Page 69 of Sheltering You

“Anything more specific?” Michael asked. “Take your time.”

She’d never been good at recalling what people or places looked like. She’d never been one who remembered things in pictures, instead holding memories in words and scents and feelings. She closed her eyes and willed herself back to that moment in the courtyard behind Basma’s house. She and Basma had been chatting while they kicked a soccer ball with Rabie—who’d been three or four at the time.

Dari had stepped outside from the house, and Basma’s laughter had cut off as if clipped with a knife.

Though Dari did nothing but join the game, it felt like when a thick cloud blocks the sun, and the wind blows, and everything changes.

The air crackled with tension.

Dari and Rabie kicked the ball. Basma and Jasmine faded to the courtyard wall. Basma seemed to shrink in on herself.

When Dari tired of the game, he walked toward them and stopped a little too close to Jasmine. He didn’t touch her, but she could feel his regard, the way he studied her as if she were an interesting…exhibit. Or perhaps an animal caught in a trap. There was an odd snapping and grinding in her memory.

Basma introduced her. They chatted. It was all very polite.

Even so, she’d been afraid. As soon as Dari had gone inside, Basma insisted Jasmine leave. She’d felt like a coward for abandoning her friend, but she’d done it, happy for once to return to her own house. Baba was grief-stricken and barely spoke to her, but at least he was safe.

Jasmine opened her eyes and focused on the log house around her. “He carries an arrogance, as if he is above everyone. Also, I remember that he had a cigarette lighter, not the kind you throw away, though. You know what I mean?”

“Yup.”

“He would open it, light it, then close it, over and over. It is a strange thing and probably not helpful.”

“It is,” Michael said. “Very helpful. I’ll show you a picture when I can so you can confirm it, but for now, I can tell you this. If this guy is who I think he is—and from your description, I’m almost a hundred percent sure he is—then your friend is right. He’s a psychopath, and she was wise to run.”

“But she is not free, right?”

“Actually… Is Derrick there? I need to give both of you an update.”

She turned to call him, but he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching her. “He is here.”

“Can you put the phone on speaker?”

“Um…I don’t know.” She crossed toward Derrick. “He wants us both to hear. Is there a way?”

“Sure.” He took it from her and pressed a button. “We’re here.”

“Is the kid nearby?”

“He’s in the other room,” Derrick answered.

“Okay, good,” Michael said. “I managed to get a private conversation with the uncle this morning.”

“You’re in DC?” Derrick asked.

“Sent Leila, Bryan, and Sophie home and came straight here. I’m flying overseas later, but I wanted to put out some feelers, figure out what’s going on. I went to Ghazi’s hotel and managed to get a private word with him. He told me that when you showed up, Derrick, his security team thought you were up to something. They’d gotten a tip that someone might try to kidnap Basma and Rabie. That’s why they were staying so close. After you and the kid took off, Basma ran the other way, and the team was… Well, I’m guessing they were confused, though Ghazi didn’t say that. One of them followed her, one followed the kid. They both got away.”

Jasmine asked, “She got away⁠—?”

“—That’s not what happened.” Derrick spoke at the same time, adding, “There were more than two. They followed⁠—”

“The uncle claims to have no idea who followed you.”

“How can that be?” Derrick’s tone was more irritated than confused. “The guard made a call. I saw him⁠—”

“To hotel security,” Michael explained. “The story checks out.”

“Okay, but…” Derrick shook his head. “Even if that’s true… What’s the uncle doing to find them?”