Son Of The Sheikh. Ryshia Kennie
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Название: Son Of The Sheikh
Автор: Ryshia Kennie
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Intrigue
isbn: 9781474061971
isbn:
“They seem to be petty thieves after money and jewelry. There was quite a bit of that taken,” Ian said, breaking into his thoughts. “Three wallets and a purse are missing, but a jewelry bag in one of the suitcases holding some rather expensive jewelry was left. Odd, when it seems like a pickpocket was at work in the lobby, they miss a stash there for the taking.”
One of the police officers spotted them and came over. “You were here at the outset?” he asked Talib.
“I was. I’ve given my report,” Talib said. “Have you found anything else?”
“We’ve gotten all the physical evidence we can. Looks like the explosion was a diversionary ploy to commit a bit of petty theft.”
“None of the rooms were disturbed. In fact, there’s no evidence that the perpetrators went any farther than the main floor,” he said, addressing Ian. “We’ll be continuing with the investigation but we should be able to let you clean up the area later this afternoon.”
“Seems a little excessive for petty theft,” Talib said. He didn’t like the direction this investigation was taking. It seemed slightly off-track.
“We’ve seen it before,” the officer said, but his tone was almost defensive. He didn’t give them a chance to reply but instead moved toward where the hotel guests gathered.
He was wrong, Talib thought. The explosion as a diversion for petty theft seemed too simple. In fact, it was too simple. It was why law enforcement in Marrakech had recently gotten a bad name. Too many crimes had been stuffed under the rug. But the police had their own problems with ongoing complaints of conspiracy and corruption. That aside, there was more at work here and the police officer either didn’t know, or wasn’t admitting to.
Talib thought of the scene with the maid and the boy. He’d told no one. He wasn’t prepared to divulge what he knew. Not yet, and not to the authorities. There had been too many recent issues with the police from the firing of a corrupt member, to the bungling of a recent tourist kidnapping. He wouldn’t chance an error being made here. Far too much was at stake.
“We need to get your security one hundred percent in place, like I advised you weeks ago.” There was an edge to his voice that only matched the darkness that seemed to fill his being.
“Talib?” Ian asked. “What’s going on with you? It’s got to do with her, Sara. I knew she’d booked but...”
“You didn’t feel it necessary to tell me,” Talib said. There was no question but only a slight recrimination in his tone.
“After three years, no. Man, you haven’t been a couple for a long time.”
“And it was none of my business.”
“I suspected she had her reasons and if it had to do with you, she’d let you know.” He looked at Talib with a frown. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I was just shocked to see her.”
“Did she say why she’s here?”
“No. And I doubt if it involves a need to see the country.”
“My office,” Ian said, and it wasn’t a question. “We need to talk and it’s the only place we’ll get any privacy in this craziness.”
Talib nodded at the police officer who was monitoring the main doors to the hotel. He held up the distinctive card with its bronze-and-black flash of color that symbolized the Nassar company logo. The hotel was under lockdown but Nassar Security was well-known in Marrakech, almost as well-known as he was. Entering a scene like this was usually not an issue.
“I’m sorry.” The police officer held up his hand.
“You’re kidding me,” Talib began with a scowl. “You won’t let us back in?” This was unprecedented.
“Do you know who I am?” Ian interrupted.
“I don’t care who you are,” the police officer said. “No one’s getting in.”
“I own...”
“Get back before I have to use force.” The police officer cut off Ian’s words.
“I don’t believe this.” Ian shook his head.
Five minutes later they had worked their way through the emergency crews and around to a side entrance that wasn’t being monitored.
“Back door?” the police detective asked with an amused look as he met them a few feet from the entrance. He was in charge of the investigation and Talib had spoken to him earlier. In fact, he’d spoken to him in a number of instances on other cases in the past. He was one of the few Talib trusted. Now the officer greeted them with a frown.
“Overenthusiastic rookie wouldn’t let us in,” Talib said.
“I see.” His grimace was half smile and half resignation. “Follow me.”
“The explosive device was fairly unsophisticated,” the detective confirmed five minutes later. “Looks to me like it was meant as no more than a diversion, to get what cash and jewelry they could.” He looked at Talib, as if expecting that he’d provide some insight.
“Fortunately there were no injuries,” Ian said. “Thanks for getting us in.”
The detective gave them a brief nod. “All right, I’ll leave you gentleman to it. If I can just ask that you stay away from the luggage area where the device was detonated, at least for now. They’re still collecting evidence.”
“This wasn’t about me, was it?” Ian asked as the detective moved back into the room and into the heart of the investigation. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Get over yourself,” Talib said with a smile that held an edge of dry humor.
He looked across the room. Suitcases lay scattered in the haze of smoke that hung lazily, as shadowed tendrils still drifted through the room. Talib and Ian moved past the chaos and turned into a corridor, where Ian’s office was separated from the main flow of the hotel lobby.
“My hotel is attacked—my guests terrified and probably not apt to come back to the Desert Sands and you want me to get over myself.” Ian laughed, a dry mirthless sound that had more edge and no light-heartedness. “What happened to a little help from my friends or at least a little sympathy?”
Talib shook his head as Ian opened the door to his office. They entered a spacious, freshly painted office. New furnishings, complete with a large gleaming mahogany desk and black leather furniture, gave a solemn feel to the room. A vibrant painting full of color and reflecting the Atlas Mountains hung on the back wall and added a touch of color.
“Nice digs,” Talib said in an attempt to be casual. In reality, it was the first opportunity that he’d had to see the finished office СКАЧАТЬ