Page 43 of High Treason
She took a moment to pray for all those within the house to see a woman who conducted herself in a respectful manner. The need for wisdom dominated her thoughts and discernment. She added thankfulness for God’s presence and a plea to curb her tongue.
She wanted to forget about Liam and the damage he’d inflicted upon countless lives. Why did Jeff bring up his name and link him to Kord? Her new partner hadn’t shown any of the man’s traits—nocharming side mixed with brooding. No lies about how he longed to make the world a better place. No feigned desire to serve God. No promises of a future together with her. No late-night scribblings of the house they’d build together. No writing their vows. No lists of what they’d name their children.
Why couldn’t she get past it?
Since Liam’s betrayal, the male gender frightened her, pushed her into a corner where she doubted her abilities. Didn’t help that she worked in a male-dominated career. She’d created more walls and added mortar to the existing ones. Jeff once called Liam the “unfortunate incident.” He’d been more than an unfortunate incident—he’d been a gruesome degradation of a greedy man.
Her nightmares reminded her of the miserable mess and how she’d fallen prey to Liam’s manipulation. Night after night she relived it in vivid color. Mostly red.
God promised to help her get past the memories, but first she had to stop punishing herself and allow Him to work.
A text landed in her secure phone, interrupting her preoccupation.
From Kord.Can u meet me on the W terrace? 3 things 2 discuss.
OMW
Attached to the text was a link to Prince Omar’s informant report and another to the security footage at MD Anderson.
Monica left her scarf behind. If she ran into the prince, at least her arms and legs were covered. Outside the home, Kord stood near potted flowers and plants. A great shot for a photographer. She caught herself and reined in the attraction that couldn’t go any further than a flirtatious thought. Hadn’t she just admitted the whole male population prevented her from moving forward in any relationship?
He waved and joined her. “Up for a walk?”
“Sure.” They ventured toward a far corner of the property near a clump of oak trees. A white marble bench seemed to invite them.
Once seated, Kord grabbed his phone. “I sent you a file.”
Monica read the intel from the prince’s informant. “The man gives three names, all Iranians. I’ll forward this to Jeff to check them out too.”
“I doubt they are still alive.”
“I’d rather know who was behind this. Adding to the body count is not my style.”
“Take a look at the security footage,” Kord said.
She reflected on the images of the person authorities believed was responsible for three deaths. Relaxed. Observant. Wore gloves. Most criminals worked alone, but due to the nature of international terrorism, she banked on a conspiracy. She replayed the footage outside the hospital entrance three times.
“Do you see anything unusual other than the man knows where every camera is located, just like at the high school?” he said.
“He either knows how to utilize a disguise or the scheme has more than one player.”
“My analysis too.” Kord pointed to a taxi driver who’d spoken to the killer. The man was Caucasian. Six foot. Red hair. “Can you read what he said to the killer?”
“Zoom in.” The footage rolled just enough for her to make out two words. “He said, ‘Morning, sir.’ Nothing there unless that was a code for something. Has he been questioned?”
“Yes, and released. He checked out.”
She read additional investigation reports. “What’s your take on the FBI interviews here in Houston? I see they’ve conducted four—three Iranian men and one woman from Syria who’ve been on our watch list.”
“All had alibis for yesterday and this morning. National and international interviews are in progress. Early reports show nothing substantial. Surveillance teams are in place.”
She considered the strong possibility of another attempt and a driving force propelling her to find the killer.
A cardinal fluttered into the treetops.
Monarch butterflies tasted spring flowers.
She didn’t have to end this case herself, but being honest hadn’t stopped the need to prove her value. Her insides burned.
