The Shadow of Death (Psalm 23 Mysteries Book 9) (13 page)

“I’m not sure you do.”

He ran his hand down to hers then laced his fingers through hers.

“I’m going to have to be the man I used to be. I never wanted to have to be that man. And I never, ever wanted you to have to see that man.”

“Jer...Malachi, it’s okay,” she said, his real name unfamiliar on her tongue.

He closed his eyes with a little groan. “I know this is going to sound strange but I both love and hate hearing you say my name like that.”

She didn’t know what to say. She was pretty sure the conversation they were having wasn’t for the benefit of any listeners, but she could also tell that he didn’t care if they were listening. She was just glad she hadn’t slipped completely and called him Jeremiah.

“Malachi,” she said softly although she wasn’t sure what drove her to say it.

He let go of her hand and wrapped both arms around her, crushing her tight to him. He buried his face in her neck and his breath tickled.

“I don’t want you to see the monster I have been,” he whispered.

Her heart was hammering in her chest and her entire body felt warm and tingly. She put her hand on his head and began to stroke his hair.

“I know what you are, and all I see is a man.”

His lips pressed against her neck and she gasped at the sensation.

“Cindy, my darling, my love, you bring out the best in me. But right now I need to tap into the worst of me.”

He kissed her neck again, his arms tightening even more around her. His breathing sounded ragged. “I need you to go home,” he whispered in between more kisses to her neck. His lips trailed up to her ear and he kissed it as well. “I need you to be safe.”

He rolled slightly and pulled her on top of him as he continued to kiss and nuzzle her neck. “I need you to be there. I need you to wait for me. Because if I make it out of this alive, I’m going to need you to remind me how to be a good man again.”

“I don’t need to remind you; you know on your own,” she said, gasping slightly for air. Her thoughts were scattering. She could feel him underneath her. She could feel his fear, his need. She felt the hunger in his lips as they trailed across her throat.

“Cindy, I’m already slipping away, I can feel it,” he said, looking up at her. His eyes were pleading. “I need you to go home to Pine Springs. I need to hold on to the hope that someday I can go back there again. And maybe you can remind me what it was like to be a rabbi, a friend, all those things that I am there that I’m not here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

She dipped her head and kissed his cheek. She felt dizzy, breathless.

He buried his head in her neck again. “I don’t deserve your kiss. You don’t know the things I’ve done.”

“I don’t care what you’ve done. That’s in the past. This is about the present.”

He started shaking, his body shuddering hard and she could feel his tears against her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he kept saying over and over.

“For what?”

He grew very still. Slowly he sat up. He twisted her so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed. He let go of her and stood up. His eyes were closed as he turned to face her.

“I’m sorry that you’re going to have to see everything I’ve tried to hide from you,” he said.

His voice was different. His accent was thicker, but it was more than that. There was a hardness to it that she’d only ever noticed a few times before. He drew a deep breath and then he opened his eyes.

Where she usually saw warmth and humor and compassion now she only saw cold, calculating rage.

11

Cindy stared up at Jeremiah, and it was almost like seeing a stranger staring back. She steeled herself for whatever was going to come next.

“I will ask you once more and it will be the last. Will you leave this place and go to safety?” he asked.

She stood slowly and clenched her hands into fists at her side. “No. I will stand by you. Whatever the cost.”

He nodded. “Let’s get dressed. They’ll be coming for us soon.” He turned and went to the closet. He reached into her suitcase and pulled out some clothes then walked back over and placed them on the bed. “Wear these.”

He had chosen a long black skirt that reached to her ankles and a long sleeved black blouse that he must have dug out of the back of her closet since she barely could remember it. She was pretty sure it was too big on her and that was why it had been relegated to the back of the closet, awaiting the day she would finally clean out the unwanted clothes and donate them to charity.

Sitting on top of the blouse was a black scarf her mother had given her for Christmas a couple of years before. It had been typical of her mom to give her something she would never use.

“What do I do with this?” Cindy asked, picking up the scarf.

“Cover your head with it. Tuck your hair inside so it doesn’t show. I can help you wrap it if you need me to.”

Cindy stared for a moment at the scarf. If she made it back to California she might have to call her mother and thank her.

Jeremiah pulled off his T-shirt and Cindy couldn’t help but stare at his chest for a moment. Every muscle in his torso was well-defined. The clothes he wore just never showed it off.

What her eyes gravitated to most, though, were the scars. There were so many of them. She knew he’d gotten one of them in the army during hand-to-hand combat training. The rest had to have come from his time working with the Mossad.

He turned toward the closet and she saw that his back had its fair share of scars as well. He grabbed some clothes out of his suitcase and turned around. He caught her staring, but she didn’t avert her eyes.

“At least now you know where the scars come from,” he said.

“In the general sense, yes. I still don’t know how you actually got each one.”

“They’re not pretty stories.”

“I wouldn’t expect them to be. Not if they leave those kinds of scars,” she said.
And the psychological ones are pretty brutal as well
, she thought to herself.

She crossed to the closet, grabbed some underwear from her bag, then picked up the clothes on the bed and headed into the bathroom. Ten minutes later she was dressed and ready with the exception of the scarf which was giving her trouble. She didn’t have any hair pins or
scrunchies to help her put her hair up and it kept escaping from the scarf.

