turned beggar-slash-thief. How would someone like him know about Aziz’s attic? He’d gone straight for it, didn’t bother with the rest of the house. How did he know there was something of value up there? And what the hell was it? He hadn’t grabbed any of the statues. Looked like he’d been searching for something specific.
“I meant no harm. I was to take nothing.” He remained prostrate.
“What were you doing up there?”
“I was given money to find something. That is all. I swear to Allah, that is all.” His forehead nearly touched the floor, the back of his shirt stained with sweat.
“Find what?”
“Just some stone. Worth nothing. Just to find them, not to take them. I swear to Allah, sheik.”
The man probably had no idea who he was, and was only calling him sheik as a sign of respect. Probably would have done anything to get away. But Karim couldn’t let him go.
“Why? Who wants to know what is in Sheik Aziz’s attic?”
The man stayed deeply bowed before him.
Karim pulled his cell phone from his pocket, opened it and dialed.
“Abdul Nidal from the souk, ” the man said quickly, probably fearing the call would go to the police. “Just to look, he said. Just to look.” And he paled when Karim didn’t shut the phone.
The call was answered on the other end.
“I need you to come to Aziz’s palace and pick up someone here,” Karim told his chief of security.
The young man looked up, his face now completely white with fear.
Karim dragged him to his feet. He had broken in, had attacked him in the attic, would have killed him if Karim had been slower. All that for a handful of change, most likely. And he would do it again.
His chief of security would figure out who he was and hold him until they knew for sure that he’d spoken the truth. Then they’d see if the police were looking for him for anything. If so, he would be handed over to face justice. If not…Karim would think about giving him a chance and a job at one of the company’s oil wells. The men who worked the wells in the middle of the desert were a tough lot. They could handle him.
Abdul Nidal . He turned the name over in his mind. It didn’t ring any bells. Then again, there was no reason why it should. He hardly knew every store owner at the souk, the local market.
How was Abdul connected to Aziz?
There was only one way to find out.
“N OTHING .” Julia kept scanning the floor.
She had followed Karim up after his security picked up the intruder. Four of his men were now stationed downstairs, guarding the house from further disturbance. They were pretty-grim looking men. Hence her preference for the attic, even though the place seriously creeped her out with its eerie statues. Despite the fact that the light was on, the scene still looked like a graveyard. And it was still the middle of the night.
She didn’t understand why finding a scrap of paper couldn’t wait until morning. Karim was convinced he’d seen some sort of a drawing in the guy’s hand when he’d first spotted him, but by the time he caught the man, the intruder had been empty-handed.
Statues and crates loomed in the heat. She tried to stay near Karim, but the whole point was to search different areas of the attic so they could cover ground more quickly. Still, she hated it when he disappeared from sight.
So when had he gone from being a threat—a person she needed to get away from at any cost—to being a point of security for her? Something to think about.
She could not let a single kiss addle her brain this much. But it had been a good kiss. Great. Beyond great . She was so busy reliving it that she almost missed the stained piece of paper that had slid half under a crate.
“Found it,” she called out, more excited about being able to go back downstairs now than about her find.
Karim was by her side in seconds, taking the crumpled sheet. A careful drawing of four primitively carved statues filled the page, complete with
“I meant no harm. I was to take nothing.” He remained prostrate.
“What were you doing up there?”
“I was given money to find something. That is all. I swear to Allah, that is all.” His forehead nearly touched the floor, the back of his shirt stained with sweat.
“Find what?”
“Just some stone. Worth nothing. Just to find them, not to take them. I swear to Allah, sheik.”
The man probably had no idea who he was, and was only calling him sheik as a sign of respect. Probably would have done anything to get away. But Karim couldn’t let him go.
“Why? Who wants to know what is in Sheik Aziz’s attic?”
The man stayed deeply bowed before him.
Karim pulled his cell phone from his pocket, opened it and dialed.
“Abdul Nidal from the souk, ” the man said quickly, probably fearing the call would go to the police. “Just to look, he said. Just to look.” And he paled when Karim didn’t shut the phone.
The call was answered on the other end.
“I need you to come to Aziz’s palace and pick up someone here,” Karim told his chief of security.
The young man looked up, his face now completely white with fear.
Karim dragged him to his feet. He had broken in, had attacked him in the attic, would have killed him if Karim had been slower. All that for a handful of change, most likely. And he would do it again.
His chief of security would figure out who he was and hold him until they knew for sure that he’d spoken the truth. Then they’d see if the police were looking for him for anything. If so, he would be handed over to face justice. If not…Karim would think about giving him a chance and a job at one of the company’s oil wells. The men who worked the wells in the middle of the desert were a tough lot. They could handle him.
Abdul Nidal . He turned the name over in his mind. It didn’t ring any bells. Then again, there was no reason why it should. He hardly knew every store owner at the souk, the local market.
How was Abdul connected to Aziz?
There was only one way to find out.
“N OTHING .” Julia kept scanning the floor.
She had followed Karim up after his security picked up the intruder. Four of his men were now stationed downstairs, guarding the house from further disturbance. They were pretty-grim looking men. Hence her preference for the attic, even though the place seriously creeped her out with its eerie statues. Despite the fact that the light was on, the scene still looked like a graveyard. And it was still the middle of the night.
She didn’t understand why finding a scrap of paper couldn’t wait until morning. Karim was convinced he’d seen some sort of a drawing in the guy’s hand when he’d first spotted him, but by the time he caught the man, the intruder had been empty-handed.
Statues and crates loomed in the heat. She tried to stay near Karim, but the whole point was to search different areas of the attic so they could cover ground more quickly. Still, she hated it when he disappeared from sight.
So when had he gone from being a threat—a person she needed to get away from at any cost—to being a point of security for her? Something to think about.
She could not let a single kiss addle her brain this much. But it had been a good kiss. Great. Beyond great . She was so busy reliving it that she almost missed the stained piece of paper that had slid half under a crate.
“Found it,” she called out, more excited about being able to go back downstairs now than about her find.
Karim was by her side in seconds, taking the crumpled sheet. A careful drawing of four primitively carved statues filled the page, complete with
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