Garage Sale Diamonds (Garage Sale Mystery) (26 page)

Ahmed stared at Abdul, dumbstruck. This man’s words changed all he thought he knew about his early life. He believed what the school told him but saw now that all of it was false.

Was anything he believed true? All his information came from other people. He had accepted this until Khadija urged him to question authority and think for himself.

His mother’s voice pushed forward in his consciousness: “Avenge our undeserved deaths.” Yet rather than avenging his parents, he’d furthered their murderers’ goals with every breath he drew.

Ahmed stood with effort, holding the edge of the table for support. “Thank you, Abdul for…for telling the true story and…for your rescue.” But deep in his mind the recipients of vengeance for his parents’ murders now wore new faces: Abdul and the Great Leader for whom Ahmed saw he’d become a terrorist errand boy. “Please allow me a moment to absorb this information.”

His mind raced. He couldn’t show any behavior changes or the cell would eliminate him. He must appear as dedicated as ever while evolving into a different person. He sat down again, wiping his hand across his brow. “This is a remarkable story, Abdul. I did not realize the depth of our Great Leader’s planning. I am more dedicated than ever since you told me this today.”

“And I am twice honored by Allah, blessings upon Him, first to play even a small role in guiding that five year old on a path to his position of such leadership and, second, to fight by his side to strike mortal blows against the great Satan’s side.”

“Please pick me up here at 8:30 for our meeting at 9:00 with the entire cell again tomorrow at your place of business. I will reveal more information about our plot against America, for the time comes very soon now. I will phone the others to attend.”

• • •

Heba leaned against the kitchen wall beside the closed door. Once again, she heard everything said in the adjacent dining room.

61

Sunday, 8:03 AM

“Do we smell bacon?” Hannah asked as she and Adam strolled into the kitchen fully dressed. “Morning, Mom…Dad.”

Jason waved a slice of toast in the air as Jennifer said, “Good morning to you. Yes, it is bacon—the special applewood smoked brand Dad likes.” She pointed along the counter to fruit and Krispy Kreme donuts, “And here’s more you might add to it.”

“You look dressed and ready to roll,” Jason observed.

“Busy day ahead for us at the farm,” Hannah said as they filled their plates. “We’re heading home soon to accomplish what we can.”

“Thanks again for rushing over here last night. Funny how it worked out; we baby-sat the Grands and you police-sat us.” They laughed at this twist.

Adam spoke with concern. “When we leave, so will the police cruiser out front. Even if it discouraged somebody last night, you’re on your own today. Please be careful. Hannah will give me no peace if she thinks you’re in danger. Your decisions in the next few days could affect your safety. Make good ones.”

“We certainly don’t want trouble,” Jason agreed. “Once we figure this out we can better reduce risks. You might be a key player here, Adam, telling us if-and-when police learn more clues.”

They finished breakfast and exchanged good-bye hugs. Jennifer walked them to the car and waved as they drove away. Back inside, she resumed reading the Sunday Washington Post as she waited for Becca to appear.

“Maybe we could just take the Grands with us,” she suggested to Jason.

“Where?”

“On the elephant hunt.”

“Oh, that. I thought you planned to press Becca into nannying. Did I get that right?”

“What if she sleeps ‘til noon? I’m getting antsy already. Why don’t we take the kids on a Sunday ride? Alicia might even recognize the house after remembering the elephant.”

“Are you serious about this?”

“Afraid so.”

“Can we rip them away from ‘Sponge Bob’ without consequences?”

“Why don’t I watch with them until this episode ends and then introduce the ride? I’ll take along car-bingo cards to prevent boredom.”

“Do we still have those from when our kids were little?”

“No, I found six yesterday at a garage sale.”

“Jen, Jen. Is there nothing you can’t find at one of those sales?”

“Not love, but I already found that somewhere else.” She planted a kiss on his forehead and joined the children.

Fifteen minutes later when she appeared with the children at the kitchen door, he lay down the newspaper and said with false enthusiasm. “Okay, gang, let’s go for a drive.”

Jennifer directed Jason to the community sale neighborhood, where they cruised the streets looking for the statue in each yard. They were about to give up when Jennifer cried, “Jay, is that it? Do you see an elephant?”

He looked where she pointed. “Yes, I do.” The Grands looked up from their bingo cards.

“My card has stop signs and houses and trees and other things to cover if I see them—but no elephants,” said Christine. The other Grands murmured agreement.

Jennifer couldn’t hide her excitement as they drove past the house. “That’s it! Now we know where we bought the…er, doll.” She wouldn’t mention diamonds in front of the children.

“Now we know,” he agreed. “But aren’t we interested in a house next door?

She thought about this as he drove several streets away and pulled the car to the curb.

“What next?” she wondered aloud. 

“Good question!”

“I know, let’s drive by slowly going the other way and I’ll snap pictures of all three houses.”

“What will that accomplish besides giving us more risky exposure?” Jason asked.

“We’ll have physical proof to flesh out our story when we tell the police.”

“Is telling them the next step?”

“In a way, we already have, unofficially, by letting Adam know. Should we make what we know official? I’m not sure, Jay, what do you think?”

“I think one step at a time.

“But a photo becomes another fact in proving our case, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Proving our case? What case? If the place means trouble, it’s something we don’t need.”

“I guess you’re right, but then what makes me think we need this picture?”

“Because you’re totally crazed?”

They both laughed, but she noticed he laughed longer...

“If I don’t get the pictures now, I’ll just come back to do it tomorrow.”

“I was afraid of that. Okay, let’s get it over with.” He changed the subject. “Look, kids, there’s a dog by a mailbox. Are either of those on your bingo cards?”

