Page 76 of Secrets Beneath the Waves (Beach Read Thrillers #2)

CHAPTER

SIX

I don’t think she’s who she says she is.

I pull back the blackout curtain and stare out the sixth-floor window.

Below me, a maze of rooftops and flickering lights presses in from all sides as I try to make sense of the last few hours.

From up here the hum of traffic is muted, and there’s a sense of detachment from the situation.

But I can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

I want to be wrong about the woman in the other room, but I can’t deny what’s right in front of me. I’m convinced that this woman, whoever she is, isn’t Mariam.

“Okay. . .” Graham says, looking toward the hallway. “Explain to me what you’re thinking. If she’s not Mariam, then who is she?”

I let the curtain go and turn back to him. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you hadn’t even met Mariam.”

“I haven’t,” I say. “And Oumar didn’t tell me much about her. Just bits and pieces. He thought that would protect her. It was part of the deal he made with me not to involve her, and I’ve always respected his decision.”

Now I wish I would have pushed more. Demanded to know more details about her. Of course, I never imagined being faced with a situation like this.

“What did she say to convince you she’s a fake?” Graham asks.

I sit down on the couch and clasp my hands in front of me, knowing that if I’m right, everything could quickly spiral out of control if we aren’t careful.

“It’s small things. For example, I asked her about a trip they took to Istanbul, but I just made it up to see what she would say. She went along with it and even threw in a handful of details about the trip.”

He sits down on the other side of the couch. “I understand your concern, but it’s certainly not conclusive. Even you admit you don’t know everything about Oumar. They could have taken a trip to Istanbul that you don’t know about.”

“Agreed, but it’s more than the details. It was her entire demeanor.”

“Explain.”

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to put my thoughts together.

“I asked her about her role in the Baako Group. Oumar once mentioned Mariam was building a platform to help women in Mali export their artisan products. She knew the facts, but there was no real passion in her voice. No resonating emotion when she shared details with me. Oumar’s Mariam would have had passion in her voice. ”

Graham still doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure you’re not searching for something that’s not there?”

“It’s possible.”

I let out a soft sigh, not ready to admit he could be right, because no matter what angle I look at the situation from, I keep coming up with the same answer—the woman I’ve been interviewing isn’t who she says she is.

Graham leans forward. “What would be the point of her faking who she is?”

“I have no idea.”

I stand up again, this time to pace the parquet floor, while organizing my thoughts.

It’s in moments like these I find myself missing William the most. He was always willing to jump in and scrutinize a problem from every possible angle.

To head down every rabbit trail with me while searching for a solution.

Graham is a capable operative, but he seems to be more pragmatic, matter-of-fact.

I need someone to help me shuffle all the puzzle pieces and find a solution.

I take a deep breath and shove aside my doubts as well as my thoughts of William. This isn’t the time or the place to let my emotions wander, and besides, I have to admit that maybe a more practical look at the situation isn’t a bad idea.

“Let’s assume you’re right about her,” he says, surprising me by going along with my theory at least for the moment. “How would she have gotten the information she has?”

“I don’t know, but that’s one thing that’s concerning. If she’s an imposter, she would more than likely have gotten the information directly from either Oumar or Mariam.”

I hear movement in the entryway. The front door opens and closes and a moment later Lizzie walks into the room, carrying two pizza boxes.

She sets the food on the coffee table along with a pile of napkins. “I thought the two of you could use something to eat so I had something delivered.”

“Thank you,” I say.

The smell is amazing, and I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast.

I glance down the hallway. “Has she gone to bed?”

Lizzie nods. “She told me she didn’t want to eat. Just wants to sleep.”

“Did you discover anything while I was interviewing her?” I ask.

“A couple things,” Lizzie takes one of the empty chairs, and I sit back down across from her.

“For starters, I looked into Mariam’s family’s company, the Baako Group.

It was originally launched as a small import-export business with supply chains between Europe and Africa.

Primarily textiles and various artisanal goods.

It quickly evolved into a larger established company but has always kept its roots and connection to North Africa.

“From what I’ve researched about the company, they would struggle to come up with that kind of cash quickly, but it’s possible,” Lizzie says. “I’ve tried calling her father, but either his phone is off or he’s just not answering.”

“She told me he left the country to meet with someone who might be able to help with the ransom demands.”

“That might explain why I haven’t reached him yet.” Lizzie shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’ve been looking into Mariam’s family business. Oumar isn’t the only one who deals with questionable people.”

“Meaning?” Graham asks.

“The Baako Group has been accused in the past of being a logistical middleman for cargo containers with contraband arms bound for conflict zones.”

“So you’re telling me this isn’t an aboveboard family business?”

“I don’t have any actual proof, but I’ll keep digging.”

“Any evidence she’s not who she says she is?” Graham asks.

“No.” Lizzie’s brow rises. “Why?”

