Grains of Truth (27 page)

Popular Palestinian support for the violent acts of Hamas—unspeakable suicide bombings and rocket launches from Gaza into Israel—did nothing to further their cause, while a stagnant, corrupt Palestinian government failed repeatedly to agree upon a cohesive, sustainable resolution to bring to the negotiating table.

James drained his glass. Oh, yes, there was plenty of blame to go around, all right. The violent conflict would continue to perpetuate instability throughout the region, and indeed the world, as long as peace between the two adversaries remained an ever-elusive dream.

Tarquin lifted his heavy gray head at the sound of his master’s weary sigh.

And the old clock on the mantel ticked on.

Chapter 32

The Isha floated through the evening hush, calling the faithful to the final prayer of the day. In the distance, the weary cry of a migrating bird echoed with a melancholy note. Palm trees stood at ease against the blue-black sky, fronds rustling in the dry air, cooling from the heat of the day. Tables draped with alabaster linen cloths, elegantly set for dinner, some already occupied, clustered on the terrace above the pool.

Julia paused in the arched doorway, framed by the glow of lights behind her and the purple bougainvillea cascading over whitewashed stone walls on either side. She wore the same chic dress from the night of burglarizing Alexander’s cabin. Could it be possible that was only last night? It seemed a lifetime ago. She spotted Mohamed and Alex at the poolside bar and started down the steps. Every male head in the vicinity turned to watch her descent with appreciation. 

Her focus, oblivious to the stares, was on the two men standing side-by-side to greet her. Once again, she felt a pang of guilt at the stark contrast between them: one, twelve years younger than she, and the other at least that many years older. “Her men,” she thought morosely. She was ashamed to admit that a part of her wanted them both, but ruthless self-recrimination forced her to do it. Dejection quickly supplanted shame at the realization that she could have neither: Mohamed, because he belonged to another; Alexander because he represented almost everything she’d opposed her entire adult life. 

“You look lovely, as always.” Alexander wore a deep emerald-green silk tie that lightened his gray eyes to the color of a forest in the spring.

Mohamed looked especially attractive this evening in a black jacket, white shirt open at the collar to reveal the bronzed skin of his throat. The ugly bruise on his cheek, however, amplified his clear disapproval of her attire.

Before she could sit on the stool he pulled out, they heard Henrietta approaching, gently chiding her indulgent spouse. “You see, Henry, I told you they would be early. Now we can all have a nice cocktail together before dinner.”

Kisses on the cheek exchanged all around, Henrietta fussed like a mother hen over Mohamed’s injury, “from running into a door,” and promised to provide a healing cream. They moved to a table away from the bar, chatting like old friends. The hosts ordered champagne cocktails and Alex a beer while Julia and Mohamed had their usual sparkling mineral water with lime.

With drinks in hand, Henry raised his glass. “To long life and happiness,” he pronounced. At least three of the cozy group seconded the toast with heart-felt enthusiasm.

“Well, my dears, did you enjoy your nice sail on the river this afternoon? It looked as though you were all much too serious out there.”

Julia leveled a speculative look on her frail and unfailingly affable friend. Yes, there very well might be more here than meets the eye, said her acerbic inner voice. As they adjourned to the dining area, it didn’t escape Julia that both her host and hostess had noted Alex carrying the laptop case. Now that she thought about it, they’d probably observed it earlier as well, down by the river.

Before she could think of a credible explanation, Alex said in a convincingly off-hand way, “I’ve become Julia’s pack mule. Can’t imagine how she’s managed to lug the heavy thing around all this time.”

The Langley’s easy company over dinner provided a perfect relaxing end to an exceptionally stressful day. The last message from Brad had been brief: Stay where you are. Don’t leave the hotel under any circumstances. Wait until someone comes to escort you to safety.

Mohamed’s frightening experience that morning gave Julia second thoughts about any further involvement in this nightmare. It forced her to admit she was in way over her head. Her small part was done and it now lay in the hands of the professionals. Staying put suited her just fine.

In fact, as she breathed in the pure, clean air, perfumed with the scent of jasmine, at this juncture an extended stay at the Old Cataract Hotel held tremendous appeal. The setting could hardly be more beautiful—or romantic. It was disappointing that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy that aspect of the ambiance. Oh, well, perhaps another time. 

~

After dinner, Mohamed excused himself to make a phone call, politely thanking his hosts for a pleasant evening. Henrietta extracted a promise from him to collect her magic healing cream at the concierge, which she would send down for him shortly. As he retreated, she stifled an affected yawn.

“My goodness, I believe I’m all but done in. Would you two excuse the old folks if we retire?” She failed, almost comically, to hide her kindhearted expression of conspiracy.

Alex rose to kiss her cheek and shake Henry’s hand. “Not too obvious, is she?” he said, resuming his seat with a sheepish grin. 

Their eyes met across the candlelit table. A thrill of pleasure ran through Julia’s veins and she quickly lowered her lashes to look down at a bowl of exquisite magenta orchids. Even though it was hidden beneath the thin fabric of her dress, she felt the weight of Mohamed’s golden angel charm, on a chain around her neck. She self-consciously adjusted the silk scarf draped over her shoulders, but it failed to completely cover the bruises on her upper arms left from that violent embrace in his cabin earlier in the day.

Silence hummed along until Alex asked in a quiet voice, “So. Are you still in love with him?”

A melancholy smile lifted the corners of her lips. The question came as no surprise. “It’s complicated.” She shrugged, still looking down at the flowers. “We’ve been important to one another. He…he needed me.” She frowned then, adding, “Of course, he’s married. As he’s also a devout Muslim, we could never be together unless we’re married.” Her eyes came up to meet his with a challenge. “We both know that we can never be more than friends. Just good friends.”

