Smokescreen Page 5

  “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Eve’s brows rose. “Is there anyone you don’t know in Maldara?”

  “Not if they’re useful.” Jill handed her the cup of coffee. “Survival. You’ll only have to be there for a few weeks. But I’ve been there for two years.”

  “Two years…” Her gaze narrowed on Jill’s face. “Okay, I need to know what I’ll be facing there that I couldn’t find on Google. According to what I read, for decades Maldara has been torn by conflict between the Kiyanis to the north and Botzan to the south. The Kiyanis possessed most of the wealth in the country, which was based on rich farmlands and diamond mines. They even managed to develop a fairly stable republic in the last thirty years. The Botzans were poor by comparison, mostly mountain people, except for a decent fishing industry, and they changed rulers every couple years. The mountain population were principally made up of roving bands who made the majority of their living stealing from the Kiyanis, whom they hated. They’d been raiding the Kiyanis’ properties for years before the Kiyanis suddenly decided to go on the attack. Civil war. The Botzan faction was finally defeated by the Kiyanis after the death of that mercenary, Nils Varak, and with the help of the U.N.” She paused. “Is all of that correct? Is there anything else I should know? Is Botzan still a danger?”

  Jill shook her head. “It’s pretty well broken up now. The U.N. was getting too much static because of the Varak massacres, and they saw to it that the Kiyanis took over most of Maldara.” She grimaced. “And Zahra Kiyani, their president, is taking full advantage. She’s even charmed the U.N. into giving her the right to speak at the next General Assembly meeting.”

  “I think I read something about her. She’s a modern-day Madame Chiang Kai-shek?”

  “Yes, that’s who they’re comparing her to. But you’ll hear a lot more about her now that she’s been able to draw a breath and start taking stock. Her father, President Akil Kiyani, was assassinated six months after the conflict started, and she tearfully accepted the presidency to honor him.”

  “Sarcasm?”

  “I’m not a fan. When I interviewed her, she reminded me of Eva Peron. She’s quite beautiful and much more flamboyant, of course. But her grateful people had just erected a statue of her in the main square of the capital city of Jokan. I found that odd after a war that had almost destroyed the country.” She shrugged. “But that’s politicians. She seems to have everything under control. She’s built a hospital and gives to charity. The army and police seem to do their jobs. Everyone is fairly safe as long as they stay in the capital and don’t go running around the countryside. She might even invite you to tea. That village where the massacre occurred is just outside Jokan. She’s visited it twice and had a splendid and tearful photo op. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to attend.”

  “I don’t believe I would either.” Eve could see how that political circus would have hurt Jill. “And I’d think you’d be ready to leave Maldara. Isn’t your story almost finished?”

  “It’s finished when it’s finished. I’ll know when it’s done. Like your reconstructions.” She’d turned away and was gazing at the reconstruction of Nora on the worktable across the room. “You’ve made a lot of progress on her since yesterday. She looks close to completion.”

  “I had a lot of time to work on her. Thanks to you, I couldn’t sleep last night.” She took a sip of her coffee. “And looks can be deceiving. The final will probably take me another twenty-four hours or even longer. I’m going to need this caffeine.”

  “But I might be able to get you out before that.”

  “Wrong,” Eve said flatly. “I don’t leave until Nora’s finished and sent off to Chicago. It’s bad enough I’m having to put off other commitments, I won’t push her aside.”

  Jill nodded. “Sorry. I knew that, I just didn’t think. If you’ll give me your passport, I’ll get out of your way so you can get back to her.”

  “Fine.” Eve went to the kitchen cabinet where she and Joe kept their documents in a lockbox. “You’re being amazingly cooperative.” She handed her the passport. “I’ll call you when I’m available to leave.”

  “Cooperative?” Jill’s brows rose as she slipped the passport in her pocket. “I know how lucky I am that I talked you into going. I’m not about to rock the boat. Anything you need, just let me know.”

