Finally, he stepped back from her and stood in the darkness. Dressed completely in black and with his face covered except for his eyes, his features were indistinguishable. But she knew the shadow as male; it was obvious by his build and heavy masculine voice—although he had masked it, whispering huskily when he spoke. As if both sensing the same feelings, she reached for her helmet, but not before he grabbed it. “Aw, the phoenix,” he said, smacking his lips sarcastically. “Elusive little bird…Rises from the ashes, they say. Tsk tsk. As if only you deserved to wear it.”
Romia said nothing. She was thinking too hard, trying to get ahead of this shadow, trying to figure out what was happening to her. “I do deserve it,” she finally blurted, sounding like a little girl instead of the tough cookie everyone knew her to be.
“I’ll determine that, but as for now, you’re just a criminal—a murderer.”
“I didn’t kill that man.”
The shadow laughed. “I know that. You were playing with me behind the bar when it happened. But then again, I’m a terrible alibi, don’t you think?”
He was right, he was no better than the mysterious one-armed man from the movies. No one would believe her if she told them of the encounter with the shadow. She’d have to prove her innocence by finding the killer. It was the only way.
“Who killed him?”
“Who do you think?”
“I don’t know. I…” Romia thought about the scene. “The woman!” Romia gasped. The man chuckled. “Who was she? You know, don’t you?”
“Too easy, but a good start.” The shadow started for the window, but Romia charged at him to get her helmet back. A back kick sent her tumbling. This time he did not hold back. The blow stunned her and she hesitated before getting up, assessing her ribs. “You’ll get this back when you deserve it,” he said, disappearing out the window, taking her helmet with him.
Romia struggled to her feet and ran to the window, only to see an empty alley below. How did he know I was here? she asked herself, feeling the chill of violation. Again she looked around the room. She needed to sleep. It was late, but she knew time was of the essence. Tomorrow would be too late. The trail would be cold. She had to get some answers…now!
She had to get out of her boots and get into some travel gear. She had no gun, no jacket, no vehicle, and now…no lucky charm. All this dawned on her as she slinked through the dark streets, darting in and out of alleyways, avoiding streets where the night people were foraging for food and finding places to sleep warmly.
Surviving.
She felt vulnerable without her bike, jacket, and helmet. Those belongings that bore the symbol that represented her strength were missing now. The police had taken her bike; it was gone when she came down from the building to see if, just in case, they had left it. No such luck. Looking around, she assumed they had her jacket, too.
Framed and hanging on the wall in her apartment, the tapestry was all she had left and she was determined to get it before the police got to her place. Like a cat in the night she moved through the crowded streets undetected without her normal attire.
Chapter 5
In the meantime somewhere over the Atlantic.
The largest of the three men spoke little English. His native tongue was Arabic. He was Egyptian. The other two were from Cairo and their English was clearly understood. The airport lines were less complicated for English-speaking foreigners.
They each carried bags that gave them the appearance of traveling businessmen who also wanted to enjoy a little California fun. Floral shirts and sunscreen also set the stage for their American vacation.
Settling into the seats, they smiled at the flight attendant. She was tall and blond.
“You gentlemen want champagne?” she asked, making her way through first class.
“Yes, I believe we do,” one of the men answered for all three. The woman smiled. It was obvious her eyes caught sight of the ring on the Egyptian’s finger. The large ring clustered with diamonds in an odd shape on his middle finger had to have dazzled her.
“Your ring is lovely. Fraternity?” she asked. Another of the English-speaking men looked at the ring and then smiled at her, lifting the Egyptian’s hand so she could get a closer look.
“It’s a phoenix. Do you know what that is?”
Her face scrunched up a little in a cute way. “Um, a mythological bird that, um, rises from the ashes, right?”
“You’re close. It is a beautiful woman born to rule. She’s elusive and seductive and unaware of her power. With just a glance, she can set a world on fire and walk away unburned,” the man answered her. “Yet, she’s far from mythical. She’s standing right in front of everyone,” he added. The flight attendant smiled and blushed as if having just received a compliment. She had no idea what the man was talking about.
Chapter 6
“So you were there? Tell me what happened,” the officer from internal affairs barked. He’d been questioning Keliegh for the past hour about what he’d seen and not seen, and then, as if Keliegh hadn’t heard the questions, he asked them again—backward. It was bad enough that it was late and he was tired and not thinking clearly, but then they had further confused him by taking him to an interrogation center outside of his precinct.
“I told you everything. By the time I got outside, Romia was kneeling over some dead guy, or whatever, and it was all circumstantial. The woman was screaming that Romia had shot the guy. But, no, I didn’t see her shoot anybody.”
“But you say she was all bloody.”
“No, I didn’t say she was all bloody. I said her lip was busted, she bleeds easily from the mouth, and—”
“How do you know that?”
Keliegh grimaced at the question. “We were partners. You learn stuff like that about your partner.”
“Did she fight a lot? Get smacked in the chops a lot? What?”
“She never fought in the street. But like in competition, if she took a hit to the face, she bled…a lot. It would usually take her out of a match.”
“I heard she knew the guy she killed.”
That was it. Keliegh stood. “Can I go now? I mean, you’ve accused her of murder enough for one night. Don’t you think you should be out there looking for the person who shot that guy?”
“Who else coulda done it?”
“The woman maybe? Who was she? Nobody seems to know!”
“What woman?” the Internal Affairs officer asked.
Just then, two more IA agents burst into the interrogation room. Keliegh didn’t know them, either. Strangely enough, Keliegh had never met any of the men he’d seen here tonight. He didn’t know these cats from Adam. He was ready to bust one of them in the mouth and get the hell outta there. He’d never been at the office of internal affairs before and he had to admit, they were serving him up every dish from the intimidation café—but he wasn’t shaken. Keliegh wanted nothing more than to get out of there so he could find Romia. She was scared. He’d seen it in her eyes. It was a look he’d never seen before and so it had to be fear…what else? Surely it wasn’t malice. She didn’t kill that guy…there was no way. For what? Feeling her up and causing her to get alcohol spilled on her jacket? Shooting him would have been rather extreme—even for her. Keliegh wasn’t buying it as easily as Aston and Hank were. He’d seen them come from another room while he waited to be called. They avoided eye contact with him, which let him know they’d sold her out. Pricks.
“We’re gonna be watching you, Detective