Murphy's Law (14 page)

With a sad sense of irony, she wished it were true. Her mother always told her she would fall in love when she least expected it, but her mother never told her the feeling might not be returned.

Chapter Ten

Jack paused at the door and turned towards Lilly. His stomach knotted. She gazed at him with such trust that he prayed he could live up to her expectations. With all she had to deal with, she remained remarkably calm. He remembered quite a few men he’d brought in over the years who couldn’t handle the pressure as well. He eased her out the door and into the narrow alley. They inched along the wall and around the corner. Lilly gripped his left hand as tightly as his right hand gripped his gun. Whoever killed Yousef and took the shots at them could be anywhere. Or gone completely.

A maniacal grand master had challenged him to a game of chess—the ultimate battle of strategy—and his unknown opponent now held him in check. But who? He knew from a glance that Yousef had been dead for a while. Even if someone inside the Customs Department had been informing Santana of their movements, no one knew his contacts.

Except Stucky. If Stucky had been Santana’s inside man, why had he been killed? Nothing made sense.

“Wait here,” he instructed.

Her fingers clenched around his before she could quell the panic and release his hand. He flagged the first cab that passed. After a thorough scan of the area, he waved her over and pushed her inside. The taxi weaved its way down the busy streets towards the Kasbah. In front of the square, he saw the perfect opportunity to get rid of her for a while. He paid the driver and ushered her over to the red kiosk.

Jack removed some money from his pocket and handed it to the teller in the booth. “What time does the tour finish?”

“The bus returns at three o’clock,” the man answered.

Lilly tugged on Jack’s arm. He asked for one ticket and noticed her blue eyes questioning his sanity. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything. You’re going on a guided tour of Tangier.”

She shook her head in violent disagreement. “Oh, no I’m not.”

The man in the booth held the ticket, waiting for the outcome of their argument. Jack pulled it out of his hand and led Lilly in the direction of the bus.

“You’re going. You’ll be safe there, and I’ll meet the bus when it returns. Just stay with the group and enjoy yourself.”

Lilly dragged her feet as if he was taking her to the dentist rather than sending her on one of the most popular sightseeing excursions in the Moroccan port city. “Jack, please. I don’t want to go by myself.”

He tipped an imaginary hat and broke out in a perfect Bogart imitation. “If you don’t get on that bus you’ll regret it. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow. But soon—and for the rest of your life.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “That’s Casablanca, you idiot. This is Tangier.”

 
“Close enough. Come on. Get on the bus.”

A blonde, middle-aged tourist in desperate need of a bleach job grabbed onto her arm and beamed happily. “Isn’t this exciting, dearie? The mysteries of Africa and the romance of Morocco.”

“Ah, baby. And you were afraid you wouldn’t make a friend,” Jack said, flashing his heart-melting smile at the woman.

“I’ll take good care of your wife,” the woman promised, taking hold of Lilly as if she were an orphaned child.

The look Lilly sent him said he would pay for this. At least he knew she’d be safe, if not completely bored, for the next seven hours.

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Try not to miss me, baby.”

“It will be a struggle, honey, but I’ll do my best,” Lilly forced out with saccharine sweetness.

“You can relax, young man. Auntie Pearl will chaperone your wife until you return for her.”

“Don’t worry, lady. I have the only key to her chastity belt,” Jack muttered as he walked away. By the end of the tour, when he returned to pick up Lilly, she would be ready to kill him. He waited on the corner as the bus pulled away from the curb. Lilly pressed her face to the glass window and she silently mouthed the words “help me”.

When he got his laughter under control, he stopped in the nearest tourist office to check flight schedules to New York. He would have to return on a commercial airline,
 
regardless of the danger. Santana obviously knew they survived the explosion, so sneaking her back was moot. He used his credit card to charge two tickets for the following evening. Afterwards, he placed a call to his boss to arrange for back up at the airport when they arrived.

With all the arrangements finished, he found an out-of-the-way hotel and booked a room for the night, then spent the day sitting in the park across the street to see if anyone paid a call. He was relatively sure they hadn’t been followed after leaving the shop. The gunman knew when to cut his losses before a crowd gathered. At two-thirty, he returned to the town center and waited for Lilly’s tour bus to return.

* * * *

“And then my third husband, George, left me after only three months of marriage,” Pearl continued on her life story.

“Oh, that’s terrible.” Lilly tried to inject interest and sympathy into her voice. The poor man probably wanted some peace and quiet.

The fact that the tour guide was still describing the sights in the area didn’t stop Pearl from talking. As they visited the ornate mosques, with their curving arches and filigreed arabesques, Lilly tried to learn as much about Moorish architecture as she did about Pearl’s many husbands.

The scenic trip took them from Tangier to the outskirts of Ceuta, where the Moors began their conquest of Spain, just nine miles across the Straits of Gibraltar. Even the stark beauty of the Atlas Mountains rising above the haze in the distance couldn’t gain her full attention. She wanted to enjoy the trip, but her mind wandered to Jack.

She knew he could blend in easier without her, but she couldn’t keep from worrying about him. What if he tried to find the killer on his own? She pressed her hands against her churning stomach.

“The water,” Pearl said, patting Lilly’s hunched shoulder.

Lilly glanced up. “I beg your pardon?”

“You shouldn’t drink the water here. No matter. We’re almost back.”

A quick look at her watch confirmed Pearl’s announcement. Five minutes later, they arrived at the Kasbah. What if Jack hadn’t returned? She searched the area from the window but found no sign of him.

