Fever (13 page)

*

“Sara?” Zak called as she walked toward her tent. “Sara, the construction materials are on the way. The truck should be here in about—” When she saw the slip of paper sticking out of the canvas flap, she cursed under her breath, already sensing something she wouldn’t like.

She uncurled the note and read:

Zak,

I’ve gone to take care of the fees and permits. Will be back soon. Wait for the materials as you’ve planned. Don’t worry. And don’t be mad.

Sara

Waving the note in the air, she asked Ben, “Did you know about this? Did she talk to you about it this morning?”

He shook his head.

“She’s gone—to take care of things herself. I’ve never met such a stubborn and independent woman. How did I get into this mess?”

“You chose it.”

Zak read the note again, hoping it might give her a clue of what Sara had been thinking. “She doesn’t know anything about the country—how to travel, who to contact, nothing.”

“I believe Miss Sara is strong. She will find her way.”

Zak grabbed a small backpack, filled it with bottled water and snacks, and threw it over her shoulder. “Well, I don’t plan to sit here all day and hope for the best. I’m going after her. Will you be okay waiting for the building materials?”

Ben nodded and started to say something else.

“I know what you’re thinking. If I’d told her the truth, this might not have happened. I’m not so sure.”

“I will call when she returns.” Ben gave her one of his you-don’t-know-anything-about-women looks and returned to his breakfast cleanup.

Zak mumbled under her breath as she climbed into the truck and drove toward the road. “With my luck she’s gotten a ride in a matatu and has already been robbed, assaulted, and dumped by the side of the road.”

She drove over the rutted roads like she was on a racetrack, the truck bouncing from side to side. She focused on the path ahead of her, scanning the savannah for any conveyance that might have given Sara a ride. It had been just over an hour since she left, but many things could happen in Africa in that time. Why didn’t Sara trust her or at least respect the warnings she’d given her?

Zak had been very specific about the dangers of riding in a matatu, the small vans that teenagers and unlicensed taxi drivers used. These people were reckless and their vehicles had not been inspected for proper equipment to transport passengers. Often the drivers operated while dangerously overloaded just for more money. To make matters worse, thieves and rapists utilized the matatu to find victims. The papers were full of these incidents daily.

Worst-case scenarios played in Zak’s mind as she veered off the road to dodge a goat. If anything happened to Sara, she’d never forgive herself. The woman was a royal pain in the ass, but she wasn’t quite the spoiled rich girl Zak dubbed her when they met. She’d proved that she wasn’t just a pretty face. Sara didn’t back down from a challenge and she didn’t expect other people to handle her problems. And if her interaction with the police lieutenant was any indication, Sara was also a pretty good negotiator. She read people very well, too well in some instances.

Zak remembered their plane ride from London, and a wave of anxiety and desire swept through her like heat bouncing off the plains. She didn’t understand what about this woman captivated her. She’d tried to blame her response on lack of sleep and residual feelings about the assignment with Gwen, but neither of those rang true. But she had to find Sara and keep her safe.

Her phone rang and she grabbed it, praying Ben was calling to report that Sara had returned. Captain Stewart’s gravelly voice killed that hope.

“Ebony, how are things going?”

“Uh, well.”

“That good, huh? I heard this girl was a handful. As long as you haven’t lost her in the bush country.” Zak used her customary silence and waited for Stewart to fill the gap. “Anything I can do for you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. There’s some sort of rivalry for land in this area. Sara, I mean, Ms. Ambrosini, believes she has permission to build her school here, but that may not be the case. Can you have someone look into it and get back to me? It’s possible the dispute is between two corporations with ties to the government.”

“This is supposed to be a pie job. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I’m not sure yet. We’ve already had the fees, plans, and permits mysteriously disappear, along with a visit from a hefty police squad.”

Silence on Stewart’s end indicated that Zak had provided too much information. “Is this related to your past with a certain police commander?”

“I hope not, but it’s possible.”

Stewart cleared his throat with a rumble Zak had come to recognize as a precursor to an attempt at authority. “Do I need to replace you? You’re not exactly objective when it comes to Wachira.”

“I’m fine, really. Just get back to me soon with the information. And thanks, Captain.”

Stewart disconnected without further comment, but Zak had a feeling her cushy escort job had just been upgraded to active-case status. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Sara, but she wasn’t happy about having her involved in any aspect of a Company mission. Zak checked the County Development Office for Sara first. The painstaking task of retrieving information from a clerk, who referred her to her boss, who had to get permission from another boss, took far longer than Zak imagined. She had to wait until after the lunch break for verification that Sara had been in and even longer to confirm that she had refiled the architectural plans, resubmitted the necessary permits, and paid the fees. Each step of the process involved another clerk. No one knew how she arrived or left.

Next she staked out the police station, choosing to observe from a distance instead of go inside. She wasn’t ready to face Wachira and didn’t want to further jeopardize Sara or her work. The small strip of stores near the station had very little activity and no one who even slightly resembled her wayward charge. Her patience wearing thin, she called the police station and asked if Sara had been arrested. The officer who answered gave her an ominous reply, “Not yet.”

She called the hospitals close enough to serve the area, but Sara had not been treated or admitted. What good was it to be part of an international group of spooks if she couldn’t find one missing woman? She could have Stewart access Sara’s sat phone and get a location. But that would require giving her boss more information than she wanted. It was best to handle this one alone. Besides, she’d called her phone and it went straight to voicemail. She’d probably turned it off, in which case a locator wouldn’t help. And it wasn’t like she was trying to find someone in New York City or London. There were only so many places a lone white female could go. Eventually someone would notice her and Zak would get word. As long as she wasn’t hurt. The thought made her stomach lurch.

