Page 127 of High Treason
“Doubt it,” Jeff said.
“Just received my info from the FBI,” Kord said. “Every investigator in the city is on it.”
Jeff turned to her. “We need your photographic memory expertise.”
She pulled up pics of the brother and sister. “Aside from techs comparing Parvin’s and Jafar’s facial recognition to what we already have, I have nothing.” She longed to help in identifying the suspects. “Parvin had lifted eyebrows, higher cheekbones, and fuller lips. I’m thinking through the footage at Paramount High School, the attempt on Consul General al-Fakeeh at MD Anderson, the bomb left here, Parvin’s apartment, and the various other clips. Jafar is in none of them. Sure of it.” She looked at Kord. “Did you see anyone at the hospital who caused suspicion?”
Kord shook his head. “If involved, he must be behind the scenes.”
“Prince Omar?”
“Nothing, Miss Alden.”
“Ali?” She studied the big man’s features. He took a breath.
“In the waiting room of the burn unit, I remember an old woman. Dressed Iranian. Wearing gray.”
Ali didn’t need to say more. She wanted to run the leads herself,especially with the woman wearing gray. She pulled up the burn unit waiting room footage and pointed to the woman in a few pics. “Is this her?”
“Yes,” Ali said. “I remember she stared at us.”
“Could be the woman was Westernized,” Monica said.
“Or she could have been Jafar Turan,” Ali said.
“Possibly so.”
Jeff typed into his phone. “Having techs examine the hospital footage. Jafar’s face will be splattered worldwide.” He glanced up. “He can’t hide long. The job isn’t done, so he’s in the city.” Jeff finished his coffee. “Will call with updates.” He shook Prince Omar’s hand. “Don’t go anywhere. Whoever’s behind this is getting desperate.”
“I can’t promise that. I refuse to cancel my plans like a coward.”
Couldn’t the prince see he put them all in danger with his actions? Or did his honor and self-sacrifice supersede common sense?
TUESDAY MORNING,Monica rolled out of bed in a fetal position—the most comfortable—and found maneuvering to the bathroom and dressing a little easier than the previous day. Dragging the IV pole irritated her. She unhooked the bag. The doctor claimed he’d remove it today. Couldn’t happen soon enough.
Last night’s kitchen meeting had sapped her. How long until she was back to full speed? She swallowed her meds and slid the thermometer into her mouth: 100.2.
What was wrong with her body? The doctor said exhaustion had weakened her, but she was tired of the temp game.
Three Tylenol to curb the heat.
Now to brush her teeth. She bent and gasped at the ache in her stomach from all the coughing. Yesterday she’d managed the task standing up. Sending a brush through her hair proved equally hard on muscles she normally took for granted. At least she was ambidextrous.
After hooking back to the IV pole, she moved to the common area, but the princesses weren’t there. They’d long since finished breakfast, but a plate of fruit, bread, and coffee awaited her. A text flew into her phone from Ali.
Prince Omar would like to see you.
B right down.
I’ll be in the hallway.
Best the meeting be now. A nap would chase her until she gave in. Outside the women’s quarters, Ali waited. “Good morning, Miss Alden.”
She returned the greeting. “Did Kord tell you not to help me with the stairs?”
He smiled. “Said you might shoot me.”
“You’re a wise man.” She liked Ali. He had charm. Except she’d kill him because of his temper. Or vice versa.
