Page 12 of Grave Danger

“Good. I’ll walk you out.”

Jack led her past the reception desk in what was once a living room, out the front door, and down the front steps. Flashes of moonlight broke through the sprawling limbs of a century-old oak tree as they crossed the lawn to Zahra’s car.

“I look forward to meeting Yasmin,” said Jack.

“She knows nothing about this.”

“Understood. We’ll keep it that way as long as we can.”

She shook Jack’s hand. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” said Jack.

Zahra climbed into her car. Jack closed the door, the engine started, and she drove away. Jack watched until the red taillights rounded the corner and faded into the darkness.

Her mommy needs her.

Those words raised a host of questions. Apparently, “Zahra became Ava” was something his client meant quite literally. Or maybe the real explanation wasn’t apparent at all. Either way, Jack knew exactly where their conversation would pick up in the morning.

Jack started back inside, across the lawn, and through the darkness. The moment he passed the oak’s massive trunk, something—someone—appeared out of nowhere, flattening him like a passing bus. Before he could react, he was facedown in the grass. His attacker was sitting on his kidneys, and a cold steel blade was at his throat.

“Don’t move,” the man said. He had a wad of cotton or something in his mouth to distort his voice. “This is about Zahra, not Ava. You understand me?”

Jack heard his words, but he was too overwhelmed to understand. “Whatever you say.”

The blade slid higher up Jack’s neck. “No! Not ‘whatever I say.’ If you make this case about what happened to Ava, someone is going to get hurt.Nowdo you understand?”

The message was much clearer, and Jack burned those words into his memory:What happened to Ava.

“I understand,” he said.

“Good. Now, keep looking at the ground. Don’t get up till you count to a thousand. And don’t you dare call the police. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Count out loud!”

“One, two—”

“Slower!”

“Three,” he said, and with the short pause that followed, the blade pulled away from his neck. “Four,” and the man’s body weight lifted from the small of his back.

“Five... six,” he continued, his count much slower than the echo of fleeing footfalls on pavement as his attacker faded into the night. He stopped counting at ten and sprinted across the lawn, up the front steps, and into his office. He grabbed his cell and dialed. Zahra answered.

“Zahra, it’s Jack. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Fine. I just got home. Is something wrong?”

Jack quickly told her what happened.

“Oh, my God,” she said. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Everything’s going to be just fine. But let’s not take any chances. I want you to lock your doors and stay inside. I’m calling the police now.”

“No! Don’t call the police! It will only make things worse!”

The attacker’s warning was still in the back of his mind:Don’t you dare call the police.