THE GUARDIAN (Taskforce Series) (9 page)

“Night, Miz Maggie,” Muhammed called, blowing her a kiss.

Lena
shook her head. “Good night, Muhammed.”

“Sorry ‘bout what I done,” Jamal mumbled as he shuffled past
.

“That’s okay. You gave it back.”
Sort of.

“See you Sunday,” Nadim said as he filed past
.

Wait, Sunday?
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked at their retreating backs
.

“Weekend liberty,”
Davis
supplied, sliding a hand along the counter as he moved reluctantly toward the door
.

“You’re all leaving?” Her dismay was genuine
.

“Just for one night. I’ll be back,”
Davis
assured her, sending her a sly wink that made her stomach pitch
.

“You comin’ or not?” Abdul bit out as he held open the door.

Davis
swiveled toward him. Hostility radiated from his stocky body as he advanced on Abdul. “I don’t take orders from you,” he growled
.

Lena
held her breath. A fight between such large, undaunted men could only get ugly. She feared one of them getting hurt; or worse yet, being restricted from coming to visit her at Artie’s. But Abdul just stared
Davis
down, giving him no good reason to take the first swing.

At last, her sister’s killer stalked off, his dark form sliding past the windows. Just the whites of his eyes remained visible as he glanced over his shoulder at her.

“You should leave this place.” Abdul’s deep, musical voice recaptured her attention as he prepared to let the door drop shut
.

She tossed her head at him. “Says who?”  

“These men are dangerous.” Once again, his speech sounded educated
.
 

“And you’re not?” 

He shrugged, lifting and lowering his powerful shoulders as the door started closing between them
.

“What got you thrown into jail?” she called out.

But then the door thumped shut and he was walking away, rejecting her question as blatantly as he rejected her presence here. Adopting a bad-ass stroll, he disappeared into the dark
.

“Hey, what’s it gonna take to get some service here?”

Lena
jumped a foot into the air. She’d forgotten all about the truck driver standing by his rig at the illuminated pumps. She slapped her palm over the reply button.

“Sorry, sir. What can I get you?”

As she set the diesel pump for two hundred dollars, she pondered Abdul’s attitude. First he’d wanted her to delete his photos; now he wanted her to leave. Obviously, the man was hiding something
.

Well, hell, that just gave her one more reason to stick around.

Chapter
Five

Jackson
glanced sidelong at his colleague as they descended the steps of the mosque to cross the broiling parking lot. The weekend was going to be a scorcher.

Much to
Jackson
’s surprise, Toby had shaved his soul patch, cut his overlong hair, and swapped out his usual T-shirt for a stylish suit, one that actually made him look like a parole officer, so much so that Ibrahim had scarcely glanced his way when Toby signed him out. The imam would never have guessed Tobias Burke was a special agent for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.

Jackson
waited till he was settled
in
the back seat of their rented Crown
Victoria
to say it. “You clean up good, Burke,” he remarked as Toby slipped behind the wheel
.

Toby slipped on a pair of Versace sunglasses. “Yeah, but you’ll never look like a thug, Stonewall,” he retorted, starting up the car.

“My name’s not Stonewall.” This wasn’t the first time he’d reminded his colleague of that fact.
Jackson
figured the reason Toby persisted in harassing him was because he’d once been an Army Ranger, and an enlisted one at that. Hence the constant attempts to belittle the former Marine Corps officer. They were both out of the military now, but the competition between the two branches of service remained, and Toby could call
Jackson
whatever the hell he felt like. Stonewall Jackson happened to be a Confederate Army General, and Toby was a Civil War Buff from
Philadelphia
.

Tossing a cocky smile at the rearview mirror, the former Ranger swept them onto Highway 235 while punching on a rock and roll station. They barreled north toward Abdul Ibn Wasi’s home in
Baltimore
. Only, they wouldn’t go nearly that far.

“So, tonight?”
Jackson
queried, eager to get the business of chasing
Lena
out of town behind him. “You found out where she’s staying?”

“Yep,” Toby answered. “Thanks for the distraction, man. Beats hanging around some dingy motel while you do all the fun stuff.”

Fun stuff, right.
Jackson
dug out the pamphlet Ibrahim had distributed last night. He handed it wordlessly up front.

“What’s this?” Taking it, Toby divided his attention between the highway and the booklet. “Looks like the material my mother’s church doles out predicting that I’m going straight to hell.”

“It’s a reference to the Judgment Day,”
Jackson
explained.

“So, what’s with the pictures of the Capitol building?”

