Dark Zone

37

When they reached the airport, Lia got out of the cab and went into the terminal, leaving Dean to deal with the driver.

The young man in the restroom apparently had wanted to rob her, not rape her. If the old lady was to be believed, he was an Algerian, not a local.

“Probably bribe her into keeping her mouth shut,” Chafetz had said. “She’ll be well off for a few months. Assuming he recovers.”

Lia wasn’t in much of a mood to add her own cynical comment. Maybe the old woman thought the slime had only wanted money; Lia knew differently.

Someone grabbed her shoulder. Lia spun, ready to deck him. Only at the last instant did she realize it was Dean.

“Hey, our flight’s this way,” he said.

He had a look in his eyes that she had never seen there before.

Pity?

She began walking in the direction of the airplane gate. Dean hurried to keep up.

“Hold on a second,” he said, grabbing her again.

“What do you want?” she said harshly.

“I wanted to talk to you for a second.”

“What?”

“Get on the plane by yourself. I’m going to go back and get into the office and look around. I couldn’t earlier because someone was there.”

“What?”

There were people around. Dean stopped speaking, waiting until a pair of Moroccans passed.

“I’ll catch a flight in the morning,” said Dean.

“You think it’s a good time to go back?”

“As good as any. There’ll only be one guard, if he’s not busy taking his friend to the hospital.”

“Well, let’s go then.” Lia started back toward the terminal entrance.

“No, you take the plane.”

“Let go of me, Charlie Dean,” she told him as he grabbed her. “I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

They locked stares. The taste of her stomach rose into her mouth, but she pushed her teeth together hard, steeling herself against it.

“All right.” said Dean finally. “Let’s talk to the Art Room about it and get something to eat.”

“No, first we figure out how we’re going to do it, then we tell the Art Room,” she said. “Let’s get a taxi.”