CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

October 2, 10:00 A.M.

Sedona, Arizona

OLIVIA READ THE words on her computer screen for a third time. The message received late the previous evening from Sultan of Rum stated he would be in town and wanted to meet her for lunch. He claimed to have discovered the whereabouts of the final relic, but wasn’t comfortable sending the information over the Internet or discussing his findings over the phone. What scared Olivia the most was she had never mentioned where she lived, but the fact he knew didn’t really surprise her.

Sultan of Rum was no Jamaican party boy. According to Cash, her email pal was a Turkish physicist who authorities had tracked from Turkey to Afghanistan. Then he had vanished from their radar. Apparently, he was about to reappear, and knowing he was so close, and Cash was so far away, terrified her.

She wanted to talk to Cash, but she had no idea how to contact him, and she didn’t want to scare Diane. For lack of a better option, she punched in the secure number to the agents assigned to protect her and explained the contents of the message. They told her to hold tight until they got back to her with instructions.

Olivia sat on her sofa running her fingers through her hair. She hadn’t wanted to go to Peru with Cash and Diane, nor did she think they would have let her, but at the moment, she yearned to be anywhere else in the world besides her own living room. Glancing between the phone and her computer, she wished one would ring and the other never existed.

Only five minutes had elapsed since she last spoke to the agents, but it felt like hours. Olivia nearly jumped off the sofa when the phone rang. The agents told her to arrange the lunch meeting. They had already installed a tracking device on her car and planned to follow her to the rendezvous point and nab Mustafa.

Olivia’s fingers trembled as she typed a response to Sultan. She offered up the time and directions to the restaurant the agents provided. The thought of meeting the man face-to-face frightened her, but she didn’t see much choice. With everything Cash and Diane revealed about the group seeking the crystals, and after witnessing Ian’s horrifying death, Olivia felt obligated to do whatever she could to help end the madness.

Her mind wandered to Ian. In the short time they spent together, she had grown very fond of him. His accent, sensible perspective on everything, and his interesting sense of humor had been a calming force during the tense times. Ian gave his life to protect all of them, and she owed him the same selflessness.

She then thought of Diane and prayed her sister remained safe. Olivia never realized before the level of danger inherent in Diane’s job and never gave her the credit she deserved. Diane chose a life of public service, trying to make the world a safer place for the innocent. But instead of telling her how proud she was, she subtly jabbed Diane about turning her back on her heritage.

Olivia’s thoughts finally honed in on Cash. She had tried not to think about him after he left, unable to sort out her feelings. When he kissed her, it was possible to forget about the killing, his reputation with women, and his risky job. She felt safe in his arms, which struck her as odd, since she had experienced nothing but danger from the moment he walked through her door and into her life.

Diane’s constant reminders of his womanizing made her nervous. Olivia didn’t believe he was as bad as Diane claimed, since her sister was prone to exaggeration. She refused to accept he could be that shallow, but rather unintentionally sought relationships which didn’t go anywhere to shield himself from responsibility and pain. No matter how many times Olivia warned herself to stay away from Cash, if for no other reason than his job, she feared it was already too late. In Cash’s arms she felt wanted, needed, cherished, and protected, unlike now, when she just felt scared and alone.

Olivia changed her clothes, grabbed her purse and keys, and headed for her car. She backed out of the garage and drove to the gas station, even though her tank read three-quarters full. She topped off with fuel and went inside to pay before entering the restroom and locking the door. As planned, an agent waited in one of the stalls to fit her with a listening device and a GPS tracker, extra precautions, they claimed.

With the tiny technology in place, she left the station as calmly as possible, with her heart racing out of control. Olivia checked her watch and noted she was right on schedule for her meeting, so she continued to drive at a speed that kept the agents’ truck two vehicle lengths behind her.

She parked across the street from the busy upscale café and got out. Trying not to cast an obvious look around for her security, she turned back to the car and leaned in for her jacket while glancing at the traffic. She watched their vehicle approach and squeeze into a spot a half a block away, and she let out a sigh of relief.

When Olivia entered the café, it seemed as if every patron tracked her movements. She doubted anyone even noticed her, but the sense of being studied as she scanned the room for Sultan persisted. He said he would be wearing tan pants, a navy-colored sweater, and glasses. No one in the café met the description. Olivia was ashamed of her weakness, but admitted she had secretly hoped he wouldn’t show. Per the instructions from the agents, she took a seat at a table near the window and tried to project a calm casual air, despite her racing pulse rate.

“May I take your order, or are you waiting for someone?”

Olivia realized she didn’t have her anxiety as under control as she thought, nearly jumping out of her seat when the waiter approached her table.

“I’ll have an iced tea, but I’ll wait to order lunch until my friend gets here,” she replied, forcing a smile to her lips.

After fifteen minutes, she paid her bill and left, relieved by Sultan’s no-show. Olivia found comfort in the quick glimpses of the agent’s silver truck in her rearview mirror as she made her way home. As she drove into the garage and watched the door slowly close behind her, removing the agent’s comforting presence from her sight, goose bumps spread over her skin and she shuddered.

Inside her home, Olivia opened her hallway closet, reaching for a coat hanger. Her outstretched arm froze as the heat emanating off a body close behind engulfed her. She wanted to turn around and prove her imagination was just running wild, but fear rendered her unable to move. How stupid. With the agents tailing her to a now obviously bogus rendezvous, no one remained to maintain surveillance on her house, and breaking in through the sliding glass doors of the sunroom unnoticed would be child’s play for a professional criminal.

“Take off the wire, Olivia,” the man whispered into her ear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stuttered.

“I hate liars. You will have to be punished.”

She eased around to face the intruder. Before she could scream out for help, or get a glimpse of him, a hand slammed across her cheek, the force of the blow knocking her to the floor. Her head struck the tile, and all went black.

The man located the wire and tracker and destroyed both.

“What a shame to strike such a beautiful face,” he said as he hoisted Olivia’s limp body over his shoulder and made his way to the back of the house and out the unsecured door he had entered through.