Tuesday, November 6, 2012


An Arab man in a gray flannel suit, expensive tie and a gotee entered and approached them. "Peter," he said, grasping his hand. "Good to see you again."

Peter stood, gathering his coat. "Jason, this is Rani. Let's move to the restaurant. I'm starvin'."

They discussed their situation over a decent hotel meal of fetté and bread. "So assuming the girl who was robbed was our girl," Peter said, "I'm thinkin' they probably just ditched her in the desert. Simplest thing, right?"

"Definitely," Rani said. "And that would be the second time in the past week."

"Could she still be alive, then?" Jason asked.

"There is hope. I can envision many such scenarios."

Peter leaned back in his chair. "The car we chased down had gotten back onto the highway. We were hopin' they might've found her out there, but..."

"If that was even the right car," Jason said. "For all we know, she was right there and we just chased the wrong car."

After dinner, Rani paid for their food and they returned to the lobby. "Don't lose hope," he said. "The trail is still very warm. We have eyes and ears all over the city."

"What if she's not even in the city," Jason said.

Peter looked him in the eye. "We'll find her." They stepped out into the darkness.

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