“That’s what I wondered. Here, I’ll read it to you.”
Jackson
held out a hand to take it back.
“When the Master of the Age appears, the young among his followers will rouse themselves and reach
Mecca
that very night. At that time, the Mahdi will call upon the entire world to join his movement.”

“Are you shittin’ me?” Toby muttered, turning off the highway onto a narrow country road that meandered toward the river
.

“
Those who have suffered and lost all hope that their situation could improve will rally around him and will pay allegiance to him,”
Jackson
continued.
“A vast army made up of courageous, sacrificing, and reform-seeking peoples of the world will be prepared to be led by him. They will occupy the east and the west of the world and will bring everything under his command. They will continue their struggle until Allah's pleasure is acquired.
That’s it,” he said, shutting the booklet.

“And Gateway’s leaders want the parolees to believe that stuff,” Toby marveled. He directed his attention at a tiny house set back beneath the trees on their right. “By the way, that’s the rental where the journalist stays.” He directed his gaze at the trees on their right
.

Jackson
’s pulse quickened as he recognized Schlesser’s Jeep parked beside a tiny white house. The recollection of what he and Toby had planned for the journalist that night dimmed his pleasure in getting a break from the program. He wished they didn’t have to chase Lena Alexandra away so soon. He’d never
felt
more alive than when he was in her presence
.

Sitting back in his seat, he focused his thoughts on a different young lady, one he knew he couldn’t live without. So why had he made work such a priority and missed so much of her childhood? 

Ten minutes later, that question pegged him in the heart when a stunning young lady burst out
of
the riverfront rental with a long-legged run. “You’re here!”

Jackson
barely had time to shut the car door before his daughter launched herself into his arms. Nose buried in her auburn hair, he swung her in a circle. Naomi smelled as she always did, of sunshine and laughter and everything good in this world
.

“Dad, you are so going to love this place!” she declared, unaware of his private heartbreak as he took in how much she’d grown since heading off to Girl Scout camp at the start of summer. She was coming to resemble her mother more and more, only Colleen’s skin had been fair where Naomi’s was a caramel brown.

He cut a critical glance at the cedar-sided contemporary home. “What’s so good about it?” The damn place had better be a castle considering what he paid to rent it
.

“Wait till you see the inside!” she said, oblivious to his satire. Just then Toby stepped into her line of sight, and she lapsed into shyness
.

“Honey, this is a friend I work with, Mr. Burke. Toby, meet my twelve-year-old, Naomi.” He watched with amusement as Naomi offered Toby a formal handshake. In the very next instant, she lapsed back into the child he knew and tugged him toward the house.

Leaving Toby to collect their technical equipment,
Jackson
let himself be dragged inside. “Wow,” he breathed, knowing it was expected of him.

The vacation home was everything he’d hoped it would be, with an open floor plan, inventive architecture, and a cathedral ceiling. Soaring windows offered a stunning view of the
Patuxent
River
flowing leisurely along a sandy shore some thirty yards below them, at the end of a long run of steps. The house smelled of freshly cut flowers and Windex.

“Isn’t it awesome, Dad?” 

“It’s awesome,” he agreed, glad to have done something right
.

“She’s been swimming and fishing from sunrise to sunset,” reported his mother-in-law coming down the spiral steps from the loft.

Jackson
greeted Silvia with a stab of guilt
.
“What about you?” he asked. She ought to have been enjoying her retirement instead of raising his child.

“Oh, I love it,” she assured him. Her once-red hair had lost its luster, fading to a muted auburn, but the former school teacher claimed the face of much younger woman. “How are you making out,
Jackson
?” she asked with a sympathetic hug. “You certainly look the part.” Her gaze flickered with distaste over his attire
.

“You hear that, Burke?” he called to Toby, who staggered into the kitchen just then, loaded down with their gear. “She says I look the part.” He made quick introductions.
“Silvia, this is Special Agent Toby Burke. Toby, this is Naomi’s grandmother.”

“Take this,” Toby grunted, unburdening himself onto
Jackson
and capturing Silvia’s hand. “Pleasure ma’am,” he said, with a smile reserved exclusively for members of the opposite sex.

As Silvia’s face reddened,
Jackson
mentally rolled his eyes. Toby’s reputation with the ladies hadn’t been exaggerated. “Where would you like us to put our stuff?” he asked pointedly
.

“I’ll show you.”

Naomi escorted them through to a hallway at the back of the house where two furnished bedrooms, a luxurious bath, and a small office supplied all the space they needed
.