  “I’ll do that.” Eve gave her a cool glance. “And neither of us should pretend that luck had anything to do with your persuading me to commit to several weeks doing the reconstructions on those children. You were clever. You made sure you knew what would push every button. And you played me.”

  “Yes, I did,” Jill said quietly. “But I still consider myself lucky that you allowed me to do it. If I work hard enough to make this trip easy for you, I hope you’ll forgive me.” She smiled with an effort. “I’ll be in touch soon if you don’t mind. Just to see if there’s anything you need.” She turned and walked quickly toward the door. “In the meantime, I’ll e-mail you those names and contacts I mentioned might be useful to you.” She looked back over her shoulder. “I’m sure your Nora will turn out wonderfully. Good-bye, Eve.” Then she was gone.

  Eve stared after her for a moment. There was no reason to feel as if she had somehow hurt Jill and should try to heal the hurt. Eve was the one who had been maneuvered into throwing her life into chaos for the next few weeks. And Jill Cassidy had not even denied it was done deliberately. Yet the emotion she felt for those children had to be genuine, and where was the line drawn in the sand where brutality toward children was concerned? Eve had never found it.

  Forget Jill Cassidy. Eve had made the decision. Now she had to cope with making the best of it.

  She was still drinking her coffee as she crossed the room toward the skull on her worktable. As she’d told Jill, she’d need the caffeine.

  “Okay, Nora.” She stopped in front of the reconstruction. “We’re almost there, but now you have to help me. You’re going to have to tell me who you are, show me what to do…”

  * * *

  Jill dialed Jed Novak as she walked toward her car. “It’s done,” she said jerkily. “She’ll be ready to leave in twenty-four hours if she finishes the current reconstruction by then. I think she will. She’s driven right now.”

  “Putty in your hands, Jill?” Novak asked mockingly.

  “Don’t say that,” Jill said fiercely. “It’s stupid. She’s not putty in anyone’s hands. I made a situation impossible for her, and she’s just trying to survive it. She’s a completely private person, and she knows I probed deep to get what I wanted from her.”

  “Easy,” Novak said. “Bad joke?”

  “Very bad joke.” She stopped as she reached her car and drew a deep breath. “And a very bad meeting with a woman I admire, Novak. She’s smart, and nothing really gets past her. So you need to prepare very carefully. I’ve given her your name and a few others to pave the way. She might call you. Make her feel comfortable.” She paused. “Have you heard anything from Jokan?”

  “Not yet. Only a few rumbles. We still have time.”

  She wasn’t as sure about that as Novak. “Let me know if it changes. I’m not going to let Eve go near the place if it does.”

  “But you’d go yourself,” Novak said softly. “Who’s going to stop you, Jill?” He added wearily, “It probably wouldn’t be me. Never mind. I’ll let you know.” He cut the connection.

  No, it wouldn’t be Novak, Jill thought. She had never known anyone as tough or more ruthlessly motivated than Novak. He would get the job done no matter who fell by the wayside.

  Yet he hadn’t been ruthless after he’d taken her to that hospital in Nairobi, she suddenly remembered. He’d swept her into the ER, giving orders and making everyone snap to attention. Then he’d stayed with her, guarding her, watching that she was given the best possible attention.

  And he’d been there, moving shadowlike in the background, for the entire four days she’d been forced to spend at the damn place.

  But ther
e had been nothing shadowlike about those nights he’d sat beside her bed and fought off the dragons that attacked from the darkness. There had been moments when she had hated how strong and dominant he had been during that period when she had been so weak. But there had been other times that he had seemed her only path to survival…

  * * *

  Nairobi Hospital

  She screamed.

  Darkness.

  Pain.

  She couldn’t move!

  She was smothering!

  She sat bolt upright in the hospital bed, her hands tearing off the sheet.

  “No.” Novak was suddenly sitting on the bed beside her. “You’re fine. Only another dream, Jill.” He was holding her, rocking her back and forth. “I’m here with you. Nothing can hurt you.”

