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“That would be advisable.” Hailey swept her hand to the side as if to make a path for him.
Joe watched Karam-Thomas’s ramrod-straight back as he melted into the glittering crowd, glad-handing and probably flashing that smile. “That’s weird.”
“What?”
“That he didn’t remember meeting Ayala.”
“Why?” Hailey smiled and wiggled her fingers at Dr. Roberson and her companion as they moved away to mingle. “Why are you even bringing her up?”
“I didn’t. Dr. Roberson did.”
“But why call out Dr. Karam-Thomas like that? I don’t want her involvement in the bombing of the center to come out here, of all places.”
“I’m sorry, Hailey. I just remembered that conversation we had with Ayala when you mentioned he was going to be the keynote speaker and thought it was odd he didn’t remember her.”
“Not really.” She tipped her head toward the doctor, who was in the center of a group of adoring fans. “He’s a very popular and busy guy. Speaking of which, I need to make some opening remarks before the food and Nabil’s address.”
Hailey’s speech seemed to go smoothly. Joe didn’t comprehend one word of it as he watched the crowd, his senses alert to every cough and scrape of a chair leg.
The audience met Dr. Karam-Thomas’s speech with resounding applause, and Joe’s muscles relaxed—just a tad. The evening seemed to be progressing without a hitch...and without any attempts on Hailey’s life.
The knots in Joe’s gut prevented him from enjoying or even eating much dinner. Hailey had wanted him up on that dais with her and the doctors and several Syrian dignitaries, but Joe felt more comfortable roaming the crowd.
As dinner began to wind down and the coffee was served, a ruckus erupted at the entrance to the ballroom. Joe went on high alert, pushed off the wall where he’d been leaning and strode toward the noise.
Two security guards held a struggling man between them—a man wearing a black porkpie hat with a checkered band.
“Let me in. Tell Hailey Duvall who I am. She’ll know.”
Agent Porter sidled up next to Joe. “I’ll be damned. It’s Marten de Becker.”
Joe whistled. “And this is the venue he’s chosen for his reveal—public and safe.”
Porter made a move. He badged the security guards. “Let him through. Ms. Duvall is going to want to see him, and even more, she’s going to want to hear what he has to say. We all do.”
Security released de Becker, and he brushed off his clothes and tipped his hat at Joe when he sauntered by under Porter’s protective watch.
Joe followed them up to the dais.
When Hailey saw de Becker, she jumped up from her chair and lifted the skirt of her dress to jog down the steps to the ballroom floor. She threw her arms around him and whispered something in his ear.
Joe clenched his jaw. She’d better be telling him to get up there and spill his guts once and for all.
While the other notables on the dais continued eating their desserts and drinking their coffee, Dr. Karam-Thomas had eased out of his chair and headed toward the opposite side of the dais from where Hailey was still talking to de Becker...even though the doctor’s seat was steps away from them on the same side.
Joe watched his descent from the stage through narrowed eyes. Karam-Thomas seemed to be in a hurry without trying to appear he was in a hurry—and that megawatt smile had disappeared.
The doctor slipped one hand in his pocket—the right hand—and once again, Joe caught a glimpse of that unusual ring. The same ring Ayala wore on her left hand.
Adrenaline surged through Joe’s body, and he lurched forward to follow Karam-Thomas as he wove his way through the tables, barely acknowledging his admirers as they reached out to him.
Why did he have his hand bunched in his pocket? That small space couldn’t accommodate a gun—even a small one.
Joe slipped his hand beneath his jacket to grip the handle of his own weapon as he continued to follow the doctor, who was completely unaware he had a tail.
Joe planned to keep it that way. He circled around to the right, keeping Karam-Thomas in his sights.
When Hailey’s voice boomed over the speaker system, the doctor tripped to a stop and cranked his head over his shoulder.
