7 SAM
We hadn’t exchanged a single word since leaving the apartment. I wondered if all Americans were as rude as my grandparents always claimed. When I was younger, they used to broadcast their anti-American views with real passion.
We walked through Cairo’s alleys to Hiran’s place. Hiran and I had met a while back, when I was chasing a lead on another couple who’d disappeared during an expedition in Alexandria.
“I thought you were going to help me get into the morgue,” Connor grumbled.
“We can’t get in without a key.” I stopped in front of Hiran’s door and knocked.
A moment later, movement at the window caught my eye—Hiran, who didn’t look too happy to see me.
“I told you never to come here again,” Hiran roared as he opened the door. Connor stepped forward protectively, but I stopped him.
“Hey... Hi, Hiran. Long time no see!” I smiled at him.
“Since I almost lost my job because of you,” he snapped. “Whatever you’ve gotten yourself into now, count me out.”
“I just need a quick look at a body...” I tried to argue, but Hiran ignored me, nearly slamming the door in my face. Connor’s foot stopped it.
“I already said I’m out, Samantha,” he said, then turned to Connor. “And bringing this white gorilla to intimidate me won’t work.”
I wanted to laugh but held back to avoid making things worse for myself.
“He’s not here to intimidate you...” I said. “The body belongs to a friend of his.”
“I need to see him before he’s sent home.”
“You mean the guy who came in today?” Hiran said, surprised. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to see him like that.”
“Why?” I asked naively.
“Because he was gutted,” Connor replied.
“It’s a lot worse than you think,” Hiran countered.
“I’m used to it.”
“Hiran, I swear this is the last time I’ll ever ask you for a favor,” I pleaded.
“You said that last time.”
“But I wasn’t serious that day,” I pressed. “About anything.”
“Yeah, I got that part too,” Hiran said, offended.
“Please... he just wants to say goodbye,” I said, giving him my best sad, seductive look.
Hiran stared at us for a long moment, then disappeared inside. He came back with a blank badge.
“This card gets you into most places...” He held out the card, and I reached for it, but he pulled it back. “But it won’t get you into the room where they put your friend.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“If you get caught...”
“I won’t be,” Connor said, emphasizing the singular. I stared at him but decided to pick my battles.
Hiran handed the card to Connor and closed the door, but not before lecturing me about where to leave it when we were done.
Once we’d left Hiran’s street, Connor stopped for a second before saying the most ridiculous thing.
“You can go now.”
My sharp, irritated laugh rang out through the street.
“Are you kidding me? I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.” He ignored me and started walking toward the main road. I followed.
“I’m the one who got the card,” I countered.
“Pretty sure I got it.” I buzzed around him like a fly as he walked down the street.
“Excuse me? If it weren’t for my connection to Hiran...”
“Did you sleep with him?”
“What?!” I said, taken aback. “That’s none of your business.”
“Then the answer is yes.” He stopped to stare at me before walking on.
“You know what?” I spotted the badge lanyard poking out of his pocket, and pure instinct made me yank it free, card and all. “You’re an idiot and you don’t deserve my help.”
“Give that back,” he said irritably, reaching for the card, but I dodged. “You’re being childish.”
“I couldn’t care less what you think of me,” I shot back. “I’m not giving it back.”
“This isn’t a game, brat.”
“Brat? How old do you think I am?!” Obviously a lot younger than him. “You know what? Screw it.”
I started walking again, heading for the morgue.
“If you want to get in there, you’d better start walking, White Head,” I called out, noticing he was still standing in the middle of the street.
I didn’t look back, but I heard his boots pounding the ground after I’d put several meters between us. His strong legs soon let him catch up.
He said nothing, and neither did I. It was late, and the only person around was the receptionist leaning back in his chair watching TV. Connor seemed surprised when I pretended to be distraught and distracted the receptionist, who let us in to see my supposedly deceased grandfather.
“That was good. I almost believed it,” Connor commented as we passed through one of the five doors we’d have to clear.