  She was clutching at him. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could hardly breathe. “I hate this.” But she couldn’t let him go yet. Another minute…Then she would be strong again.

  No, she couldn’t allow herself that time. It was another sign of weakness. She drew a deep breath and pushed him away from her. “Thank you. I’m okay now. I don’t need you any longer.” Need. How she detested that word. “In fact, I don’t know why you’re here anyway. As you said, it was only a nightmare. I’m not a child who can’t deal with bogeymen.” She leaned back against the pillows and said impatiently, “For that matter, I shouldn’t even be in this hospital. It’s been three days, Novak. I thought I’d be in and out of here in a matter of hours. Why won’t they release me?”

  “You know that besides severe bruising you had a cracked rib and a few other less obvious problems. I told them not to let you go until they could promise me that they’d done all they could for you.” He got off her bed and settled back in his chair. “I guarantee they didn’t want to break that promise. I tend to get a little testy. Now go back to sleep.” He paused. “Same nightmare?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” She was glad of the darkness. His stare was always laser sharp, and she didn’t want to face it right now. When he came to her at night, he was always only a deep, soothing voice, a strong hand that wove a barrier to keep out the weakness and the terror. “Tell them to let me leave here, Novak. I would never have come if I’d known you’d make me a prisoner. You even have a shrink coming in to talk to me every day. I don’t need all this. I’m not one of your agents. Give me a week or two on my own, and I’ll work it out for myself.”

  “No harm in getting a little therapy. The doctor says what you’re going through is PTSD. I think talking to the psychiatrist is doing you good. I’ve noticed that you’re not as tense as you were that first day.” He added, “And only one nightmare so far tonight.”

  “I can work it out for myself,” she repeated. “That’s the way it has to be. It’s my story, and I have to tell it.”

  “What?”

  She hadn’t meant to say that, it had just tumbled out. What did it matter? He had learned more intimate things about her during these last days. “When I was a kid, I had trouble understanding everything that was happening to me. But I loved books and reading, and the stories always made sense to me. There seemed to be a reason for everything, and I thought the writers had a kind of magic that could always make it that way if they tried hard enough.” She added, “And it still makes sense to me to think of myself as writing my own story, incomplete, a work in progress, but totally in control of who I am.” She shrugged. “Weird, huh?”

  “Interesting. And totally logical for a premier storyteller.”

  “And you’re probably being polite and think that I’m nuts. That’s okay, it works for me.”

  “And that’s all that’s important.”

  “See? You’re being polite. Look, you’re a busy man, you don’t need to be wasting your time on me. I’m going to leave here tomorrow and go back to Maldara.”

  “We’ll see.” He leaned forward and took her hand. “Maybe if you don’t have another nightmare tonight. So concentrate on keeping them all at bay.”

  “I’m going to leave tomorrow.” But she found her hand instinctively tightening in his grasp. He had been her anchor in the storm, and she didn’t want to let him go quite yet. She could go to sleep holding his hand as she’d done for the past three nights. She was nearly healed, but she could be with him for these next hours. She would be strong tomorrow. “No more nightmares, Novak…”

  * * *

  And the next day Novak had taken her back to Maldara, and she had started to make the plans and do the research that had brought her here to Eve Duncan.

  She looked back at the lake cottage as she got in her car. Eve was probably already working on that reconstruction. In a way, Eve reminded her of Novak as far as motivation and steely determination were concerned. But Eve lacked the kill gene that made Novak lethal. She didn’t doubt that Eve would kill to protect family or friend, but that was different.

  But she knew others who possessed that kill gene, too.

  And she and Novak were sending Eve right into their target zone.

  Chapter

  ​3

  Jokan, Maldara

  Central Africa

  Kiyani Presidential Palace

  Her hair was just right, Zahra Kiyani thought with satisfaction as she watched her maid, Dalai, straighten the strands at her temple. Her chignon was dark and sleek and shining, with just the right touch of sophistication. It accented her high cheekbones and slightly slanted eyes and made the deep gold of her skin glow. She’d wear it like this when she went to New York next week, she decided. Then everyone would realize that she was truly a woman of style and power.

