Page 29 of Sheltering You

You’re going to have to step in here, God.

He spotted a Middle Eastern woman holding hands with a curly-haired boy, walking toward the coffee shop. Had to be them.

Derrick moved toward the counter, pretending to study the menu on the wall behind it. He felt it when the two came close, but he didn’t turn their way.

“Are you in line?”

He turned at the female voice and smiled.

Basma wore a long-sleeved tan-colored dress with a matching headscarf. Though her words had been casual, fear flicked in her eyes.

The little boy wore slacks and a sweater—dressy for a kid his age, but they’d gone to a lunch of some kind, so maybe that was why. Rabie carried a bright red backpack.

“Still deciding.” Derrick stepped back. “You two go ahead.”

The little boy tugged on her hand, clearly not happy she wouldn’t let him walk away. He said something in Arabic.

She responded, her tone sharp, and moved in front of Derrick.

He kept his voice very low, not wanting the kid to hear. “Don’t look and don’t react.”

She didn’t, which meant either she was paying close attention or she didn’t hear him.

“Jasmine’s across the street in a silver Honda Accord. Nod if you hear me.”

Her head dipped the slightest bit.

Derrick scanned the restaurant, trying to act nonchalant.

Two men had followed her in. They wore dark suits and dress shoes and had short dark hair and beards. One stood near the lobby exit. He was about five-eight, maybe a hundred sixty pounds.

The other stood beside the door that led outside. He was bigger than his partner, just under six feet, probably one seventy. Not quite as tall as Derrick but probably about the same weight. Derrick assumed both guards were in fighting shape.

So much for plan A.

In front of him, Basma leaned down to talk to Rabie, though Derrick didn’t understand a word.

When she straightened, he whispered, “I’ll take care of the guard at the door. When I do, run. Don’t look back, and don’t wait for me. Just go.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and her head dipped in a tiny nod. She stepped forward, placed their order, and paid for it.

How in the world was he going to do this? Sure, he’d had a million wrestling matches with his big brothers when he was a kid, but he wasn’t exactly an MMA fighter.

Guidance, Lord?

He ordered a large Americano, a plan forming.

He’d accidentally spill the coffee on the guard by the door. Keep him busy, ostensibly trying to help. That should give Basma and Rabie time to run.

What could possibly go wrong?

The answers to that question popping into his head were not helping.

Basma and Rabie got their drinks and a couple of cookies and found a table near the door.

While Derrick waited at the counter, he texted Jasmine.

Be ready. They’ll be out in a second.