“I did theater in school.” We continued down the hallway, passing through a few more doors until we reached a small vestibule with three doors.
One led to the bathroom, and the other two had “Employees Only” signs—exactly the signal we needed.
“Must be in one of those two rooms,” Connor growled.
“Well observed, Sherlock,” I said dryly, pulling the badge from my pocket. “Let’s do this!”
I pointed toward the first door.
“I don’t know.” Connor positioned himself in front of the other door. “I think this one’s more likely.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. They’re identical,” I grumbled.
“They’re not.” He pointed to a mark on the wall at waist height. “Those are gurney marks.”
“Or just a sign this building needs renovation.” I didn’t want to admit it, but they really did look like gurney marks.
“Is it that hard to admit I’m right?”
“You have no idea,” I grumbled before tapping the card on the reader beside him. The door opened and we slipped inside.
To my dismay, this still wasn’t our final destination. We continued down a hallway that curved a few meters ahead.
“The cold room must be there.” I pointed to a set of double doors with a keypad.
Connor stepped in front of me and started toward the room. Then I heard a beep from one of the doors we’d passed and panicked. My immediate reaction was to grab him and press us both against one of the hallway doors.
My fingers flew to Connor’s mouth when he started to protest. The movement threw me off balance, and he had to steady me by wrapping his hand around my waist and pulling me against him—since he wasn’t fully stable yet either.
The footsteps grew louder and Connor spun us around, pulling us out of the doorway’s line of sight and pressing my back against the wall.
His chest pressed my body against the wall, making me push back in a silent struggle for space. We stared directly at each other, and I felt the heat of his breath warming my fingers, sending my senses slightly off-kilter.
When the footsteps began to fade, my fingers slid slowly across his lips while our eyes searched each other, trying to solve some unspoken riddle. Is it really hot in here?
“Thank you,” he whispered without letting go.
“Y-you’re welcome.”
Connor finally stepped back, and I did my best to compose myself, though I could still feel the pressure of his muscles against mine, my skin burning where we’d touched.
He peeked through the door before we stepped out and left that moment behind.
We continued to the door, and I tried to peek through the small windows.
“This is definitely it.” My attention turned to the small glowing keypad blocking our way. “Any tricks for this?”
I asked as Connor stepped between me and the keypad.
“You’re always invading my personal space, Detective,” I grumbled, stepping back.
“Must be because you’re always in my way, Samantha,” he shot back.
Connor lifted his shirt, exposing the salt-and-pepper hair around his navel. I watched him for a long moment as he worked the latch on his belt buckle.
To escape the image—and the temptation—I fixed my eyes on the hallway, pretending to keep watch.
“Your version of events is completely absurd,” I grumbled without taking my eyes off the hallway.
“If you’re the one telling it, probably.”
Then I heard a noise, and when I looked for Connor, he wasn’t beside me. He wasn’t anywhere, actually.
“What the hell!” Then I spotted his silhouette through the small glass window. “You left me outside?”
Connor shrugged and disappeared into the medical examiner’s room. I would have screamed if I could. But all I could do was curse him silently.
“If I get arrested, I swear I’ll kill you. Ammit will be the least of your worries.”
“Miss?” The receptionist who’d helped me suddenly appeared, coming from the opposite direction.
“Hi!” I saw Connor’s shadow moving in the room behind her and burst into tears.
“Is everything okay?” She approached, trying to calm me down.
“It's so hard.”
“I understand, miss. I'm so sorry you have to go through this.” She led me to the exit, making me leave Connor behind.
Before we exited that area and Connor was officially trapped in the morgue, I tossed the blank badge to the side of the hallway, near a broken water fountain on the wall.
“I'll get you some tea,” the girl said, sitting me down in the chair facing the hallway. “Your friend... where is he?”
“In the bathroom. He has a sensitive stomach,” I answered between tears faker than my Gucci bags.
As soon as she left, I ran out of the building and lurked across the street, ready to flash my tits if I needed to create a distraction.
“What a fine mess I got myself into,” I muttered to myself.