Page 117 of Kiss Her Goodbye

I add, “And the good news is, we no longer have to rely on a decoy.”

CHAPTER 43

WE MAKE OUR WAY TOthe warehouse district with Sabera sitting, plainly visible, in the passenger’s seat.I have concerns about the young mother’s volatile state of mind, but leaving her behind doesn’t feel like an option, especially as it would leave her alone and vulnerable.We have enough of a mess without her disappearing a second time around.

So for now, we roll Sabera into our plan, assigning her the role of, well, Sabera.Meanwhile, Roberta is hunkered down in the back, our secret weapon, should we need her.Which leaves me as the driver.

It’s been so long since I’ve operated a motor vehicle, I’m nearly more strung out over navigating late-night traffic than I am over actively seeking out known killers.During brief respites stopped at red lights, however, I continue a discreet inspection of Sabera Ahmadi.

Sitting in the front, the streetlights wash over her features in a continuous stream of illumination.She is definitely battered, the circle of bruises around her throat even more plainly visible.

But now there are other details I notice.

For starters, she smells just fine.As someone who’s literally been passed out drunk in dark alleyways, I’m very familiar withthe scent of vagrancy.Basically, a potent combination of sweat, sewage, and desperation.

For another thing, her hair, while jagged from being violently hacked short, doesn’t appear oily or unkempt.

And her hands, now folded on her lap with the steak knife tucked between her fingers, are suspiciously clean.They’ve also gone from agitated trembling to perfectly poised.

From the back seat, Roberta whispers for me to make a right.I fumble with the blinker, turn down a street noticeably lacking in the lighting department.The avenue remains wide but is now even more rutted and potholed than the main Tucson drags.

We head deeper into the darkness, the buildings becoming larger and broader, but also more derelict.Definitely feels like we’re in the right neighborhood.

X factor, I muse.What I’d mentioned to Detective Marc earlier.

Where has Sabera been hiding since bolting from her resort rabbit hole, especially as it seems to have included personal hygiene opportunities as well as access to transportation?And as long as I’m questioning her version of events:

Rafiq and his cousin weren’t just killed during Sabera’s escape.According to Roberta, their skulls were nearly pulverized.Sounds very personal to me.Which maybe reflects Isaad’s emotional state after they kidnapped his wife?

Except how did he end up tortured and killed next?Sabera said she’d assumed Isaad and—stutter stop—were behind her when she fled.Who is stutter stop, and why not simply tell us?

MI6 handler Lilla had mentioned seeing Sabera meeting with a curly-haired, handsome Yank.If I were the betting type, I’d say curly-haired Yank equals X factor in my world, and stutter stop in Sabera’s.But again, why the secrecy?Who is Sabera tryingto protect, because from what I can tell, there aren’t too many important people in her world left.

I don’t like not knowing things I should know, especially as we roll by another hollow-eyed industrial space, a lone spotlight illuminating shattered windows and graffiti-covered walls.

Roberta delivers more directions.We cruise past where Sabera was originally held, then toward Isaad’s site, a grand tour of crime scenes, complete with yards of yellow tape.Periodically we come across small clusters of individuals engaged in furtive exchanges.Not to mention huddled forms tucking into various doorways for a night’s sleep.

Traffic is light.Periodically headlights appear behind me, but none have lingered.

It occurs to me the bare-bones lighting doesn’t just help protect evildoers, it’s also keeping them from seeing the bait.

I rustle around my pants pockets till I find my cell phone, then activate the screen and hand it over to Sabera.

“Pretend to be reading something on it,” I direct.“While holding it close to your face.”

She appears puzzled, then in the next instant, a single nod as she too realizes the issue.

I revisit our route, working a grid, from outer blocks to inner streets, then back out again.

Pass after pass.Headlights appearing in the rearview mirror, only to disappear again.All three of us growing increasingly anxious.

And then.

A pair of lights, nearly pinpricks in the distance, but drawing quickly closer.Large vehicle.Maybe silver or white in color.

This is it.I can feel it.I glance over at Sabera to see if she thinks the same.

Her once glassy gaze is now perfectly clear, her shaky hands rock steady.