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Authors: Loretta Jackson,Vickie Britton

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BOOK: Nightmare in Morocco
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"If you make yourself conspicuous, you'll draw unwelcome attention to yourself."

"I don't care!
I like my clothes and I like my new hairdo and I'm not going to change the way I look for anyone or anything!"

"I'm afraid you'll regret it," Noa said quietly, but even as she spoke the words, Noa realized she herself was far more likely to be sorry.

* * *

Noa gripped the railing tightly as the ferry began to land
.
"What's wrong?"
Cathy's curious eyes observed her from behind
lavender
sunglasses the exact color of her skin tight blouse. "Did you get seasick?"

"No, I'm fine."
Noa thought of how ridiculous her fear of returning to Morocco would seem to Cathy, how Cathy would scoff at the sense of dread she was feeling right now
.
To rid herself of the uneasy sensation, which was settling over her like some dire premonition of doom, Noa filled her thoughts with images of Taber.

She thought of the deep red flowers from him, a little wilted from their long wait, discovered on the doorstep of her small, Spanish style home in
Algeciras
.
During the short time Cathy and she were there, Noa had nursed them back to health with sunshine and water
.
Every time she looked at them, she thought of Taber's dark hair and eyes.

The local bus took them to Hotel Tangier, one of the tall, white stucco building which overlooked the famous railway and the sea
.
As soon as they were settled, Cathy disappeared into the hotel gift shop.

Rattan furniture was scattered informally around a huge, brilliantly tiled lobby
.
Noa looked around for Taber and finally sank down on a couch facing the door so she could watch the assortment of people in business suits, in shorts, in
djellab
as
with drooping hoods.

A young man approached and after tossing a canvas bag unto the chair across from her, stood reading a pamphlet
.
He looked fresh and clean, all American, like Huck Finn grown up, glad to be on another adventure
.
His hair, slightly long, was a very light brown and his eyes kept meeting hers and smiling.

"Are you with the Carlson Rand tour?"

"I'm Noa Parker, tour guide."

"Count on me to ask obvious questions."
He grinned and added, "The emblem on your blouse matches the one on my flight bag."
He stepped closer, extended his hand in a distinctly American way and said, "Greg Corbin, from New Jersey."

Cathy would like the black, net shirt that exaggerated his shoulders, but fit tightly across thin waist and hips
.
He seated himself beside her
.
"My first time out of the States."

"My niece is from New York," Noa volunteered, recognizing in Greg's voice the same faint, Eastern accent as Cathy's
.
Noa was glad the nice appearing man, somewhere near Cathy's age, was joining the tour
.
Maybe it would make the trip more interesting for her
.
Any girl would be certain to find him attractive. "She's going to be on the tour, too."

"I hope she's as pretty as you," Greg replied.

"There's Cathy now," Noa said, pretending not to notice the admiring eyes still fastened on her
.
Noa called to Cathy, motioning her over
.
"Cathy, this is Greg Corbin
.
He'll be joining us on the tour."

Greg rose and once again extended his hand.

Noa expected Cathy to act giggly and flirtatious, instead
she merely mumbled,
"Hi."
Noa noticed how she kept her head down, avoiding the young man's eyes
.
Noa was puzzled by her actions; she had never believed Cathy to be shy.

"Can I buy you two ladies a cold drink?
We can sit out by the pool."

Noa glanced at Cathy, who seemed unenthused, but willing
.
They passed through an adjoining room and into a pool area with fragile white tables no one was using.

"What kind of mixed drinks do you have?" Cathy asked the waiter.

"We'll both have Cokes,"
Noa, undaunted by the hateful look Cathy shot toward her, intervened before the waiter could answer.

Greg continued to direct his conversation to Noa
.
Cathy slipped on her sunglasses, sipped the Coke, and ignored both of them
.

As soon as Cathy finished her drink, she pulled back her chair. "See ya," she said, and, with what seemed an exaggerated sway of the very tight jeans, sauntered away.

Noa was a little embarrassed by her rudeness, but Greg seemed un
-
offended
.
He pulled his chair a little closer
.
"So would you like to have dinner with me tonight?
I hear the food's good here at the hotel."

"Me?"

Greg grinned
.
"Why not?
You're not married, are you?"
Surprise made Noa look at him closely for the first time
.
The laugh lines that crinkled about blue green eyes told her that he was older than she had first believed; definitely more her age than Cathy's
.
Noa had been so busy playing matchmaker that she hadn't realized Greg's interest was in her
.
Perhaps she had unknowingly led him to believe she was interested; if so, she would have to discourage him.

"I'm sorry
.
There's always so much to do before a new tour."
She rose
.
"In fact, I should be going
"

"I understand," Greg said. "I'll see you tomorrow, then, at the get acquainted meeting."

"Eight o'clock sharp." Noa smiled.

