The Lioness

  The Lioness

  By Mary Moriarty

  Copyright © 2015, Mary Moriarty

  Kindle Edition

  RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected by the International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is strictly prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electric or mechanical, including photocopying, blogging, emailing, recording, or by any digital information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Prologue

  He looked up at the sound of the door opening. His captor stood there just staring at him, his hands holding onto the door jam, white knuckled. Ty’s thoughts swam. This was it, or something had happened, happened to Rose. That would be the only reason for the strange look and expression on the captor’s face. He had so much as told him in so many words that he, too, loved Rose. Who wouldn’t love Rose once you met her? She was so full of life, love. She showed compassion to all whom she came in contact with. His Rose, the one who had been like a quiet mouse. She had turned into a stormy tempest when he had been captured. The insurgents called her The Lioness, trying to get back what belonged to her. They admired but hated her in the circles of those who held Joe. She had been bullying people from the Ambassador down to the leaders and clerics of the country, trying in vain to win his release. Then to the very President of the United States. She left no one out in her campaign to win his release. When all else failed in the proper channels, he heard she’d started moving in circles that were too dangerous. He hadn’t slept in what seemed weeks but in reality was only days, wondering, worrying what she would do, how far she would go. They had even allowed a couple notes from her to him. She had admitted she’d go to any lengths short of selling her body or soul.

  Ty put his head down in his hands. Whatever his captor had to tell him, he would tell him in his own good time. He felt sick. If it was of his impending death then he would go, at least knowing Rose had tried. She had even secured a short visit with him. How she managed that only God knew. If, by some miracle, he ever got released, he would then ask her, but from the looks of things, well it didn’t look good.

  “Her hotel was attacked.”

  Ty’s head shot up. He wasn’t sure if he heard right or if it was a dream.

  “What did you say?” Ty asked.

  The captor came in and sank to the floor, his head low. “Her hotel was attacked by multiple bombs, from what it looks like. Then an air strike or a tank, reports are confusing. We still don’t know, and we don’t know about Rose. She was just dropped off. She didn’t look good, the driver said when she got out. She stumbled, he said and he would have helped but too many army personnel were around. They got through the barrier, she got out and stumbled. A soldier came up and escorted her by taking her arm. They went straightaway into the hotel. He said it wasn’t long, maybe ten minutes when the first explosion happened and then….”

  Ty stood up and he walked quickly to the door, then stopped. Looking down at the captor, he saw only sadness. “What do you know? Is she among the dead? Tell me, you have to tell me. Or better yet, let me go, let me go search.” He sank to his knees and faced his captor. “Please for the love of Rose that we both share, and I know you love her, let me go. I can’t live not knowing.”

  He was met by empty eyes. “My life is nothing if I let you go and it’s nothing if she dies. I would never have a future with her. She’s from another world, I would be imprisoned. She deserves better, so much better.” He brought his hand up to Ty’s shoulder. “She deserves so much more.”

  Chapter 1

  Three weeks earlier, Phnom Penh Cambodia

  Rose stood with a soft drink in her hand. She wasn’t even in the mood for a wine. They had been passing around drinks and appetizers when she had arrived. She had been one of the first. She had only come out of a favor for her father. He had asked her to make sure she made the opening night of the exhibit for Tim Page and his book that he helped to edit with Horst Faas, Requiem: By the Photographers Who Died in Vietnam and Indochina. Her dad had worked with Mr. Page before he was severely injured jumping from a helicopter. After that they had gotten into the anti-war movement together. Since both were journalists, they shared a common bond. Sharing their love for photography, they had worked for years trying to locate the remains of another common friend, Sean Flynn, who had disappeared one day with another photojournalist, trying to get that one great story and great shot. This was something she had been around all her life. That had been the spark, the catalyst that had started her on the road to where she was now.

  She looked around. There was a mix of ages and she could see a lot were about her age. She walked around and saw photos done by her mentor. She had been such an inspiration, being so young when she started back in the 60s. Rose had used that as an argument with her parents. She said college would be fine but she needed the experience and so with what little funds she had, she started her life’s work. Dropping out after one year of college and the funds for the next year in her bank account, she struck out. She smiled at one young photojournalist who had dogged her steps from the airport. He was looking for someone with common ground, but he was too squeaky clean for her. She turned back and walked to the balcony that looked out as she watched the traffic, cars and humans pass by down below. Then she saw a Vietnamese house boat come up the river. The Tonle Sap, just below where the boat came floating up, merged with the Mekong, flowing across the street. She loved this area of the world. Whenever she got the chance she came back to Cambodia, spent as much down time as she could here. She loved the country and its people. The place was rich in history and culture.

  She took the last sip of her soda and turned to see the waiter coming up to her. “I’ll have another soda and I’ll take a plate of those appetizers.”

