Blink of an Eye by Ted Dekker Page A

beard and ran them gently through the black strands. The king looked at him with a raised brow. “Yes?”
    â€œIt’s the question of why that bothers me, Your Highness. Why did she run?”
    The king looked at Salman without speaking.
    â€œYou’re accusing me?” Salman said.
    â€œIf you have done anything I disapprove of, I would know about it. I’m not blind.”
    The revelation gave Salman pause. He wondered which of his servants was spying for the king. “I’ve told you why I believe she fled.”
    Hilal cleared his throat. “She took great risks in leaving. According to the Berkeley professor who contacted the State Department, Miriam is persuaded that she was somehow being subjected to a scheme that jeopardizes the House of Saud, although she refused to explain herself.”
    â€œI cannot imagine what she means.” He was sweating under his thawb.
    â€œEither way, I don’t like it,” Hilal said. “I would request to collect her myself, Your Highness. We must find out why she fled.”
    â€œShe’s only a woman chasing her fantasies,” Salman said. “You’re overreacting.”
    â€œAm I? You should stick your head out of your palace now and then, my friend. Our kingdom isn’t as stable as it once was.”
    â€œAnd what does this have to do with my daughter? Please.” Salman felt small in the cutthroat’s presence. Why did the king allow Hilal to speak like this to a prince? “I cannot underestimate her spirit of rebellion,” Salman said. “It took some thinking to break into my safe, and it took even more courage to steal the money. If you ask me, Samir was involved in her escape. I always thought she had him bewitched.”
    Hilal looked up sharply. “Samir? We questioned him thoroughly. He knew nothing. What do you mean, bewitched?”
    Salman hesitated, remembering the occasional glances he’d seen the driver give Miriam. “I mean that they spent time together. Alone. In the car, of course, but if you hadn’t insisted I keep him, I would have let him go years ago.”
    â€œHe’s Sheik Al-Asamm’s man, you idiot!”
    Salman felt an icy blade cut through his nerves. Hilal either knew more than he was saying or was bluffing. If the former, Salman was being set up. He had no choice but to cover his tracks. Give them something now that would later point to his ignorance of any coup plot.
    Salman stood. “The sheik’s man? You’ve allowed a Shia into my house? What if Sheik Al-Asamm has something up his sleeve? Have you thought about that? What if Miriam is part of his schemes?”
    â€œThen she will die,” Hilal said. “But you yourself swore under oath that she was the daughter of Khalid’s servant, spawned by an illicit affair his family hoped to keep confidential.”
    â€œSamir, my driver, is Shia?” He flung his arms wide. “For all I know the sky is about to rain fire on my head.” They looked at each other.
    â€œWe must proceed assuming the worst,” Hilal said. “As always.”
    â€œWhich is?” the king asked.
    â€œThat this woman fled more than a drowning. More likely a marriage.”
    Salman’s eyes went wide.
    â€œThat she is a pawn in a plot to undermine the monarchy. I’ll contact the Americans and leave immediately.”
    â€œThe Americans will help you?” Salman asked.
    â€œWe don’t need them; we know where she is. But if we do need them, they would help us. They know what would happen to the Middle East if the balance of power were to shift in Saudi Arabia. They want to keep the House of Saud in power. The fate of one woman is nothing in the large picture.”
    Salman disagreed without a word. The fate of one woman was everything.

chapter 11
    t he Faculty Club may have been one of Berkeley’s oldest buildings, but it was also one of its most stately. A good enough