The airport buzzed with activity. Men in suits, briefcases in hand, walked briskly toward the security checkpoint. Families with too much luggage on their carts chattered and bickered on their way to the check-in desks. A friendly, feminine, yet bored voice boomed over the PA system, informing a missing passenger that they were about to be kicked off their flight.
“So sorry for the delay. Thank you for your understanding.” The middle-aged lady at the counter in front of him flashed a set of perfect, white teeth at Xander and handed him his ticket.
He looked down at the slips of stiff paper in his hands, and his heart fell. This wouldn’t do at all. His new flight wouldn’t leave for another twenty-three hours.
“This is the best you’ve got?” He knitted his eyebrows together.
“It’s our next available flight out—”
“An entire day’s delay?” He dropped the ticket on the counter. “I’ve got an extremely important appointment. I have to get a flight that leaves now.”
“I’m very sorry, but this evening’s flight has been canceled due to mechanical issues—”
“So there’s no other possible route? Or a different airline?”
“Well, I can try checking again.” The ticketing agent pursed her bright red lips and glanced back at her screen. Her long, plastic nails clacked loudly on the keyboard.
Xander drummed his fingers on the counter while she typed away. He didn’t care if he had to fly through Greece or Spain or wherever. As long as he was getting closer to Leila. His pulse sped up at the thought.
“I could offer you another route via Rome,” she said in a honeyed voice, “but your arrival time would be later than if you took tomorrow’s flight.”
He groaned and rubbed his throbbing temples.
“Sir, would you like those flights instead? The flight to Rome leaves in three hours.”
He studied her through his drooping eyelids, still considering the new offer. As he watched her, he focused on the dark rings under her eyes, muted by a layer of make-up.
Something resembling pity welled up inside his chest. The agent probably heard a lot of drivel from unhappy passengers about things that weren’t her fault. She didn’t need more stress from him because he was impatient. As much as he wanted to see Leila again, he could handle one more day.
He let out a sigh. “No, no. Forget it. I’ll fly out tomorrow.” With a defeated shake of his head, he picked up his ticket and tapped the edge on the counter. “Thanks anyway.”
He strode toward the exit, his carryon trailing behind him. He’d call to cancel the reservation and reschedule. At least Leila had no idea he was planning anything at all. She’d never know the difference.
After passing through the automatic glass doors, the chilly air greeted him with a breeze that stung his face. Squinting, he searched for the line of black cars waiting for passengers, then walked up to the first taxi, tossed his luggage in the backseat, and slid onto the plush bench.
“Forest Hill, please,” Xander said to the driver. The man nodded and put the car into gear. Once they were rolling, Xander pulled his phone from his pocket and started a call to Leila. She still hadn’t rung him like she said she would.
The call went straight to voicemail. Her cheerful voice sang out, asking him to leave a message. He frowned. When did she ever turn her phone off? The message ended with a beep.
“Love, my flight was canceled so I got rescheduled. I’ll text you the exact details but I’ll be leaving late tomorrow night instead, so see you then.”
He ended the call with a scowl even though he wasn’t mad at her. Just at the delay. But he would live. Tomorrow, he’d be off to Egypt at last.
Only one more day.
He slipped a hand into his pocket, and his fingers wrapped around a tiny box. His thumb rubbed across the velvet surface and he went over his plans one more time in blissful anticipation. He had reserved a felucca boat for tomorrow evening, with nothing but the stars overhead. A boat that would be lit with fairy lights and had a musician on board who strummed an oud as they drifted down the Nile.
They’d enjoy some of their favorite dishes—mahshi, a meal consisting of vegetables stuffed with a hearty filling. For dessert, he’d requested the cream-filled cake, kanafeh. After eating, when they were in sight of the Great Pyramids, glowing in their golden lights, he’d get down on one knee and—no. Never mind.
Now that he thought about it, the whole thing sounded rather ridiculous and clichéd. Every other tourist probably popped the question on one of those feluccas. Maybe it was a good thing he missed his flight. He wouldn’t make a fool of himself proposing like some kind of unimaginative imbecile. There had to be some other way to make it a meaningful, unforgettable moment. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his fingers released the box. It could wait a few more days, until he had thought of something else.