  “I’ll be right back with that drink.”

  “Thanks, you can just put it here.” She placed the plate down and took one of the spring rolls. That and the nachos would hold her. Maybe she’d go out later and get a bite to eat before turning in. She didn’t plan on staying long and, turning to get another spring roll, she saw the young man start heading her way. She turned quickly but at the last moment she caught a movement and saw he was waylaid. Mm, rescued, for the time being.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, it was just she didn’t want his company. She didn’t want anyone’s company, not since Ty. Ty Madison had spoiled her for any other man.

  She looked out at the river and saw the boat had stopped for the night. The sun, bright and giving off a wonderful show for her. made the river look like a golden ribbon. Sunsets were her favorite time of the day.

  That made her think of the first time she’d met Ty personally. She had seen him around, seen his work, which was excellent, but she had never worked around h
im or with him. She tended to work mostly on her own. There had been a couple times when she had worked with another writer for National Geographic, especially when she was covering the conflict in Kashmir.

  This time was different. She had received a call from her dad saying he had received a phone call from a Tyler Madison and he wanted her to contact him. She had felt like a giddy schoolgirl. He was one of the best freelance journalists out there. Spending months with the army in Afghanistan embedded, he had covered a lot of conflicts since getting out of college. He was now thirty-six, if she remembered right. No, his birthday was coming up the third of September. She remembered the date because she arrived in Kabul the first of September, which was her birthday and the first time she was to meet him.

  She had stood outside the airport with her bags at her feet. She came lighter this time. She had been in Afghanistan before, but by herself. She was glad someone was meeting her. She’d scanned the crowded, looking for Tyler Madison. He was well over six foot, and would stand out. He was tall, dark and very handsome. She remembered seeing him at a party on New Year’s six months before when she was with her last boyfriend. They had been dating off and on but that was to be the last time they would be together, both realizing it just wasn’t going to work. They had parted friends, which made her happy. She hated a bad ending.

  She had seen Ty come in on the arm of some beautiful woman. She was all legs and arms and had enough curves to make a Formula One racer happy. So the rumors were true. He liked beautiful women. She had heard the stories of his parties and the women. Somehow his reputation with his work and his private life just didn’t jive. Well she didn’t care about his private life right now. He had asked her, Rose O’Malley, to work with him, here in Afghanistan. He had said on the phone he really loved her work, her ability to show, even through the photos, the sensitive side of what she was trying to get across to the people. So here she stood waiting for Ty Madison to pick her up.

  She shifted uncomfortably. The sun was setting. Her flight had been the last one and there were only a few stragglers around. She had been wise to get out her scarf and cover her head in the airplane before landing. She had kept completely covered the last time, not even her hair showed. Her hair was a dead giveaway, well that and her eyes. Auburn hair and bright blue eyes, courtesy of the O’Malleys. She stood out, just like he must stand out. She was scanning the thin crowd when she saw him and another man, an Afghan, head her way.

  Despite being over six feet he walked with a grace that reminded her of a dancer. It was so hard to think right at the moment, and she was having trouble breathing. She was meeting him for the first time and she was about to faint. She’d had a serious crush on him since she started out working. He had been doing what she had for at least six years when she struck out. He was well known for his compassion when dealing with difficult situations and he had seen and been through a lot.

  He stopped in front of her and smiled and she thought if she had to die at that moment she would die very happy indeed. Tyler Madison had smiled at her. When he smiled his whole face lit up. God get a life Rose, he’s asked you here ‘cause he likes your work. Nothing more. He probably has a string of girlfriends and he’s more than likely not interested in an Irish Catholic girl. Smile and act professional, not like a gawky teen.

  “Rose O’Malley, I’m Tyler Madison. I’m so sorry we’re late. This is Noori, our translator, driver, and guide.” He stuck his hand out and smiled again, and she realized, again, he had the warmest smile and most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. God, she hoped she wasn’t drooling.

  “I would know you anywhere, Mr. Madison. Thank you for taking the time to pick me up.”

  Tyler smiled at her again. “I don’t want to hear you calling me Mr. Madison, call me Ty, all my friends do. Also Mr. makes me feel old. I can’t be that much older than you.”

  “You’re six years older than me in fact, by a few days.”

  “Good, call me Ty, like I said all my friends do.”

  She felt good and smiled. “Ok, Ty. Thank you for picking me up. I was getting a bit nervous.”

  “Well let’s get you out of here and back to the house.” He picked up her bags and they followed Noori out into the parking lot. “I’ve rented us two rooms from Noori’s Aunt, who will be our cook. There are a couple other reporters there as well.”

  She followed along, listening to his wonderful voice. So smooth, still a trace of the south there, making it glide off her like very warm honey. His voice was something she wouldn’t get tired of. His voice could go into a nest of vipers and make them roll over. They got to an old army jeep and Ty piled her things carefully in the back

  “Here, you sit up front but put something over your face. The dust is awful this time of day.”

