Lucy and the Sheikh(32)

So, for the last eight years they’d kept to that pact. But now? Lucy didn’t know what the hell Maia was playing at. The tweets and Facebook messages were designed to allay her fears but, instead, only increased them.

“Damn.” She rubbed away a tear of frustration.

“Bad news?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. Razeen stood directly behind her; somehow the other people in the office had vanished leaving only the two of them.

“No, I was just—”

“Let me see, perhaps I can help? Facebook? A personal matter then?” He began to turn away but caught sight of Maia’s photo. “You know this woman?”

Lucy closed her eyes tight. She couldn’t put it off any longer. Whatever Razeen was about to do, she’d cope. She needed to know. She opened her eyes and twisted round to meet his puzzled gaze. “This woman is my sister.”

His face froze under the impact of her words before their full significance filtered through the shock and came to rest in his eyes that deepened in hurt and then went cold. “I knew her in Paris.” He stepped back.

She turned to the computer once more and flicked up the photo of him and Maia. “I know.”

His expression was so cool it hurt. “From that photograph ‘you know’, or from Maia?”

“From the photograph.” She fiddled with the computer mouse uncertainly, not wanting to continue but knowing she had to. “You were obviously having fun with her.”

“Like you think I had ‘fun’ with you?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know what to think.”

“You do, don’t you? You believe I had an affair with Maia and, for some reason I cannot begin to fathom, you’ve come to Sitra, you’ve come to see me, because of it. Isn’t that the truth?”

His voice was as cold and authoritative as any autocratic ruler about to sit in judgment on a subject, about to condemn a subject.

“Yes.”

He sat down and fixed a cold gaze on her. “You cannot assume you know the truth, Lucy, by the existence of a photograph.” His voice was deathly quiet, “Ask me about her and I will tell you.”

Silence weighed heavily. It was broken only by the whirring of an overhead fan and the distant sound of city traffic. A bead of sweat trickled down her back. The words formed but her throat was dry and scratchy and they didn’t emerge. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Where is she?”

He smiled but it was like no smile she’d seen before. “As direct as usual. Unfortunately I can’t answer that to your satisfaction. I don’t know where she is.”

“Why not?” She jumped up, angry now, no longer able to sit and stare at this stranger who held the key to so much information she needed.

“As I said, I knew her in Paris. I invited a group of my friends to come to Sitra and she joined us. And, as far as I know, she returned to Paris shortly afterwards.”

“She came here with your friends. You must know if she left or not.”

“She came here with me, along with six others. I was busy, I left them to explore. To my knowledge they all left the country by private boat a week later.” He stood up from the chair and strode to the window, his fingers rubbing his head in confusion. “Are you trying to tell me she never made it home? What about those updates posted on Facebook?” He strode over to the computer again. “That one was posted only days ago.”

“It’s a lie. All the posts for the last few months have been lies. I’ve been to Paris. I’ve checked with the people, been to the places. No one has seen her. The last genuine post is the photo of you and her. Just the two of you, Razeen. It was over four months ago. I’ve not heard from her since.”

“Then what are the posts you’ve been looking at? Who are they from, if not her?”

“I don’t know. The police won’t do a thing. They say the posts are proof she’s alive and well. They say not replying to messages isn’t an indication anything’s wrong.” She continued to pace. “They say it’s an indication she doesn’t want to contact me. But…” She took a deep breath in a vain effort to stop herself from breaking down in front of the man who was the prime suspect. He was the only person who could simultaneously give her comfort and yet of whom she was afraid. “But, they’re wrong.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She bit her lip. “Of course.” She had to be. The thought of Maia not wanting to contact her was too awful to contemplate. She stopped pacing and turned to him. “Razeen, help me, please. I’m scared. I think something terrible might have happened to my sister. Please, tell me where she is…” Her voice faded to a whisper.