Out of the Shadows (14 page)

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Authors: Melanie Mitchell

BOOK: Out of the Shadows
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“Actually, Meredith Woodward was my ninth-grade English teacher. I had a ferocious crush on her. But, today, you’re Meredith Woodward, and you’re vacationing in Kenya with your family. Let me think.” He contemplated possibilities. “Okay. You’re from Birmingham, Alabama, and—”

“Birmingham?” she interrupted.

“Yes. The accent is similar, and it will take you farther from the nurse from Texas.”

She threw up her hands in resignation. “Okay,” she sighed. “I’m Meredith Woodward from Birmingham, vacationing with my family. Where are we staying, if I might ask?”

“You’re staying at the Mara Serena. It’s a well-known lodge in the Masai Mara, and very expensive.”

“Fine.” She sighed again. “Anything else?”

He gave her a grin. “Act like you adore me.”

“What?”

The driver reacted slightly to her exclamation, and Ben frowned at her, indicating that she needed to keep her voice down. In hushed tones, he expounded, “You know. Look at me longingly... Be kinda touchy-feely... Giggle a lot.”

She stared at him in disbelief.
“Giggle?”

“Sure. Act like a flighty, witless female. Pretend you’re in a play. Look, it’ll be fun.”

She shook her head but then replied, “Okay, Ben. Whatever. You want adoring and witless, you’ll get adoring and witless.”

“Okay, good,” he said of her declaration. But as Leslie watched his response, she caught something in his expression. Although he seemed relieved that she’d agreed to the charade, he could not completely hide a trace of worry.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

B
ECAUSE
IT
WAS
S
UNDAY
, the lobby of the office building was deserted except for a security guard sitting behind a high desk. Like many residents of Mombasa, he appeared to be of South Asian descent. Ben led Leslie to the desk and spoke to the guard in a language she didn’t recognize. It was more abrasive and much less melodious than the local tongues. The guard made a call and, after apparently confirming their appointment, he hung up the receiver. He pointed to the elevators behind the security desk and gave Ben instructions. Ben responded politely.

As they turned toward the elevator bank, the guard smiled shyly at Leslie and said, “Welcome, miss. Have a nice visit.”

Ben had warned Leslie to avoid speaking too candidly in the building, because there was a possibility microphones were scattered about, but she could not curb her curiosity. As they entered the elevator, she asked, “What language was that? It wasn’t Swahili, and it didn’t sound like the local dialects.”

“Urdu,” Ben answered. “It’s one of the most common languages of Pakistan. But most of the Pakistani people who live here speak English, too.”

“Oh” was the only response Leslie could make before the elevator stopped. A young man of about thirty was waiting as the door opened directly into a reception area. He was well dressed in a gray suit with a colorfully patterned silk tie.

The man smiled broadly. “Ah, Ben!” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “It’s very good to see you again.” He held out his hand. His black eyes were small and seemed somewhat disproportionate for his face. Despite that, he was a very good-looking man.

Ben clasped his hand warmly. “Kareem, my friend,” he responded. “It is my distinct pleasure to visit with you and your esteemed uncle again.”

Kareem turned to consider Leslie. “And who is the beautiful lady you have brought with you to brighten our dull afternoon?”

The intense stare the man turned upon Leslie was disquieting.

Ben answered smoothly. “This lovely lady is a new friend of mine, Miss Meredith Woodward. We met a few days ago, and she consented to keep me company on the long trip to Mombasa.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I warned her that I had a meeting this afternoon, but she informed me that she wouldn’t mind waiting while we conduct business.”

Kareem bowed slightly to Leslie. “How do you do, Miss Woodward? I am Kareem Rasheesh. It is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He held out his hand as he had with Ben, and his gaze seemed less formidable.

Leslie placed the fingers of her right hand in his, and when he lifted it to his lips, she affected a giggle. Trying to follow Ben’s instructions, Leslie raised her hand to partially cover her exposed throat in a gesture of shy embarrassment and smiled sweetly. With a slightly exaggerated Southern accent, she answered, “And I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Rasheesh.”

Leslie continued in her soft drawl, “I sure do hope y’all don’t mind me tagging along with Ben. I promise I’ll just sit out here in the waiting room and not bother a single thing.”

Kareem’s eyes were riveted on the hand that rested on her sternum, and it was a moment before he responded. “There is no problem at all, Miss Woodward. My uncle and I welcome you to wait here.”

He reluctantly returned his attention to Ben, and while they exchanged a few more words of greeting, Leslie studied their surroundings. They were standing in a reception area that was sparsely but expensively furnished. In the center was a small desk made of some intricately carved dark wood, possibly ebony. The desk held a telephone, a closed laptop and a notepad and pencils. Leather chairs and low tables were grouped on both sides of the desk, resting on beautiful Oriental rugs.

