“We wanted Firuzeh to be a person who could fight anything and survive,” Mr. Abed took over. “We chose to name her Firuzeh, which means ‘woman of triumph.’ We soon realized the name was appropriate.” He smiled fondly, even as he gripped his knees. “From a child on, she stood up for injustice. In our world that can often mean death. So we prepared ourselves for something like this. And here we are.” His chin trembled, but he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Kiley still couldn’t believe this stoic acceptance of theirdaughter’s death, but maybe they were putting on a strong face for her and Mack and would fall apart when they were alone. “Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Firuzeh?”
“No. No.” Mrs. Abed clutched her chest. “She was well loved.”
“I agree.” Firuzeh’s brother, Raheem, looked at her, his full black beard making his long face seem even longer. “Our customers really took to her.”
“She told me she had information regarding a terrorist plot,” Kiley said, hating how Firuzeh’s parents cringed at the news. “Do you have any idea where she might have heard about that?”
Her parents shook their heads while Raheem clutched his wife’s hand and bit his lip. With her free hand, she straightened her tailored green blouse and cast him a questioning look. They knew something they were afraid to mention.
Kiley needed to know what they were hiding. “Is there something you want to share, Raheem?”
His dark eyes somber, he nodded. “Firuzeh was very involved in politics on campus. She even went to group meetings at other universities with friends.”
“She attended Northern Virginia Community College, right?” Kiley asked.
“She was recently accepted at Georgetown full time for next spring,” Raheem said.
“Getting accepted to such a prestigious college was a major accomplishment.” Kiley felt even sadder for the young life cut short.
“She worked hard to save money so she could attend.” Pride filled Raheem’s expression.
“Do you think her intel could have come from the business?” Mack asked.
Raheem rubbed his hands over the legs of his worn blue jeans. “It’s possible, I suppose, but I think the schools are more likely.”
“She mentioned box number 342. I think it could be locatedat your business, and we need to find out who rents it,” Kiley said gently to try to make this seem optional when in fact she expected them to turn over their customers’ details.
“I can look it up for you when I go back to work.” Raheem sat up higher. “And I am glad to listen for any information that might help find my sister’s killer.”
“About that.” Kiley looked directly at Mr. Abed, who would likely be the decision-maker here. “We believe your lives could be in danger, and we want to move you to a secure location for your safety while we investigate.”
Mr. Abed pinched the bridge of his long nose and lifted his shoulders. “We will not run and hide. Not from these scoundrels.”
Mack slid forward on the sofa. “No disrespect, sir, but think of your family. They could wipe all of you out in one attack.”
Mrs. Abed clutched her husband’s arm. “We cannot put the children at risk. We must do as they say.”
Mr. Abed drew in a long breath and seemed to deflate as he exhaled, looking like a smaller version of himself. “We will do as you ask. For now.”
Mack nodded. “Then we ask that you pack your bags. Take nothing that could identify you. No driver’s licenses, birth certificates, credit cards. Nothing. Deputy Taylor Mills will arrive soon to take you to a safe location and will provide everything you might need.”
Raheem shook his head slowly. “What about our business? The income supports our entire family.”
“Do you have anyone else who could run it?” Mack asked.
Raheem glanced at his father, who nodded, and then Raheem looked at Mack again. “We have an employee I could train to keep things going for the short term.”
“Then we’ll arrange for the two of you to meet when you look up that mailbox owner for me,” Kiley said. “I also hate to tell you this, but the local police will want to search Firuzeh’s room. We’d like to take a quick look before they do.”
Mrs. Abed’s eyes widened. “But her privacy—”
“Has already been violated,” Mack said. “Kiley cared very much for your daughter, and she’s the best person to make the initial sweep.”
Raheem stood. “Come, everyone. Pack. I will show them to Firuzeh’s room.”
Mr. Abed helped his wife to her feet and led her into the hallway. Raheem motioned for them to follow him through a kitchen filled with the pungent scent of curry that seemed to be infused into the walls.
