why wasn’t the plan to take out the consul general’s driver canceled?”
“Maybe he couldn’t get to his phone in time.”
“Let’s talk to every man with the prince.”
“Rushing into this before I talk to the prince is —”
“Are you out of your mind?” Had Kord been entrenched in this culture too long? “We need decisive measures now.”
“And have a firefight?”
“So we wait until someone else is killed? Ali and I were about to tangle before you arrived.”
He glanced at the man. “You still suspect him.”
“He’s a hothead. This must end with an arrest soon.” She pointed at Princess Gharam’s doorway, where Prince Omar and the consul general waited. “They want an explanation.”
Kord acknowledged the prince. “I’ll be right there, Amir.” He peered at her. “All right. What do you propose?”
He wanted her feedback? “While you’re discussing the situation with the prince and insisting one of his men has betrayed him, I’m checking on additional history, adding Consul General al-Fakeeh’s two bodyguards. We need to confiscate everyone’s phones now before anything is deleted. And I want surveillance on all these hired thugs.”
“Not sure my walking into a hornet’s nest is the best way.”
“You have the clout to speak with Prince Omar and the men as one who respects their culture.” She hesitated, then added, “In a normal case, wouldn’t you move forward?”
He swung to the men in question. “The guilty one will not raise his hand and admit he’s guilty. He’ll take precautions. If any of them has a suspect, we’d know about it —and that man would be lying in a pool of blood.”
“How would they handle it if the roles were reversed? Ali claims we Americans will do nothing about Zain. I intend to prove him wrong. Better you confront them than me.” She offered a slight smile. “I can shoot, call Jeff, and keep an eye on any man attempting to use his phone at the same time.”
“Right.”
She lifted a brow at his sarcasm. But he walked toward the cluster of men.
Monica pressed in a number while watching the bodyguards. When prompted, she gave her security code and waited for Jeff to answer.
“Is this about the consul general?” Jeff said.
“Yes. Only someone close to Prince Omar could have orchestrated this.”
“We suspected it. Who and what do you need?”
“The intel I already requested, extensive backgrounds on the prince’s bodyguards. Add to that more about the prince. All the recent cases where he’s angered another country or person. Include additional history on Princess Gharam and the younger princesses. Another background on Consul General al-Fakeeh and his bodyguards. Get our people in Saudi Arabia to dig deeper than their precious oil.”
“This will take days to sort through.”
“I want it ASAP.”
“Haven’t heard you this demanding since —”
“Jeff, you dumped me into an operation because I can do the job.”
He chuckled. “And you’ll get it done.”
She heard sarcasm in the compliment, but she’d take it. “Two people have triggered my alarm button —the bodyguard Ali and Prince Omar’s sister Fatima. Could be distinct personalities or something more.”
“What does Kord say?”
“When I can trust him, I’ll open up.”
“You and I have had our share of differences. One thing I know is you have trust issues.”
“It’s part of the job. Keeps me alive.”
“Kord Davidson is not Liam Fielder.”
The mention of the name was like pouring alcohol on an open wound. “What does Liam have to do with my current mission?”
“Your lack of trust could get you killed. Or is that what you want? To go down in a blaze of glory?”
A chill attacked her nape. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“You run on facts. Do I need to alert SAC Thomas about anything concerning Kord’s behavior?”
“Not yet. I’m observing.”
“I’m listening.”
“First off, my personal thoughts and life are off-limits. Kord and I have an okay relationship at the present. And I doubt he trusts me either.”
“You’re on the same team. Base your evaluation on that.” He ended the call.
The memories of what Liam had done, the people he’d killed, and the betrayal stung. The one area where she’d found it impossible to forgive was herself —innocent people died because of her idiocy.
Ali walked her way with long strides. His face a road map of lined anger. “A woman has no place here with Saudi men.”
“I’m working with Kord. Deal with it. I’m here. I’m good at what I do, and I don’t cower to bullies.”