With one hand, Kareem indicated the chair farthest away from the door to the inner offices. “Miss Woodward, please have a seat. I trust that our meeting will not take long.”

Leslie sat down obediently, then crossed her legs. Ben felt a surge of irritation when Kareem watched intently as Leslie’s dress parted where it had been unbuttoned, exposing one leg to midthigh before she discreetly pulled the skirt across it. Ben cleared his throat and said with excessive respect, “Kareem, we must not keep your uncle waiting.”

Slightly reprimanded, Kareem nodded and led Ben to the door at the end of the reception area. Following a few steps back, Ben glanced at Leslie and gave a slight frown of consternation. She wrinkled her nose in response, and he winked before turning to accompany Kareem. The inner door closed behind the two men, and Leslie was left alone.

Time crawled. There were no books or magazines to look through, so she was forced to simply sit quietly. She could hear the men’s voices through the closed door, but she wasn’t able to discern what was said. Once, the discussion grew heated, with angry words being exchanged, but the voices quieted quickly. Since Leslie didn’t have her watch, she was unsure how much time passed, but she surmised that nearly an hour had gone by when the door finally opened.

Kareem emerged first, followed closely by Ben. Both men were smiling while continuing a conversation that had apparently started inside the office. A third man was a few paces behind Ben—he seemed to be listening absently to the exchange. Happy to have an excuse to move, Leslie stood, drawing the attention of all three men.

Kareem abruptly stopped the discussion with Ben and spoke to the other man with considerable deference. “Uncle, please allow me to introduce our other guest.” He led the older man to where Leslie waited. “This is Mr. Murphy’s friend, Miss Meredith Woodward. Miss Woodward, this is my esteemed uncle, Shamir Rasheesh.”

The elder Mr. Rasheesh was about fifty. He had a thick mustache and black hair that was liberally peppered with gray. Like his nephew, his eyes were small and very dark. As Kareem had done earlier, the uncle delicately bowed his head to lightly kiss her hand, and Leslie felt a chill run up her spine. It was a work of supreme will not to wrench her hand away but to allow it to drop naturally to her side. Looking into his sharp, black eyes, she sensed an undercurrent of malevolence. Never before had she felt such a deep, intuitive fear.

“How do you do, Miss Woodward?” he said. “It’s truly a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” His voice was deep and beautiful, and his perfect English suggested an American education.

To hide her aversion, she concentrated on maintaining Meredith’s affectations. With the hand that had just been kissed, she pushed her hair away from her face and said with only a touch of nervousness, “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mr. Rasheesh. And my goodness gracious, there was no problem waiting for you men to finish with your important business.” She shrugged daintily, drawing all three men’s attention to her open bodice.

“Have you enjoyed your visit to our lovely country, Miss Woodward?” the elder Rasheesh inquired.

“Oh my, yes!” she exclaimed. “Why, we went on a safari for three days and saw just all sorts of animals.” She giggled and looked at the two men through widened eyes. “Why, I have to admit I was scared out of my wits when we saw the lions in the Mossy Mara.” She deliberately mispronounced the name of the renowned animal park. “They looked big and mean... I felt like they wanted me for dinner!”

Kareem joined the conversation. “Will you be staying much longer, Miss Woodward?”

“Just a few more days, I’m afraid. My daddy has to get back home to his medical practice in Alabama. He’s an anesthesiologist, you know, and very busy.”

For the first time, Leslie looked directly at Ben, who had moved to stand beside her. His expression was casually detached, but she saw faint signs of strain behind his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Anxious to leave, she turned to the pilot and said with a pout, “Ben, honey, I’m hungry. You promised we could eat at a lovely restaurant and then go dancing when you got through with your business. Besides, we’ve kept that nice little taxi driver waiting for a long time.”

Ben was standing on her right side, and as she was speaking, she moved toward him. In keeping with her Meredith persona, she placed her left hand on his left biceps and slid her right hand between his upper arm and chest, intending to take his arm in what she hoped would be interpreted as a clingy, possessive embrace. But as she slipped her right arm through his, the back of her hand brushed against something large, hard and unmoving under his jacket. It took only a heartbeat to register that the object she had touched was a gun.

Ben felt the slight movement of the leather shoulder holster. Fearing that Leslie might jerk her hand away in response to contact with the weapon, he reacted instantaneously. He tensed his arm and pulled it to his side, discreetly pinning her hand between his arm and ribs. Simultaneously, he turned toward her and clasped both of her hands with his right one, patting them reassuringly. There was a smile on his lips but a glimmer of warning in his eyes as he responded in a carefree tone, “I know you’re anxious, gorgeous. I’m starving, too. But mostly I need a drink.”