  “Send her away,” Edward Wyatt said roughly from her bed across the room. “You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

  “You’ll spoil my hair.” She met his eyes in the mirror. The Honorable Edward Wyatt might be considered important to his cronies at the U.N., but she knew exactly how to control him. “And then I’ll have to have Dalai do it again. Such a waste.” He was naked and fully aroused, she noticed. She’d kept him watching her and anticipating for the last thirty minutes, and he was ready and eager for the game to begin. But she was not, and she was annoyed that he should speak to her with so little respect. Make him wait. She turned to Dalai. “I think the ruby comb tonight. Did I tell you how much I enjoy wearing it? It has such meaning for me.”

  “Yes, madam, you told me.” She met Zahra’s eyes in the mirror as she hurriedly placed the ruby comb in the chignon. Her maid was probably remembering the details of the deadly story of the comb, Zahra thought with amusement. Dalai was so easy to frighten. “It will be beautiful.”

  “Yes, it will.” Zahra glanced back at Wyatt. “Do you think I’ll look beautiful when I give my speech at the U.N. General Assembly? Will you be proud of me?”

  “Stop teasing and come over here.”

  “But you like me to tease you. You like everything I do to you.” And she had found out early in their relationship that the thing he liked most was for her to dominate him. The twisted bastard went wild when he was forced into submission. She’d seen the signs on that first night she’d seduced him and had her agent, Lon Markel, check him out. Wyatt spent a good deal of money at several specialty houses when he was in London. That information was all Zahra needed. His particular addiction suited her very well. Domination could be used in many ways other than sex. She got to her feet and came toward him. “Do you think that your wife will think I’m beautiful? Perhaps we can have a threesome when I’m in New York. Shall I call her in London and tell her to join us?” She slipped off her robe and dropped it on the floor. “But perhaps she thinks a woman’s duty is only to provide pleasure to a man…and whoever else he chooses. Haven’t you taught her?” She slipped naked into bed. “I’ll teach her for you.”

  He started to reach for her, and she pushed him away. “No, my rules. Always my rules.”

  “Bitch,” he said through his teeth. “I’m going crazy. Let me in you.”

  “I
told you, you’ll mess my hair.” She ran her fingers down his belly. “But I might allow you to persuade me. But you’ll have to give me something that will please me to make up for it.”

  “What a whore you are.”

  “No, I’m a queen. I’ve told you that before.”

  “You keep saying that. Being president isn’t enough for you?”

  “No, presidents rely on elections. A queen has power because she is what she is. That’s why it hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me. You should feel honored that I let you have my body.”

  “Stop playing this game, Zahra. Just let me—” He gasped as her hand closed on him. “What…do you want?”

  “I want you to tell me that you know I’m a queen, and you’ll do everything you can to make sure that’s how I’m treated in New York.”

  “You—know—I—will.”

  “How do I know it?” Her hand tightened around him. “Prove it to me. I haven’t noticed you doing anything to make my position here in Maldara stronger lately.”

  “I do everything you ask.” He gasped again as her nails dug into him. “Shit.”

  “I don’t appreciate how unfriendly the newspapers have been to me. You have influence. Do something about it.”

  “I told you, interfering with the free press would be a mistake. It would shine too bright a light on me and my office here in Jokan. I can’t do it.”

  “All I wish is for you to get rid of just one journalist. Jill Cassidy. That’s not too much to ask.”

  “She’s very well regarded, and it might cause a stir. You said you’d take care of it yourself.”

  And she would have, if only those fools had been a little rougher with the bitch that night in the jungle. She’d given explicit instructions, and it should have worked beautifully. But Jill had disappeared for only a few days after the attack; and then she was back in Jokan and still very much in the way. “It didn’t work out. I want you to do it.”

  Wyatt was silent. “I’ll do it. You know I’ll do anything you wish. But you should know they will probably recall me. Is that what you want?”