Mindful of the fact that people could be listening she opened the door. “Malachi, I’m going to need help with the scarf after all.”

“Shortly,” he called.

She exited the bathroom, scarf in hand.

“It just won’t stay...” she stumbled to a halt. Solomon and Jeremiah were sitting in two of the chairs in the living area of the room. Solomon must have arrived just after she went into the bathroom since Jeremiah still had his shirt off.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I am the one who is intruding,” Solomon said.

“What’s wrong with the scarf?” Jeremiah asked.

“It keeps slipping on my head and I can’t get my hair to stay up since I don’t have any pins. Does the hotel have a sundries store that might carry something?” she asked, keeping one eye warily on Solomon.

“I don’t expect so. That’s okay. I have a simple solution.”

Jeremiah got up and headed to the closet. He pulled something out of his bag. “Okay, turn around,” he instructed.

She did so, holding the scarf in one hand and pulling back her hair with the other. He came up behind her and lifted the hair off her neck. A moment later something cold touched her neck and then she heard a terrible ripping sound.

“Done,” Jeremiah said.

She turned and saw that he was holding several inches of her hair in one hand and a long, sharp knife in another.

She gasped and her hand flew up to feel her head. He had cut off so much of her hair that what was left didn’t even reach to the collar of her shirt.

“How dare you?” she fumed, shocked that he had done it at all let alone without her permission.

“He was right to do so. Where you are going it would be very dangerous for you to have your hair exposed. This will make it easier on you,” Solomon said.

Jeremiah walked into the bathroom and came back after having dumped her hair in the garbage. He took her scarf and began to wrap it around her head.

“And where is it we’re going?” she asked, still angry.

“Iran,” he said.

Iran
. The very thought of going there made her suddenly queasy and her anger was quickly replaced by fear.

“I don’t want to go there,” she whispered.

“No, you don’t. I would recommend you stay here and wait for him,” Solomon said.

“She’s not staying behind,” Jeremiah said grimly. Finished wrapping her head he stepped back. He nodded shortly as though to signal that he was pleased with the work then turned and walked back toward Solomon. “We have less than two weeks so we’ll need to move fast,” Jeremiah said.

“I’d prefer to do this another way, but we just don’t have the time. You’ll be flying in by way of Frankfurt. You have first class tickets.”

“Cover?”

“Rich German businessman and his American wife looking to invest locally. You’ll be staying at the Evin Parsian Hotel.”

“I don’t like going in so high profile.”

“I don’t like it either, but it’s fast and that’s what we need. I’ll be sending a man with you posing as your assistant.”

“No.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one goes with us. It’s just Cindy and me.”

“But the man I’m sending is one of the best.”

“I don’t care. The last man you sent was killed and I very nearly was, too. Any ideas yet on who the imposter was or who sent him after me?”

Solomon grimaced. “He was one of ours. Missing, presumed dead, six months ago.”

“That’s exactly why it’s just going to be the two of us. Did you handle the arrangements yourself?”

“I did.”

“Good.”

Cindy felt lost as she listened to the two men discussing the impending trip to Iran. Everything in her screamed that this was a bad idea. What choice did she have, though? She wasn’t leaving Jeremiah, so if he was going to Iran then so was she.

“I don’t have any clothes that look like what the wife of a rich European would wear,” Cindy protested. She touched her hand to the scarf around her head. “I don’t exactly have the glamorous hairstyle either.”

“The clothes we have for you. Short hair is in style,” Solomon said, a look of irritation crossing his face before he turned back to Jeremiah.

Cindy’s fear began to give way to a second wave of anger. Jeremiah’s cutting of her hair had been unnecessary as it turned out.

“Once you’re on the ground in Tehran what will you need from us?”

“Nothing. I will handle it. I will need you to ease any agents you already have
there back and away from us without telling them why. The last thing I need is to have to worry about bumping into one of them.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“There is one other thing I’ll need.”

“What’s that?”

“Exit plans. Several of them, because I’m certain there’s no way we’ll be leaving the country the same way we got there.”

Cindy felt a chill dance up her spine. That sounded ominous and she found the fear creeping back. After all, what did it matter what length her hair was if she was dead?

It was late when Traci finally sent Mark home to get some rest. As much as he didn’t want to leave, he knew she was right. He was running on fumes and pretty soon he was going to collapse if he didn’t get at least a couple hours sleep. Geanie and Joseph had left several hours earlier after getting to visit with Traci and see the babies.

Babies.

He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had twins. It was wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.

He got home and half-staggered to the front door. He made it inside and turned on the lights. The house was silent. He took a deep breath as he realized that it was just the calm before a very long storm.

Out of habit he reached for Buster’s leash, but it wasn’t hanging on the hook. He blinked in surprise for a moment until he remembered that he had given Geanie and Joseph a key so that they could come and get Buster and Captain and take them to their house for a few days. Both dogs had likely been thrilled when they showed up to give them their morning walk. It freed him up not to have to worry about them getting outside to use the bathroom the next couple of days while he would be spending so much time at the hospital.

He’d also called Liam from the hospital, and, after sharing the good news, asked him to find out as much as he could about the Iranian student’s family. Hopefully he’d come up with something soon that would be of help.

Mark headed back to the bedroom and barely managed to get undressed before he fell into bed. The moment his head hit the pillow he was asleep.