The low voices of other diners in the background surrounded them as the implication of her words registered fully. Could never be together unless they were married. Just good friends.

Did that mean they weren’t—that they’d never been—lovers? Was this possible? Hope rushed into his heart. Once they were safely delivered from this mess, he promised himself, he would court Julia Grant. With all the energy and means he possessed.

A solicitous waiter jarred him from his revelation. Regretfully, Alexander looked down at his watch, sorry to see it was later than he thought. He came to his feet and reached for the laptop case. “It’s late. I’ll walk you to the elevator.”

Julia felt surprise at the abrupt end to a promising evening, along with a crushing disappointment. After winding their way through the tables on the terrace, they passed through the dimly lit lounge and turned a corner. Ahead lay a dazzling arched hallway, typical of Islamic architecture. Exquisite perforated brass lamps inset with multi-colored stones hung from the high ceiling, sprinkling the walls with diffused, jewel-toned light.

Julia stopped to admire the enchanting effect and, as she did, the scarf on her shoulders slid down onto the marble floor. They both stooped to pick it up, and their fingers met on the silky cloth. 

Alexander placed his hands on her arms and raised her slowly to her feet. When he pulled her to him, she didn’t resist. They looked searchingly into each other’s eyes before their lips came together. At first unexpectedly tender, the long, lingering kiss intensified until both their bodies grew warm with a rising urgency.

The elevator bell rang, breaking the spell. Alex moved reluctantly away, his hand slipping down her arm to take her elbow and guide her to the elevator door. When it opened, several people got out, chattering away in Spanish, and went into the lounge. He reached in, pushed the button for her floor, and stepped back into the hall.

“Bolt your door. I’ll call you in the morning.” His eyes held hers until the metal doors closed between them.

Julia moaned as she collapsed against the wall. This was terrible! But at the same time it was wondrous. After so many lonely years, she now found herself being pulled apart with desire for not one but two men. In addition to the internal conflict over this, they were all at risk here. Any one of them could lose their life if they weren’t careful.

A lightning bolt of alarm flashed in her brain as the elevator door opened on her floor. Why hadn’t he come up with her? Their rooms were on the same floor. Where was he going? 

With fear tempered by a healthy dose of irritation, she jabbed the lobby button. The descent was thankfully swift. She stepped out and looked up and down the hall. No Alexander. She dashed through the lounge into the lobby. Squinting toward the main entrance, she caught sight of his back in the revolving glass door. 

What was he up to? Then she remembered. He hadn’t said anything tonight about making contact with his “customer.” But that didn’t mean a damn thing. And he had the laptop. What the hell was going on?

She realized that she’d stopped moving while her mind whirled and barged down the hall. Emerging on the other side of the revolving door, she caught a glimpse of him exiting the gate and turning left on the corniche. Without a moment’s hesitation or a second thought, she hastened down the gravel drive, determined to follow—wherever he went.

~

Mohamed hung his head in frustration and despair. Witnessing the kiss had brought a sorrow that robbed him of reason. Coming upon the unsuspecting pair, he backed into the dim lounge. There he remained in concealment while Bryant walked briskly past. He stood there still, agonizing over the scene, when Julia unexpectedly reemerged from the elevator and flashed by.

Sorrow shifted to suspicion. What was all this? He followed Julia warily down the main hall, up to the revolving door. As his hand fell on the metal bar to push it around, a firm, kindly voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Wait, Mohamed. Don’t go.”

He turned to find Henry, Henrietta one step behind. “It’s not safe for you to leave the grounds. I’ll go.” 

Henrietta placed a thin hand gently on Mohamed’s arm as Henry slipped into the opaque night.

“It will be all right. Let’s go sit for a moment, shall we? I’d like to tell you a few things. Things you may find most interesting.”

She led him unwillingly to a plush sofa in a deserted corner of the lobby. They were an incongruous pair, sitting close, her white head bent next to his dark one. She spoke in a steady murmur for quite a while.

~

Julia zigzagged through the crowd along the corniche, thankful she’d worn low heels. She was torn between calling out to Alex to confront him about leaving without telling her, or continuing to follow surreptitiously behind. What if he wasn’t as “okay” as Brad Caldwell thought?

Before she could reach a decision, he nimbly crossed the congested street, turned a corner and disappeared. Cursing under her breath, she clutched the scarf closer over her bare arms and increased her gait, mindless of her surroundings. 

Faoud, lurking in the shadows across the street from the hotel entrance, saw the arms dealer come through the gate. As he stepped from concealment to follow, the woman came hurrying out. A sinister smile marred his ugly face as he stole along on the opposite side of the street, keeping slightly behind.

Henry emerged from the gate and paused, searching for Julia. With her long legs trying to keep pace with Alex’s even longer ones, she was already a considerable distance from the hotel.

“Julia! Wait!” The old man moved much more quickly than one might expect, but he was too far behind for her to hear. The clamor of the heavy evening traffic drowned out his call.

Still on the river side of the thoroughfare, Julia darted through the throng of pedestrians. Henry pressed on in pursuit. He didn’t notice the man on the other side until it was too late.

When Alex disappeared, Julia plunged into the street, to find herself perilously caught between honking cars, horse-drawn carriages and motorcycles whipping in and out everywhere. As she crossed, Henry bounded into the traffic, still some distance behind. His eyes swung back and forth between Julia and the vehicles speeding past. He managed to reach the other side slightly before she did, and closed some of the distance between them.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out. “Julia!”

Again, she failed to hear, but Faoud—directly behind her now—turned at the call. A cold, hard fear gripped Henry at the shocking expression of pure evil on the unsightly face. He broke into a run—faster than most men half his age could muster.

Julia reached the other side. Her attention having been focused on imminent survival, she was completely unaware of the threatening figure close behind as she turned the corner.