  She sat in front but turned around and looked into his eyes again. She felt frozen for a moment. God, his eyes, they are so incredible. “Could you reach in my backpack, front pocket and grab my scarf, I have a bright pink one that I bought in Cambodia. The Cham muslin there, love color. Pink really is not my color but I love it.”

  She felt his gaze, intent, “No, blue or green would be your colors, but pink is nice.” He reached into the pocket, pulled the scarf out, and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed briefly and she felt an electric charge go through her fingers as her eyes glanced from the scarf to his eyes. He smiled just a little bit, then let go of the scarf into her hands.

  “You must be tired. We’ll get you settled in and Noori’s aunt will fuss over you and get you fed. She loves to have someone to cluck over. Reminds me of my Mom.”

  Boy she loved his voice. She’d give anything to hear that forever.

  Rose jolted. She heard his voice and it wasn’t from her memory. He was here but how could that be? He was supposed to be in Iraq again. He was spending forever there, dug down, going all over the country, getting stories. Wouldn’t she love to be doing that, with him, a team again? She turned around and there he stood. Not only him but a group and on his arms were two very pretty young women, Vietnamese from the looks of it. What was he doing, that wasn’t him, or had he finally let his rep take over? It saddened her, he wasn’t like that. He had told her the stories of his parties and the women had been exaggerated but what could he do if people believed what they wanted. He was attractive and he attracted beautiful women. He loved to talk with them but he had said most of the time he went home alone. He loved quiet.

  She watched the women and saw one looked like she knew his arms pretty good. She let her hands glide up and down, gently caressing his biceps. All the while her face staying on his. The other had her arm around his waist. Well he looked like he was making up for lost time, a little rest and relaxation. She turned, she felt sick and a tightness clamped on her heart.

  Ty came up the stairs with a few buddies he had seen at the airport. He was just coming up the stairs when two women, hookers from the looks of them, or as they said here in Cambodia, taxi girls, closed in. Before he knew what was going on they had him and were coming up the stairs with him and the others. He had been standing there looking around the crowd when he saw her. He had heard she would be here and knowing Tim Page was a friend of her Dad’s, he knew she’d make it for this exhibit. Just as he had hoped to catch her eye, he saw her turn and grab her bag. He had to think quickly and get rid of these two women. Spying a piano over in the opposite corner from her, he apologized to his two unplanned escorts and walked briskly over to the piano. Thank God for piano lessons when he was younger. Being the son of a pastor he had been needed from time to time to fill in for the piano player when she was sick. He actually liked it and after a while he would spend hours composing his own stuff. That’s why he loved this piece from Brian McKnight and he knew she loved it. He had sung it to her a couple of times. He played the opening part to “Back to One” and waited.

  Rose heard the piano and turning saw him there, playing with his eyes closed. She had never heard him play, though knew he could. The song was
one of her personal favorites, one he had sung to her when she had been sick in Afghanistan. She had fantasized that he actually meant the words he had sung with such feeling.

  She saw him open his eyes and then knew without a shadow of a doubt that the words he sang, he meant. She walked over, keeping her eyes on him. She came up and stood there next to him as he sang. There were others there but he sang to her, no one else. She saw his lips, heard the words, felt them. She could just picture them as they left his mouth, soaring over him, to her, searing her body and soul and then hitting her heart. Then she felt the impact. Like a hard electric jolt, straight to the heart.

  She started to mouth the words back to him in the chorus and swayed with the music. She was smiling, really smiling for the first time since leaving him in Banda Aceh, six weeks earlier. She felt the tears stream down her face. She knew she was a goner. He had her, there were to be no survivors tonight, not that she cared.

  Ty stopped playing and held the last note, watching her face and seeing the tears but mixed with her sweet, sweet Rose smile. She was his dream come true and he had found her. It had taken some doing. She had been traveling around but when he had heard about the book and the exhibit he knew she’d be here. Also, he knew she loved Cambodia and she had been working straight since Banda Aceh so she needed a rest.

  “Hello Rose, I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, Ty, I’ve missed you too.” She reached and touched his arm and he reached up to brush the tears that were coming down unashamed. He turned to his name being said . The women that had come up with him were making a beeline for them and the few that stood around the piano.

  “Oh there you are. You are very bad, to leave us like that. We want to go out and dance and have a good time.” Ty looked at Rose, “Sorry they kinda attached themselves to me when I was coming in. I didn’t invite them, really. I was here, looking for you.”

  Rose looked into his eyes and knew deep down he was saying the truth. “I believe you, it’s not you. Though I must say I thought maybe you had decided to go for the gusto tonight after being in Iraq all this time.”