To occupy himself during the rest of the ride home, he picked up his phone again and scrolled through the list of missed calls. Leila would probably ring once she got his message.
Soliman? Xander furrowed his brow when the name popped up on his screen. Not the name he was looking for, but curious nevertheless. He called his voicemail to see if the professor had left him a message, only to be serenaded by ramblings from his boss.
Without listening to them, Xander deleted the messages. “Sorry, old bloke. I’m on holiday.”
No wonder my promotion application was rejected.
He jabbed Soliman’s name and rapped his fingers on the arm rest while it rang.
“Xander,” came Soliman’s urgent voice from the other side. “Thank you so much for calling me back.”
Xander swallowed, ignoring the nagging thought that Leila was up to no good. Again.
“Of course. How are things in sunny Cairo?”
“Well, I’m not sure how to explain this.” Soliman let out a sigh, which crackled over the speakers. Xander could picture him in his office, surrounded by books and notepads as he paced back and forth, his hair unkempt and spectacles resting atop his head. Yet there was something in his voice that hinted this call wasn’t about archaeology.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with Leila, would it?” Xander asked hesitantly, his stomach already doing flips.
“Unfortunately… yes.”
No. No, no, no. A wave of cold hit him hard and fast, freezing him in place. He squeezed his eyes shut and cleared his throat before asking the obvious questions. “What is it? She’s okay?”
“I—I don’t know. She’s been missing since last night.”
Xander’s stomach dropped.
“The police are on it, but so far they’ve found nothing.”
He took in a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. His hand came to rest at the back of his head, as if it was the only thing holding him upright. It did nothing to calm down his racing pulse or stop his shaky voice. A million questions hurtled through his mind as he tried to decide what to ask first.
“Are there any ideas of what happened?”
“She left the lab about an hour before I did. A window got broken, so I stayed to clean that up. Her flat was orderly when the police checked. It doesn’t appear anyone had broken in or that there was a struggle. She simply vanished.”
“She’d told me she was meeting up with Emma Giovanni last night. Has anyone talked to her?”
“Yes, she’s the one who raised the alarm. Leila was nervous about something. Emma told her to come to her place. But she never did.”
Xander’s heart thundered. This couldn’t be happening. Everything seemed so normal last night.
“And has anyone spoken to Faris yet?”
“Faris? Not that I’m aware of.”
“Seems like the logical place to start.”
“The police will investigate every angle. I’m glad you’ll be here soon so you can talk to them yourself.”
Xander’s blood thawed and grew hot at the thought of Faris pulling strings from his prison cell. Faris had attempted stunts like this before. There was no doubt he’d do it a second time.
I’m going to kill him. The thought whirled through Xander’s mind. He clenched his hands into fists.
“She’s not dead,” Xander said decidedly. It was an optimistic thought, but it was the only thing to keep him from punching out the window.
“No. She can’t be. We’ll find her.”
“My flight to Cairo leaves tomorrow. I’ll see you when I get in.” Xander ended the call. He held his phone to his forehead for a moment, his eyes closed and chin down, swallowing back the painful lump that had formed in his throat. A sudden weight pressed against his chest. Never had silence been so suffocating. He couldn’t sit around in London while Leila was out there, possibly fighting for her life.
He shook the disturbing thought out of his mind. Proactive. He needed to be proactive. Keep moving. Keep working. Find her before it was too late. Going home for a nap wasn’t an option. Going back to the airport wouldn’t help, either. Not when there weren’t any other flights available. His mind made up, he lifted his head and glanced into the rear view mirror. His reflection stared back at him. Pale with beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow’s flight. He had to get to Cairo now. And he knew just the person who might be able to help.
“Could we reroute to Westminster? Grosvener Square, to be precise.”
The taxi driver glanced over his shoulder at him with a nod. “Certainly.”
Xander let out a sigh and sat back, then dialed a number at their new destination, the U.S. embassy. Mark Coleman, his sister’s husband, was an FBI agent from a wealthy family. He was a charitable chap.
Xander didn’t wait for Mark to say hello once the phone picked up.
“Hi, Mark. I have a small problem. Could you do me a huge favor?”
“Uh, hey. Sure. What can I do?”
“I need to borrow your jet. Today.”