The Grands concentrated. “Yes, I have a dog. Thanks, Gwandaddy,” said Milo, shutting the window over that picture on his card.

“And I have a mailbox,” Alicia added. “Good job, Granddaddy.”

Jennifer put her hand on Jason’s knee. “And I have a sweetheart husband willing to play Batman while Robin uses the camera.”

Batman smiled.

62

Sunday, 9:15 AM

When Abdul left, Ahmed went to his room, phoned his cell members on an untraceable phone and announced tomorrow’s meeting. He also mentioned Mahmud’s sudden “trip” to the Middle-East.

Now he needed tools for his next task. He searched the garage without success. Who to ask? He doubted he would see Zayneb this morning and Khadija had disappeared back upstairs. He hadn’t told her about her father’s “trip,” nor Safia or Heba.

He made his way to the kitchen. Heba busied herself at the sink, looking out the kitchen window when he approached. At the sound of his voice, she immediately withdrew into her submissive shell, averting her face from him by looking at the floor.

“You don’t speak but you listen and understand. Is that right?”

She nodded.

“I am looking for some yard tools: a rake, some buckets, a shovel, a tarp and so on. I don’t see them in the garage. Could you please show me where to find them? Before he left last night on an extended trip to his homeland, Mahmud asked me to make new gardens in the back yard where his wife can grow vegetables. I’d like to start them this morning.”

Grabbing paper and pencil Heba wrote, “To the Middle-East? For how long?”

“Yes, he went early today. He won’t be back for a long time, maybe a year or more.”

Heba nodded and scurried ahead of him out the back door. She pointed to a shed.

“Thank you, Heba.”

As she returned to the house, he found what he needed in the garden tool storage area. First he measured the existing raised gardens, then selected two symmetrically pleasing locations next to them and positioned eight stakes in the ground, four for each garden and identical in size to those already there.  Not wanting to alert neighbors to his project by pounding in the stakes, he wiggled them into the soil as far as he could and braced each with bricks from the shed. Then he connected each set of four stakes with string, forming two four-foot-by-six-foot rectangles.

He skinned off the top layer of lawn in each staked area with a spade, piling the resulting sod on a plastic tarp. As quietly as possible, he used a shovel to dig one work area down about two feet, piling that soil on another plastic sheet.

He returned to the kitchen and asked Heba, “Is Khadija upstairs?” The servant nodded.

“Would you please tell her I will speak with her in the study?” Heba nodded again and hustled away, head down.

She returned with Khadija. “Good morning, Ahmed. Did you want something?”

“Yes.” He led the way to the study and closed the door after them. They sat in opposite chairs.

“Khadija, I have news about your father. An emergency in his home country needs his attention. He left early this morning on an extended trip. He doesn’t know when he will return. It may be a long time, but I will protect your family in his absence for...as long as I can stay.”

Khadija couldn’t hide her surprise but hoped she masked relief that her contentious father was temporarily out of their lives. In his absence, perhaps she and Ahmed could develop their friendship without his sour interference.

Her face lighted. “I understand.”

“Also may I ask for your help? Could you please take me to a store this morning?”

“Of course. What kind of store?”

“A store that sells nails, boards, bags of dirt and vegetable plants.

“A hardware store, but perhaps what you need is already here at the house.”

He forced a smile. “Your father promised your mother to build two raised vegetable gardens in the back yard, but he didn’t have time before leaving. To soften the news of his sudden long trip, he asked me to build them for her. I need materials to do so.”

“I’m happy to drive you there, but is fall the best time of year to start such a garden?”

He hadn’t considered this question. “Yes, because the soil I mix will settle over the winter to be ready for planting in the spring.”

“When would you like to go?”

He looked at his watch. “This morning. I am ready now.”

“I’ll get my purse. The place I will take you opens Sundays at ten, so we can leave now.”

But as they left the study, Safia appeared on the bottom stair step. Khadija crouched beside her to explain their father’s trip. The little girl began to cry, for she loved him and her privileged life as his favorite. Khadija hugged and consoled her sister. “We will have new kinds of fun together while Baba is away. For instance, after lunch we’ll go for ice cream.”

This was a treat her father didn’t allow. Even Safia grasped this immediate advantage.

“And when your Baba returns you will be his special girl just like always.” Mollified, the child dried her tears and headed for breakfast with Heba.

Already their communication felt more relaxed in her father’s absence. “Other hardware stores nearby open earlier on Sundays, but I’d like to use McLean Hardware Store. My family has shopped there for decades and I know the manager.”

Minutes later, he stifled automatic shock at riding in a car with a woman driver. He convinced himself no disapproving Muslim would see him in the passenger seat and, besides, this driving arrangement was common in America. He chafed at the inconvenience of his mandate not to drive but accepted the reason. He didn’t ask Abdul for transportation because this was a personal matter.

63

Sunday, 10:04 AM

As they drove toward the hardware store, Ahmed made conversation. “A Middle-Eastern business friend asked me what to do if he wants to stay in this country.”

“That depends upon why. He could apply for citizenship to become a legal immigrant. If he’s afraid to return to his own country because he fears his government, he might defect and ask for political asylum.”

“Would your government hide him from those he fears?”

“Hiding him is different. I think if the federal government needs evidence to prosecute certain criminal cases where a witness’s testimony causes life-threatening danger, they trade his testimony for the witness protection program.”

“Where would my friend go to find out?”

“Let’s see, if I recall correctly from my course preparations, I think witness protection comes under the Justice Department, administered by federal marshals, but a local police station should get him to the right people.”