CHEEKS STILL red with righteous indignation, Amelia closed the door of her suite none too gently. She saw the swinging door barely miss the black cat’s tail as he darted into her room. The creature had followed her from the restaurant and had plopped himself in the middle of her bed, as if it was his right.
“I’m not a pushover like the Egyptians,” she warned him.
The black cat stared her right in the eyes and used his back legs to push her suitcase onto the floor. The leather case hit the floor with an impressive smack.
“Hey!” She started walking toward him with the intention of picking him up and putting him out of the room. His tail flicked once as he reclined, watching her. When she reached out to pick him up, she heard a low, deadly growl. The sound halted her in her tracks. She’d never heard anything more adamant.
Amelia turned abruptly and reached for the telephone. Just as she started to dial the front desk for assistance with cat removal, Familiar sprang to his feet and caught the rotary dial with his sharp claws. He gave a low growl of warning.
Very slowly Amelia lowered the phone back into its cradle. She stared into the cat’s golden gaze. “I don’t know what you want, but you can’t sleep on the bed.”
The cat walked back across the bed, turned in a circle once and then settled into a ball. In what seemed like seconds, he was sound asleep and purring.
Amelia sat on the edge of the bed and examined the feline. She’d never met an animal with such presence. J.J. was a sweet and lovable mutt, but he bent over backward to please her. This cat was another matter. She had the distinct impression that he had it fully in mind to bend her to his will.
“We’ll see about that,” she whispered softly. The cat’s whiskers twitched and he opened his eyes. His golden-green gaze was calm, and then he yawned.
Amelia wanted to tell the cat that he could go straight to Hades, but she couldn’t bring herself to continue to talk to the animal. Even Harad, a man with a multimillion-dollar business, spoke to Familiar as if he thought the cat actually understood. It was ridiculous. The cat might be intuitive and somehow skilled in showing up at the right place at the right time, but it was completely foolish to believe the feline understood language.
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out Dr. Kaffar Mosheen’s business card. She tapped it against the bedside table.
“I wonder if there’s another phone around here,” she mused out loud, casting sidelong glances at the sleeping cat to see how he reacted. When Familiar made no move to thwart her efforts, she dialed the doctor. “Stupid cat. He doesn’t understand a thing,” she muttered under her breath as she waited for the doctor to answer.
Amelia identified herself and heard the gratifying intake of breath on the other end of the line. “I have an hour or so this evening if you’d still like to talk to me about the poisoning,” she said. “I’m staying at the Abbula.”
“Lovely old hotel,” he said. “I’ll be there in half an hour. We could meet—”
“In the bar,” Amelia supplied. “I’ll be waiting for you.” She made it a practice never to let a man make all the decisions. It was good training for them, and for her.
She stood up, smoothed her dress over her hips, checked her reflection in the mirror and started out the door. She turned back to see if the cat was still asleep on the bed.
To her total surprise, the bed was empty. She stared at it a moment. Familiar had vanished. Shaking her head, she walked out of the room and found the cat already waiting for her in the hall. Like some kind of magician, he’d slipped through the door just as she opened it. He led the way to the elevators. As soon as they were in the lobby, he ran into the bar. When she walked in, she found him sitting on a bar stool with a large saucer of cold milk in front of him. In the four seconds he’d been ahead of her, Familiar had somehow managed to charm the burly bartender.
Disgusted, Amelia sat as far from the cat as she could. It was impossible, but it did seem as if he’d understood her conversation on the phone. Either that or he had a serious drinking problem.
All thoughts of Familiar left her head, though, when Kaffar Mosheen walked into the bar. He’d forsaken his white coat, and he wore khakis and a cotton pullover. The pale yellow of the shirt gave his complexion a warm glow. As he took a bar stool beside her, he waved the bartender over.
“Two vodka martinis,” he said, “alcohol should be okay if your headache’s gone.”
“Make that one vodka martini and one iced tea,” Amelia said. She turned to Kaffar. “My headache is gone, but I’d rather have tea. You look very different without your lab coat.”
“I hope I’m very different,” he said, smiling. “Earlier today, you were a patient. Now you are a lovely woman that I hope to impress. Still, I must ask how you feel?”
Amelia laughed. One thing she could say about Alexandria—she’d never met more charming men. She thought of Harad and felt her throat go dry. Even as her body tingled at the thought of him, she smiled at the doctor.
“I’m good as new.
“Tell me about your work,” she said, sipping the drink the bartender had put in front of her.
The doctor began to talk of his research on plants used in herbal remedies to stop smoking. Amelia listened intently, but she was aware of the black cat walking along the top of the bar in her general direction.
When he was in front of Dr. Mosheen, he lifted a big paw and held it aloft for a few seconds. With one swipe, he sent the martini tumbling off the bar and into the doctor’s lap.
Kaffar Mosheen calmly stood. Using a napkin from the bar, he blotted the liquid from his slacks. “My countrymen have a great reverence for the cat,” he said, his voice calm and easy. His eyes held anger. “But I personally hate them. They carry disease. They are a plague upon the city.” He tossed the damp napkin at the black cat’s head. “I would have every single one of them deported or destroyed.”
Amelia placed her drink on the bar. “Don’t you think that’s just a bit of an overreaction? I’m not all that fond of cats, but they aren’t that bad.”
Dr. Mosheen accepted the new drink the bartender brought him. “Perhaps you are right.” He smiled. “Perhaps we should simply create a cat-free zone.” He reached over the bar and touched Amelia’s hand. “Let’s not let a silly accident spoil our chat. Now tell me about your work.”
Amelia gave a rough outline of the work she did for Bretzel and Burke, explaining that she was on her way to Paris as soon as she left Alexandria.
“And when will that be?” Kaffar asked.
“I’m not certain.” Amelia found that her resolve to track her sister into the desert had waned. The more she thought about the adventure, the less she liked it. Harad’s high-handed treatment had gotten her dander up, but now she wasn’t certain she wanted to follow through. She couldn’t make the wedding, so perhaps a planned visit—in town—would be better.
“If you’re staying through tomorrow, perhaps I could drive you to Cairo. There are many things to see. Or we could explore the pyramids. Certainly you can’t visit Egypt and not see the Sphinx or the Great Pyramid.”
Amelia was relieved to see Mauve enter the bar. She didn’t have an answer for the doctor. He was an attractive man and the idea of sightseeing with him held appeal, but her heart really wasn’t in the game. If she didn’t chase down Beth, she needed to head to Paris. She stood and waved the redhead over to them. “Could I let you know tomorrow?”