It was late afternoon and the sun was already low in the sky when she started driving back to the campsite. Ben hadn’t called, which meant Sara hadn’t returned. How could she go back without her, without any idea where she might be or if she was okay? The restraint that had kept her calm throughout the day slipped, and Zak felt something akin to loss. She hadn’t allowed that feeling in years. It was suddenly too fresh and too powerful. She stopped in the middle of the road and pounded the steering wheel until the pain inside changed to rage. Anger, she could handle. Anger was easy. It swept through her, consuming everything except the destructive urges to lash out, contain, and deny.

Zak had no idea how long she sat in the roadway willing herself to bury the emotions Sara Ambrosini had forced back into her consciousness. In three years no one had elicited such a response. No one had come close to breaking the code that gave access to her feelings. How had Sara gotten so close so quickly and, more importantly, without her permission? But Sara obviously didn’t require her permission. It seemed that she came and went at will—into Zak’s professional life, into her African world, into her thoughts, deeper into her life—and then out. Where was she?

As dusk milked the last rays of light from the sky, Zak cranked the truck and started again toward camp. She had no idea how to face Ben with the news about Sara. He thought Zak was capable of anything. And what would she say to Randall Burke about losing his benefactor? When she topped the hill overlooking their tent site, Zak slammed on the brakes and the truck skidded in the sand before stopping too close to the Talek River.

Sara and Ben stood in front of a large fire surrounded by a group of men who were shouting and waving their arms. Zak’s instincts took over. Her friends were in danger.

Sara watched Zak slide out the driver’s side of the truck and roll into the bushes. The long rifle she kept behind the truck seat was slung over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure if Ben saw Zak snaking through the underbrush like a commando, but she needed to warn the men who stood around her before—

The rat-a-tat of automatic-weapon fire echoed through the darkening sky. “Hands up,” Zak ordered.

The group of startled men did as they were told while Ben and Sara just stared and shook their heads.

“What?”

“Put the weapon away, GI Jane,” Sara said. “They come in peace.” She couldn’t imagine Zak acting so irrationally. The woman she’d met on the plane was calm and cool under the worst of circumstances, but twice since they’d arrived in Africa, Zak had overreacted. Was she trying to protect her? The thought warmed and confused Sara, but right now it looked like Zak wanted to kill her.

“Who are these people, Ben?” Zak asked.

“Miss Sara found them to help with the school.” He waved his arms toward the group. “They need work, Joey and his friends.”

“Where are the building materials?” Zak still addressed Ben, refusing to look at Sara.

“Truck broke down. Be here tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry.” Zak directed this comment toward the puzzled-looking men and walked back toward the river.

“Zak, wait.” Sara ran after her but her longer legs kept her well ahead. “Would you wait, please? We need to talk.”

Zak whirled, her face an ivory, expressionless cast. “Actually, we don’t.” Her muscles were tense, hands balled at her sides, and her entire body seemed to vibrate with suppressed energy. The blue of her eyes had turned to cool steel and pierced Sara with their intensity.

“I messed up today, and I’m sorry.” She would’ve tried anything to get Zak to talk to her, and groveling seemed appropriate.

“Not now, Sara.”

“You can’t keep doing this, you know.”

“Doing what?”

“Walking away every time you feel something, burying your emotions, pretending they don’t exist.” She was right. The shocked look in Zak’s eyes was verification enough. But saying it aloud was a mistake. That damned curse.

Zak’s cold stare almost made her back down, but Sara recognized it as just another layer of protection.

“You have no idea what I feel.”

Sara turned her palms to the sky in her Italian family’s symbol of eureka. “Exactly, and that’s my point. If we’d talked about what’s going on with you, I wouldn’t have felt it necessary to handle everything on my own. I respond to trust and openness, not ultimatums and secrets.” The fight drained from Sara as she remembered the pictures of Rikki. “Besides, I could’ve used someone to talk to tonight.” She started to walk away, then turned back. “I’m sorry again that I left without telling you. And I’m sorry you were worried.” Sara ran from her and didn’t look back.

The large canvas enclosure felt like a circus tent as Sara lit the lanterns and looked around. She paced back and forth, trying to gain some sense of self in a vast country that made her feel insignificant. This trip had caused only difficulty and chaos. The moment she’d left London her girlfriend started screwing around. Since meeting Zak Chambers she’d done nothing but annoy, disobey, and upset her. Even her work was delayed by lost paperwork and greedy officials. Maybe all this was a sign to forget the school, go back home, and start over.

But she couldn’t leave without fulfilling her mother’s final wish. That was unacceptable. The school meant too much to her mother, the foundation, and the children of Kenya. She owed her parents more than a symbolic gesture. Quitting would imply that a few problems were stronger than her determination. She’d never given up so easily, and this wasn’t the time to start. Her personal issues would have to wait. No matter how uncomfortable she was or how awkward Zak felt, she was in until the end.

“Sara?”

The soft, husky voice that usually caused goose flesh stopped Sara’s frenzied pacing. Zak’s tone was reverent, almost pleading, and it wrenched at Sara’s heart. “Yes.”

“May I come in, please?”

Sara unzipped the flap and stood back, allowing her entry. As Zak stepped inside, her distinctive fragrance of fresh rainwater and sea salt tickled Sara’s nostrils. How did she manage such a scent in the middle of dust, sweat, and flies? The question was as intriguing as the woman.

“What is it, Zak?” Sara wasn’t in the mood for games. If Zak had something to say, she’d have to do it on her own. She deserved that much. She sat down on a folding metal chair and watched Zak stroll the length of the canvas-clad room. As she walked, her muscles began to relax and she slouched ever so slightly. It took all Sara’s energy to keep from asking questions to help her get to the point. But Sara sensed this was important and something Zak needed to handle alone.