Chapter 24

Ashanta woke and searched the nightstand for something to drink. She reached for the plastic cup that sat nearby and sighed as the cool water coated her dry throat. She looked around the room and noticed that she was no longer in the hospital, but she did not recognize the room. It was nicely decorated. A chaise lounge on the far wall was covered with material matching the comforter tucked securely around her body. She pushed her body upright. It felt like she'd been asleep for days.

She heard her stomach grumble…and she was hungry. She’d find food and then figure out where she was and what happened to Camille.

The door opened and to her surprise, he walked in. “You're awake.” The joy in D’s voice felt false.

Ashanta pushed her hands against the mattress, trying to add some separation between them. She found her back nearly flush with the headboard.

“I'm sure you're hungry, I'll call the nurse and have her prepare you some dinner. In the meantime, we need to talk.”

She remained silent. She tried to look out the window. Where was she? It had to be a house because the furniture was casual and the decor screamed “priceless” from the porcelain vase on the handcrafted wall table to the colorful artwork adorning the walls around her.

“You're in my home,” D answered, reading her thoughts. He walked to the table on the far wall and picked up the receiver. She was dressed in a white gown. Ashanta looked around for her clothes, but the impeccable room did not divulge its secrets. She would search the closet and drawers once he left. The phone sat upon a dark cherry wood table and it gave her hope. She would listen to him and use the phone to call Camille. As he turned and faced the bed, Ashanta flinched at the coldness his eyes held. She would hold her tongue, but she had to find her clothes and get away from him. They tried to kill her once.

“What's going through that pretty little head of yours?” He walked toward the bed and placed a finger beneath her chin, turning her face to him. She jerked her head away from his grip, but he tightened his hold by clamping his hand across her mouth and pressing her back against the bed. She tried to scream, but it escaped as a faint muffle against the weight of his hand. “I've saved you once, but if you get in my way I won't spare your life again.”

He removed his grip and stepped back. Ashanta scurried to sit up in the bed. She remembered him carrying her out of her condo. She watched him closely as he tugged at his shirt and tightened his tie. She knew Talib was involved with D keeping her.

“Now that you get the point, I need you to tell me everything,” he coaxed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “Starting with what you shared with Camille.”

* * *

Marc left the banquet hall after watching Talib escort Camille back to a table. She had a lazy smile on her face as Talib talked close to her ear. Her head tilted back, laughing, as her hand rested on her chest. The soft glow from the candle flames reflecting off her sparkling jewels.

Marc had to get out of there. He stood outside the banquet hall with an eye on Camille and Talib. He recognized him from the pictures they found in Ashanta's box. He snapped a picture with his camera phone and sent it to Russell.

Marc removed his jacket, walked to the public bar and ordered a drink. He could see her ease with him. She had men all around her, first Derek and now Talib. He did not intend to be yet another man standing around waiting for her to choose him. Instead, he would take Russell's advice and set sail…alone.

The bartender placed his drink on a square black napkin on the reflective bar. Marc tossed his jacket across the seat next to him. He had to think it through. They had stumbled on a lot of information and it all seemed so random to him. He grabbed a white napkin from the display and pulled out a pen from his inside pocket. He jotted down Ashanta, Harold, Saul, Talib, Camille.

He began with Ashanta. She seemed to be the connecting piece between everyone involved in the case. She was dating Harold, the president of IJDC. He had the power and relationships to make the trafficking feasible. She could also be responsible for his death. What if she was sending Camille on a wild goose chase? She had the ability to bridge a gap between her past, Talib, and her present, IJDC. Did she intentionally lead them further from her known potential relationship with the rebel organization?

Harold and his company were known globally. To go from a small Texas-based company to an internationally known brand, Marc was certain Harold knew the major, legal and illegal, players in the trade of precious stones. He had the means, but why would he risk his company's reputation by dealing in conflict diamonds?

Marc knew very little about Saul, but if he worked in his father's shadow that was motivation to make a mark on the family business. Did he resort to murder? And was he responsible for making a deal with rebel group?

Then there was Talib. He knew Ashanta before she joined IJDC and he had international ties to the region known for rebel activities. Judging from the documents amassed by Ashanta, why would she agree to work with the man she believes is responsible for harming her family? Unless she was forced to.

Camille worked with everyone, except Talib. She'd been undercover for two years and her frustration caused by the assignment and her job was evident. He needed another drink because the more he thought about it, the more complicated his hiatus became. Marc stood, throwing a twenty on the bar. He pulled on his jacket and noticed the time. More than two hours had passed. Camille must be worried, he thought. He finished his drink and retraced his steps to the banquet room.

* * *

Camille took the offered drink and silently vowed that it would be her last for the night. She was enjoying his company and the festive mood of her co-workers was rubbing off on her. She refused to allow Marc's foul mood to affect her. He disappeared and she stopped looking for him. Thankfully, Talib kept the conversation lively as they discussed current events, his traveling, and they danced until her feet hurt.

Camille placed her champagne glass on the table. She stood and felt her head swim. Talib stood and she leaned into him to steady herself. “You're leaving so soon,” he asked. His quick reaction brought them close to one another and she could smell his cologne.

She nodded, clenching her eyes shut to ward off her dizzy spell. “Yes, I think I've had enough for the night, besides...” She opened her eyes to find his direct stare focused on her. She could see concern in his eyes. “...we've danced and talked for most of the night.” She softly patted his arm, signaling him to loosen his grip from around her waist.

“Let me get that for you.” Talib reached over and pulled the chair back, clearing a walk space for her to move between the tables. “Camille, I'd feel better if you'd allow me to escort you home.”

Camille knew being alone with Talib was not a good idea. They got along well, but he had a way of moving past her defenses and common sense. They talked as if they were old friends and the mild hurt she felt from Marc's dismissal only made her distrust her reactions toward him even more.

She hesitated, “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

“I've been a perfect gentleman, haven't I?”

She nodded with reservation; yes, he had been a gentleman. He had made her a plate fit for a queen, made several trips to the bar, and he ensured that she did not harp on Marc's disappearance. His smile and light laughter filled the silence between them. Her throbbing head made her refocus on him; she realized she had one too many drinks.

“And we both can see you're not in a position to leave alone, right?” His voice dropped and she could see uncertainty dancing in his eyes. Where had that come from? She pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she stood assisted by Talib's strong grip.

“I want to make sure you arrive home in one piece and then I'll leave you alone.” He smiled and she returned it. His energy was contagious. “I promise...” He used his index finger to draw an exaggerated “x” across his heart.

Camille laughed at the sight before her. The devilish grin on his face made her stomach churn and she felt sleepy. She rarely drank and her bed was calling her name. She would let him take her home under one condition, “Can I trust you?” she asked in a somber tone.

Talib looked deep into her eyes and secured a random curl behind her ear. She knew he could feel the slight tremor as his finger feathered across her ear.

“What do you think, Camille?”