Noa went back to her room and was studying tomorrow morning's itinerary when the hotel phone rang.

"Noa?
This is Taber."

She was relieved and happy to hear his deep voice
.
"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up tonight."

"I've been on the run most of the day
.
I'm afraid we're starting this tour out with a real
catastrophe
.
Of the twenty eight people we had scheduled, fifteen have cancelled out."

Noa drew in her breath. "How could that be?"

"Our group of retired teachers ate some tainted chicken on their "bon voyage" party
.
It put most of them in the hospital
.
They'll recover, in time, but had to reschedule."

"Are we going to go ahead with the tour?"

"What else can we do?"

"How many does that leave?"

"I hope you're not superstitious, Noa
.
Excluding the guides and bus driver, the addition of your niece Cathy makes a group of thirteen."

Noa laughed, but deep inside she felt another tinge of foreboding, like a premonition of reoccurring disaster.

"Listen, Noa, we have so much to discuss
.
If
you haven't eaten yet, why don't you meet me in the dining room?"

"I was going to skip supper."

"I could use some
company
and some consolation!"
"Just give me a few minutes to get ready."

Noa hastily changed into a simple blue cotton dress, pinned her long hair up with a silver clip, and went directly to the dining room
.
Taber rose quickly when he saw her
.
The deep maroon jacket made his hair and eyes appear brighter, darker
.
He was even more handsome than she remembered!

Excitement quickened as his warm hand grasped hers
.
"I hope you like seafood
.
I ordered shrimp, the house specialty, for both of us."

"I wasn't really planning to have a large dinner..."

"At times like this, food is a great consolation."
A glance at his tall, lean frame caused her to smile
.
His was certainly not the physique of a man accustomed to drowning his sorrows in food
.
As if reading her thoughts, he added, "And it's not as if either of us
needs
to worry about putting on weight."

"The trials of the job keeps us fit," she said lightly
.
Taber swept a hand through his dark hair. "I've spent the entire morning amid the trials you speak of
.
I've had to redo the whole schedule!
I believe I must have called every hotel in Morocco, apologizing in four different languages for the change
in reservations."
His expression grew serious
.
"With all the
cancellations, this tour is going to be a total loss
.
Carlson
won't be pleased."

"We can't be blamed for an act of fate."

"Who's going to tell Carlson that, you or me?"

"He's not that fierce."

"Perhaps to you he reveals a different face."

"I wanted so much for this tour to go well," Noa confessed.

"How long have you worked for Carlson Rand?"

"It's been my only interest
.
I've worked in the summer while attending college
.
Full time since then
.
My father and Wendell thought of the tour idea together, but Dad's health was very bad at the time so he never became part of it."

"I've heard all about your father," Taber said, then added with an ironic smile
.
"And I suppose you've heard all about mine."

"I only know that he was estranged from the company a short time before his death."

"Carlson didn't tell you all the details?
I'm glad."
His eyes darkened
.
"It's not pretty and it's not true."

"What happened between them?"

"Carlson blamed Dad for missing funds."

Taber said the words casually enough, but Noa did not miss the look of pain, a flash of anger in his eyes
.
Embezzlement
.
Such a serious crime
.
Much worse than Noa had even imagined.

"I entered this job to clear the Rand name," Taber explained
.
"Nothing is more important to a Moroccan, or an Englishman, than the family honor."
After a short pause, he added, "I really admire Carlson for hiring me, believing as he does that my father nearly ruined the business
.
Somehow I feel
it’s
my responsibility to help him put the tour company back in the same shape it was several years ago."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you know Carlson Rand's been losing money?
That's why this Moroccan venture is so important
.
It has to be a success!"

Wendell Carlson had never said anything to Noa about the tour company being in financial trouble. She wanted to pursue it further with Taber, but they were interrupted
.
Greg Corbin, looking hurt and a little accusing, stood at Noa's shoulder
.
"You could have told me you had a dinner date."

"It's not an official date, only a business meeting," Taber replied smoothly, coming to Noa's rescue.

Greg Corbin brightened. "In that case, mind if I join you?"

"No
.
Of course not,"
Noa carefully hid he
r disappointment
.
"Taber, this is Greg Corbin."

"I recognize the name from our tour list." He extended a hand to Greg
.
"Glad you're joining us, Greg."

As Greg's eyes settled on Taber, they became murky, like restless ocean water
.
Sensing the tension between the two, Noa was glad when the waiter rushed over
.
"I'll have whatever they're having," Greg said, without looking at him, then to Taber
.
"Two tour guides?"

"We're starting a new agenda with Morocco," Taber answered
.
"Noa and I are writing the program together."

"I believe I'll have a little more tea," Noa said, her throat suddenly dry
.
The waiter had disappeared, but to the left of the table, a few steps away, was a large silver teapot
.
Noa pushed back her chair.

BOOK: Nightmare in Morocco
3.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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