knuckles were white.
Kate’s hand settled on his wrist as if, again, that would somehow calm him. Oddly, it did, but the feel of her skin on his did other things, too, things that had no place there or with the shock of what she’d implied, still so fresh. He shook her hand off, concentrating on his phone call. But a glance at her face made him wish he hadn’t done so, so thoughtlessly.
“I don’t know, Zaf. And, as far as our current employees? There’s no one working for us with a grudge. No one in need of money—at least, not to that extent. They’re loyal to a fault. I don’t know where else to take this.”
Emir could feel Kate’s eyes still on him.
“Just a moment.”
“Nothing turned up. He went back five years,” he said to Kate. Unfortunately, with the satellite phone there was no ability to put it on speaker, so he had to juggle two conversations and relay between Zafir and Kate.
“Can he take it back another five? We need to talk...can you call him back?” she asked.
“You know there’s no guarantee of a signal,” he reminded her.
She nodded. “All right.” Her lips thinned as if it pained her to say the next words. “When was your parents’ accident?”
Emir frowned. It was a subject that was too painful to talk about and, after the police report had been filed, the incident had been filed in his own mind, as well. “Over six years ago.” His gut clenched. He didn’t like where this was going, didn’t know if he wanted to hear it, but he had no choice. Tara’s life depended on him.
“But when, exactly, and who was with them?”
“Why, Kate?”
“It wasn’t the only time that man was there, at the village. He was there the year of the accident and he was there recently. And this time she heard his first name.”
“Damn it, Kate, who was he?”
“Ed.”
The barren reaches of desert stretched in front of them and it was only that that kept his outrage contained. He didn’t look in the rearview mirror, either, for behind them was the place that had moved them to a truth he feared might change everything he thought he knew. He took a breath and then glanced at her.
“What’s going on?” he heard Zafir ask. “K.J. was asking about the accident?”
“Hang on, Zaf,” he said into the phone.
“Get Zafir to check who was on staff the year of your parents’ accident and also if there was anyone with them, or who they had contact with that day.” She frowned. “I know some of that will be impossible to recollect, but if there was someone with them...”
“Ed,” Emir said with no hesitation. “Their bodyguard. Simohamed Khain. We called him Ed,” he said. “And the driver, of course. Ed was the only survivor,” he said gravely.
Kate could see that his mind was there, in that moment on that fateful day when he’d learned his parents’ fate and when everything had changed for him and his siblings.
“Run a check on Ed,” she said.
He nodded grimly, his jaw tense and his dark eyes narrowed. “Zaf, did you hear?” Emir asked his brother.
“I’m missing most of this and I think it’s a waste of time, Em.”
“Yeah, well, she’s right. We can’t afford to toss anything out at this point. Call as soon as you know something,” Emir said before he clicked off.
He swung around to face Kate. “What are you suggesting?”
“It’s not what I was suggesting,” she said. “It was what I was told.”
“You think the accident that killed my parents was not accidental at all—is that what you’re implying?”
“I don’t know,” she replied.
His jaw tightened. “It’s one thing to have Zaf do a search, but to think a man who was like a brother to my father...on the basis of a name similarity.”
“Wait. There’s more.” She turned away, likely gathering her thoughts before facing him, pain obvious in her eyes.
He didn’t want her sympathy and he didn’t want to hear what she had to say, either, for he knew that whatever it was might be a betrayal from which his family would never recover. He prayed he was wrong.
“So you think—”
“Wait.” She held up her hand. “The woman in El Dewar said that the last time he visited, a few months ago, there was something new, a burn down the entire left side of his face.” She looked at him with eyes full of compassion that almost did him in. “That’s not all. She was wearing a bracelet that looked very much like the one you said Tara had inherited from your mother.”
It was like he’d been sucker punched.
“I’m sorry, Emir.”
He didn’t want her apology. He didn’t want to look at the sympathy in her eyes. He wanted to take her into his arms and make her stop talking, make her stop causing him to face possibilities that threatened everything he believed.
“There were two,” he murmured. “I thought the second was destroyed in the accident. In fact, until now, I’d forgotten about it.” He looked away. When he turned back to face her, he was more determined than ever to make the men who had taken Tara pay. “The woman you spoke to...”
She nodded. “Had what I think is the second bracelet. When I noticed the similarity, I asked her where she got it. She said their visitor had dropped it, and by the time she found it, he was gone. I’m almost positive it’s a match.” She stopped, concern on her face.
Emir’s right hand was clenched in a fist. “Ed’s face on the left side was burned pretty badly. He said he struggled to open Mother’s door—to get her out.”
“My informant was pretty sure it was a burn scar. She said she’d seen plenty in the village from the cooking pots and such.”
“The woman heard him talking to himself as he was preparing to leave. She said that she would always remember the words, for they were spoken with hatred. She said he was muttering that he would make the sheikka pay.”
“Make her pay? What had Tara done to him?”
“Was it Tara he was referring to?”
Shock rolled through him at what she might be implying. It made no sense. “Who else would he mean?”
She shrugged. “You said he tried to get your mother free from the vehicle. Why not your father? Why didn’t he mention him? Attempt to save him?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m not sure. I...”
“Kate...” He could hear
