and turned back. “Show me I can trust you, Ameen Ali.”
She draped the niqab over her face before scooting around the corner. Remembering that Omar had been in the alley when she’d escaped out the front, she hoped to find the back door unlocked. Flattened against the side of the adjacent building, she surveyed the hideout and area for any signs of activity.
All quiet.
When she reached the back door, it stood ajar with the open padlock dangling from the inside latch. She pushed the door open an inch and peered into the room.
Looked. Listened. Nothing.
She slipped inside. Still nothing.
The place was undisturbed. Even the lamps were still on. Her purse sat on the floor where she’d left it. The boxes of electronic parts remained in a neat line. Nothing suggested anyone had been in the room since Samir and Omar had raced outside after her.
She hurried through the narrow archway into the front room. The bathroom door, which she had pulled shut, now stood open. She snickered at the image of Samir and Omar too fearful to open the door on a Muslim woman in the bathroom. The ploy had yielded extra minutes in her escape attempt. But they’d still caught her. She shuddered at the memory.
The front door hung open a crack. She leaned against the wall and strained to hear. No sounds came from the deserted street. She peeked through the opening at Samir’s truck. He always locked it so she decided against venturing outside the house to inspect it. She had to deal with things that were more urgent.
After closing the door, she trotted into the bedroom and found the bolted cabinet intact in the closet. She released a sigh of relief. The lights must have served as a deterrent since the unlocked doors would have certainly been an invitation to thieves.
She yanked the niqab off her head and grinned. The story she’d formulated was plausible, but she had work to do before the other members of the cell showed up looking for her, Samir, and Omar. And they could arrive at any minute.
Marissa rushed into the back room just as Ameen raced through the rear doorway with his gun drawn. “Ameen, no!”
He froze. “Five minutes. You didn’t come back,” he said, lowering the gun.
“And you were supposed to leave, not come barging in here. What if I wasn’t alone? What if the others were with me?”
He waved off her concerns and stuffed the gun in his waistband. “I would have dealt with them. Sorry, but I cannot forget the image of Samir’s knife above your neck.” He turned slowly in a circle, surveying the room. His attention landed on the cardboard boxes, and he said almost to himself, “So these are the boxes the nervous men in scarves deliver.” Frowning, he glanced at her before approaching them. “What’s in the boxes?”
“Ameen, I cannot answer your questions. Remember?”
He didn’t respond but stooped to flip up the top of the first box. He studied the contents before moving to the next one. As he inspected them, his frown deepened. At the end of the line, he bent down to see the small address label on the side.
“Abdul-Jaleel Electronics,” he read aloud and turned to Marissa with a puzzled expression. “What’s all this stuff for?”
“No questions, Ameen. You need to leave. They will be coming to see why the three of us never came home last night.”
“I understand,” he said, rubbing the muscles at the back of his neck. “Abdul-Jaleel Electronics is where Khaleel works. I should warn him that someone is stealing from the company.” He caught her surprised expression before she could erase it. “What?”
Her face now emotionless, she shook her head and was careful not to overreact. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Or about me. You really must leave so I can prepare.”
Reluctantly, he dragged his attention away from the boxes. “But I want to help. I believe we share the same goal.”
She hesitated. She didn’t know how much time she had. Maybe he could help.
“Okay. Make it
She draped the niqab over her face before scooting around the corner. Remembering that Omar had been in the alley when she’d escaped out the front, she hoped to find the back door unlocked. Flattened against the side of the adjacent building, she surveyed the hideout and area for any signs of activity.
All quiet.
When she reached the back door, it stood ajar with the open padlock dangling from the inside latch. She pushed the door open an inch and peered into the room.
Looked. Listened. Nothing.
She slipped inside. Still nothing.
The place was undisturbed. Even the lamps were still on. Her purse sat on the floor where she’d left it. The boxes of electronic parts remained in a neat line. Nothing suggested anyone had been in the room since Samir and Omar had raced outside after her.
She hurried through the narrow archway into the front room. The bathroom door, which she had pulled shut, now stood open. She snickered at the image of Samir and Omar too fearful to open the door on a Muslim woman in the bathroom. The ploy had yielded extra minutes in her escape attempt. But they’d still caught her. She shuddered at the memory.
The front door hung open a crack. She leaned against the wall and strained to hear. No sounds came from the deserted street. She peeked through the opening at Samir’s truck. He always locked it so she decided against venturing outside the house to inspect it. She had to deal with things that were more urgent.
After closing the door, she trotted into the bedroom and found the bolted cabinet intact in the closet. She released a sigh of relief. The lights must have served as a deterrent since the unlocked doors would have certainly been an invitation to thieves.
She yanked the niqab off her head and grinned. The story she’d formulated was plausible, but she had work to do before the other members of the cell showed up looking for her, Samir, and Omar. And they could arrive at any minute.
Marissa rushed into the back room just as Ameen raced through the rear doorway with his gun drawn. “Ameen, no!”
He froze. “Five minutes. You didn’t come back,” he said, lowering the gun.
“And you were supposed to leave, not come barging in here. What if I wasn’t alone? What if the others were with me?”
He waved off her concerns and stuffed the gun in his waistband. “I would have dealt with them. Sorry, but I cannot forget the image of Samir’s knife above your neck.” He turned slowly in a circle, surveying the room. His attention landed on the cardboard boxes, and he said almost to himself, “So these are the boxes the nervous men in scarves deliver.” Frowning, he glanced at her before approaching them. “What’s in the boxes?”
“Ameen, I cannot answer your questions. Remember?”
He didn’t respond but stooped to flip up the top of the first box. He studied the contents before moving to the next one. As he inspected them, his frown deepened. At the end of the line, he bent down to see the small address label on the side.
“Abdul-Jaleel Electronics,” he read aloud and turned to Marissa with a puzzled expression. “What’s all this stuff for?”
“No questions, Ameen. You need to leave. They will be coming to see why the three of us never came home last night.”
“I understand,” he said, rubbing the muscles at the back of his neck. “Abdul-Jaleel Electronics is where Khaleel works. I should warn him that someone is stealing from the company.” He caught her surprised expression before she could erase it. “What?”
Her face now emotionless, she shook her head and was careful not to overreact. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Or about me. You really must leave so I can prepare.”
Reluctantly, he dragged his attention away from the boxes. “But I want to help. I believe we share the same goal.”
She hesitated. She didn’t know how much time she had. Maybe he could help.
“Okay. Make it
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