“That’s the direction Samantha is leaning,” Graham says, before I can answer.

“Why would someone impersonate Mariam?” Lizzie asks.

“I don’t know, but there were discrepancies in her interview,” I add, still convinced I’m right. “Things that just don’t add up.”

I grab a piece of pizza, pull off a mushroom, and pop it into my mouth. Maybe I’m being overly sensitive, but something is off.

“What about a background check, or even the contacts in her phone?” I ask. “There has to be someone who can prove she either is or isn’t who she says she is.”

Lizzie pulls her feet up beneath her. “Up to this point, I’ve had no reason to question her identity.

There aren’t a lot of contacts listed, but there are the expected conversations between her and Oumar, ones with her father, and plenty of selfies.

But I can do a deeper dive. Go through the network logs and make sure the phone hasn’t been cloned, or mirrored, or faked somehow. ”

“I need you to prove this woman is who she says she is,” I say, feeling frustrated. How hard can that be?

“We will. Soon,” she says. “I promise.”

I take another bite of pizza. I know Lizzie’s trying to reassure me, but if Oumar’s life really is in danger, we’re running out of time.

“What if she’s looking for Oumar, but not for the reasons she says she is?” I speak my thoughts out loud before I even have them clearly formed. “Maybe she kidnapped Mariam, interrogated her, and is using that information to try to find Oumar.”

“It’s an interesting theory, if not a bit far-fetched,” Lizzie begins, shooting me a grin. “The woman clearly knows things about Oumar, plus she had your number.”

“Could he have gone into hiding? Be somehow compromised?” Graham asks.

“Maybe,” I say, “but if he is in trouble—and able—he would’ve come to me for help. Not gone into hiding.”

Lizzie sits back in her chair. “I’ve looked at Oumar’s file, but I’d like to hear your take on the situation, since Oumar is your asset. Maybe it will help us put the pieces together.”

“Of course,” I say, staring at my pizza and suddenly realizing I’m not really hungry. “Any specific questions?”

“Did you sense Oumar was afraid the last time you saw him?” Lizzie asks.

“I was worried about him, of course,” I say, “but I never imagined we’d be dealing with a situation like this.”

Because one of my jobs was to keep Oumar safe. And if he was to lose his life because I failed to do my job?—

“What were your concerns?” Lizzie asks.

“Basically, he was frustrated,” I say, reigning in my thoughts.

“He didn’t feel that the information he was collecting and giving to the CIA was being used to actually stop the illegal arms dealing.

He felt like things were moving too slowly.

He’d even mentioned at one point that he just needed to try and shut them down himself.

I told him that he needed to be patient and work with me. ”

That was what I told Oumar, but I understood his frustration. Things always work slowly in government, and it wasn’t the first time I’d wanted to bypass the process and do things without having to deal with all the red tape.

“What if he was doing more than just passing on information? What if he was tampering with the supply chain?” Graham asks.

“Would he even have had that much power?” Lizzie adds.

“It’s possible,” I say, going over Lizzie’s question in my mind. “And he did tell me he was doing something that was going to change everything. I assumed it had to do with new intel he told me he was gathering, but maybe I was wrong.”

Graham stretches out his legs in front of him. “It would explain why someone might come after him.”

“Let’s go with that,” Lizzie says. “How would he have tried to shut down trade routes, or at the least sabotage them?”

I lean back on the couch. “He only spoke in generalities, but he could have changed shipping manifests, forged customs documents, or sabotaged vehicles. . . Basically, it would mean making sure there was a delay or breakdown en route. People would blame it on logistics, but it would cause issues.”

“And it would have made people mad. Even made enemies,” Graham adds.

Lizzie leans forward. “Could he have done some of these things?”

I nod. “It’s possible, though I thought I’d convinced him to be patient.”

“Who exactly would have been affected?” Lizzie asks.

“It’s complicated,” I begin, “but for starters, Oumar embedded himself in the Koumana Syndicate, a North African cartel run by a warlord named General Ke?ta who currently controls the majority of the illegal smuggling routes in and out of the Sahel. Oumar has been making his way up the chain, while slowly passing on information to us.”

“Definitely a dangerous position,” Graham says.

“Absolutely. The network is an alliance of both corrupt military officials and warlords who deal in arms and smuggling drugs, mainly in and out of North Africa. They aren’t exactly people you want to get on the wrong side of.”

“But apparently he did,” Lizzie says. “So what do we do now?”

“I need you to verify that Mariam is who she says she is,” I say.” I’ll go through the intel I’ve received from Oumar over the last few months and see if I can come up with a list of people who might have kidnapped him.”

“We also need to try and catch a few hours of sleep so we can function tomorrow,” Graham says.

I look at my watch and stand up, surprised at how late it is. “Agreed, but we only have a few hours to either prove—or disprove—that Oumar’s life is in danger, and if it is in danger, to find him.”