Inadvertently touching the gun had startled Leslie. In all of her travels with Ben, she had never known him to carry a handgun. She was aware that he had a shotgun in the airplane, and she had seen a rifle in his cabin, but that was normal for rural Kenya. Even the Merdians and Mama Joe kept shotguns handy.

Confused and alarmed, she grew more impatient by the second—she wanted to be removed from whatever “business” was being conducted at this place and she wanted to get away from the men.
All
of the men. Her attention was drawn to the warning look in Ben’s eyes, however. She understood; she would have to play the scene through.

Dropping his right hand but holding her firmly at his side with his left arm, he turned back to address the two men. He nodded and smiled graciously. It occurred to Leslie, as she witnessed the exchange, that Ben’s smile held a peculiar combination of deference and threat. She sensed a stark ruthlessness in him that she’d only glimpsed before.

When she focused back on the room, she heard the elder Rasheesh addressing Ben. “And I am certain there will be no problems with the shipment. I look forward to your visit in ten days.”

With that, the man turned back to Leslie. “Miss Woodward, if you are ever again in Mombasa, you must come to see me and my nephew. It would be our distinct pleasure to show you more of the city.” His tone was not quite sincere.

She licked her lips and tried to give a little giggle, but it sounded flat to her own ears. “Why, thank you, Mr. Rasheesh. I’m not sure if we’ll get to come back. I really want to go to England on our next vacation. The food is not very good, but the shopping is simply to die for.”

The elder Mr. Rasheesh idly nodded his head in a gesture of fluid dismissal and motioned for the couple to precede him and his nephew to the elevator. In contrast, Kareem looked at her with poorly disguised lust as Ben stood aside for Leslie to enter the elevator. Ben gave a final nod and said, “I will be in touch,” as the door closed. Finally removed from the penetrating stares, Leslie stepped away from Ben and closed her eyes. He watched her from the slight distance and whispered, “Not yet, honey. Don’t lose focus yet.”

She glanced back at him and nodded. The door opened, and Ben put his arm around her. Playfully, he said in a rather loud voice, “Come on, baby, I’ll show you the town.” He led her through the front door and onto the steps leading to the street. The taxi driver, who’d been waiting nearby, had obviously spotted them and was waiting at the curb.

Ben tightened his arm around the young woman and said in a serious voice, “There’s one more scene we need to play.” With that, he took her in a hard embrace and kissed her deeply.

Eager to do virtually anything to expedite their departure, Leslie allowed herself to be pulled into his arms and didn’t resist when his lips closed upon hers. For the benefit of anyone watching, she responded with the passion she believed the flighty Meredith would exhibit.

Ben had intended the kiss to be a ruse to further delude any of Rasheesh’s men into thinking he was a womanizing rake, more interested in his conquest than business. He’d been confident throughout the afternoon that he was in total control. But Leslie’s response took him by surprise, and in seconds he became lost in her warmth.

Leslie felt the change in Ben and recognized what had occurred. Given their current circumstances, his response was serious. Deftly, Leslie pulled out of the embrace and placed both hands on Ben’s chest in what she hoped would appear to be a caress. Under her breath, she said, “Get me out of here
now!
I’ve learned more than I want to know about the people you work with. Take me back to Namanga.”

In a manner she hoped would be construed as teasing, she patted his cheek, then turned toward the taxi and climbed in.

Leslie’s words worked like a bucket of cold water thrown in Ben’s face. Effortlessly reverting to the role of alcoholic playboy, he responded by laughing heartily as he got into the taxi. Without looking at Leslie, he told the driver to take them to the Hotel Splendid.

Leslie was about to protest when he silenced her with a raised hand. Looking straight ahead rather than at her, he quietly explained, “We’ll go to the bar and stay for a few minutes. Then we’ll take another cab to the airport.”

She nodded, then turned to stare out the window, sitting as far away from Ben as she could. She was no longer interested in the colorfully charming city. She had heard snippets of rumors about Ben’s “activities” but had not wanted to believe them. Now she had seen firsthand the type of men he worked with. She wasn’t exactly sure what had been discussed at the meeting, but she recognized evil. She didn’t believe Ben was evil, but there could no longer be any doubt that he was motivated by greed and dealt with truly bad men. So what did that make him?

A single tear slipped out of her eye and down her cheek unhindered.

* * *

B
EN
AND
L
ESLIE
spoke very little during the next several hours. As planned, they spent a few minutes at the bar in the Hotel Splendid, both choosing to drink coffee. After a taxi ride to the airport, they were ready to take off before six o’clock. The timing had been close, however. It would be dusk before they landed at Namanga.

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