Her talkative companion smiled. “He’ll be here. Why don’t we get a cup of coffee and wait for him?”

“I’d rather walk around for a while,” Lilly declined politely. “I have to stretch my legs.”

She scooted off the bus before Pearl could collect her many souvenir purchases and catch up. Jack had instructed her go to the cafe, but she couldn’t sit down and do nothing. At least walking the parameters of the park gave her something to do.

The floral scent of jasmine filled the air. Many young couples, both foreign and Moroccan, strolled along the footpaths making her feel like an intruder. A lonely intruder. Catching sight of a couple ahead of her, locked in an embrace, she stepped off the path and hid behind a tree.

She heard the rustling of leaves but before she could turn, she was grabbed from behind. A strong hand covered her mouth, cutting off her cry for help.

For a fleeting moment, her heart stopped, followed by a rapid beating that left her dizzy. She struggled to break free, but the strength of her assailant was too great. He pulled her against his chest, leaving her little leverage to move. She finally wrestled one hand free and dug her fingernails into the arms that circled her.

The sharp intake of breath echoed in her ear. “Pull your claws back.”

The deep voice registered in her brain. The hand across her mouth slid down to her shoulder, and she sucked in a large gulp of air. “Jack?”

He turned her loose and checked the cuts on his arm. “You go for my blood every time.”

A shudder of relief washed over her. “You scared me to death.”

“I told you to stay around people.” “So you decided to punish me?”

He lifted his eyebrows several times and made a honking sound similar to that of Harpo Marx. “No. I wanted to grope you in the bushes.”

“What?” As the words sunk in, her jaw dropped. The man was not sane.

She wanted to smack the cocky grin from his face, but he looked so devastating when he smiled. “I’ve put my life in the hands of a lunatic.”

“I told you, your body makes me crazy. And you want me too.”

She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Don’t be too sure of that.”

He rubbed his hand over the scratches on his arm. “Why else would you leave your marks all over me like a cat marking her territory?”

“That one,” she said, tracing her finger along the scar on his cheek, “was for kidnapping me. And the others,” she added, tenderly touching the fresh cuts, “were for seven hours of Auntie Pearl.”

His hearty laugh was unrepentant. “Let’s go get something to eat. We have a few things to discuss.”

“Like what?” she asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Not on an empty stomach.” As if sensing her fear, he draped his arm across her shoulder and planted a kiss on her cheek. “It’s going to be fine.”

Jack found a little outdoor restaurant overlooking the harbor that catered to tourists. Even without the traditional flowing caftans, they drew little attention to themselves. Lilly left the ordering in his hands after he groaned when she asked for a cheeseburger. A table full of different kinds of salads and dips were laid out for them, most of which she had never seen before.

“Even among the Arabs, Moroccan cooking is considered to be the finest in the world.” He dipped a small chuck of crusty bread in a plate of tahini spread and offered it to her. “Try it.”

The tangy taste of the sesame butter lingered after she swallowed. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to another plate.

“Couscous. It’s like farina, but not sweet. I realize it’s not corn and beef steak, but this isn’t Iowa, either.”

“I’ve noticed.” She dipped her fork into the mound of couscous and took a bite. Her soft sigh of appreciation caught Jack’s full attention. “What did you want to tell me?”

He dropped the airline tickets on the table in front of her. She lifted them and read the date. “Tomorrow night?”

 
“Yes.”

“A commercial airline?”

“I called my boss to arrange back up at the airport when we arrive. I booked us a hotel room for the night just down the street.”

“In another twenty-four, hours we’ll be on our way home.” The idea filled her with excitement and terror at the same time.

“In another twenty-four hours we’ll be home.”

“Huh? The time difference is only six hours.”

 
“We’re leaving tonight.”

Confused, she glanced at the tickets again. “Tomorrow night, you mean.”

“No. Right after dinner we’ll go to the airport and wait on stand-by for the first flight we can get to New York.”

“Then why did you buy these tickets?”

“The same reason I called in and arranged for back up. So that whoever is looking for us will be waiting in the airport tomorrow night, either here or in New York.”

At that moment, she appreciated his devious mind. She attacked her dinner with new enthusiasm, eating until she thought she would bust.

“Should we go now?” she asked, as she placed the napkin on the table.

“I have one more thing to do before we leave for the airport.”

“What?”

“Today is Sunday.” He said the day as if it held some kind of significance that she failed to catch.

“So?”

He checked his watch and broke out in a wide grin. “I have to call your father in another ten minutes. Do you have any messages for him?”

 
“Can I talk to him?” she asked hopefully.

“I don’t know. We’ll see how persuasive you can be on the walk to a public phone booth.”

“Mr. Murphy. I could charm the pants off of you if I put my mind to it.”

He leaned across the table and whispered, “You could do that without putting your mind to it.”

Jack paid the check, and they walked the three blocks to the nearest public phone. She waited impatiently for him to place the trans-Atlantic call with his calling card.

“Hello, John. It’s Jack Murphy … yes sir, she’s fine … what’s that … no, she seems to be eating well … you were right, sir, she is stubborn and mule-headed.” The tip of Lilly’s sneaker connected with his ankle, and he grunted into the receiver. “However, you forgot to mention that she was vicious and very strong for a half-pint.”

“Give me the phone, Jack,” Lilly demanded.

“Just a minute, John. There’s some interference with the line.” He held the receiver well out of her grasp and reveled in her frustration.