A Delicious Mistake (8 page)

She
had adopted the coping mechanism of centering herself in anger. Whenever the
grief became so much that she couldn’t breathe with the fierceness of it, she
would call up the anger and hatred she had inside. It was the only way she
could keep herself from trying to imagine what Luke must have gone through in
his final moments. Tobias Bankole had told her what his father couldn’t—Luke
hadn’t been just murdered, he had been mutilated. When she’d been told that
truth, she’d had to hang up to rush to the bathroom to throw up. She hadn’t
told her mother. And she hadn’t told her father that she knew, although she
planned to do it one day. It wasn’t right for him to carry the burden of this
knowledge alone.

But
not today.

Today,
she had more pressing matters at hand. Snapping her leather bag shut with more
force than was required, she glanced around her room to make certain she had
not missed anything. Whoever was responsible for what had happened to her
brother was going to pay. Dearly.

Just
like Bankole, she had very little to go on, but her intuition told her she
needed to make this trip. She hoped she would discover Benjamin Ndlovo was
innocent, but since he
was
the police’s prime suspect, she would make
him hers, too. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him, she wasn’t
even sure she would find the strength to speak to him when she finally had him
standing in front of her.

However,
there was one thing Sarah knew for certain. She was actually grieving for two
people. The murderer had robbed her of her brother and quite possibly of a good
friend. She wasn’t sure she would ever to be able to look at Benjamin in the
same way she once had—certainly not as a girl who adored an older boy. Whether
he was involved with the murder or not, this might forever taint her
relationship with him. A touch of blame flared in her heart that somehow
Benjamin hadn’t protected Luke, as he once had when the two men were both boys.
She knew that she was being unfair, but she couldn’t help it. She hated
everything that happened. She mourned, too, for the Africa from her childhood.

In
one night, with one phone call, Sarah had lost her past, her present, and
possibly her future. Once she got to the bottom of this, when she returned to
England, her Africa—the land of innocent enchantment—would be lost to her
forever. She would never set foot within its borders again.

She
sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her packed bag and suitcase. For a
second the energy she had clung to left her. She allowed herself a moment to
feel her loss to its deepest core. There was nothing she wanted more than to be
able to run across the plains of the Serengeti again. To be a
gazebra
again.
To write the name of Benjamin Ndlovo in her diary again and gush over him to
the unresponsive pages that held all of her deepest secrets. To sleep under the
stars, although back then she had complained to no end and made a huge fuss
whenever her father and brother would take her along to one of their frequent
safari expeditions. How she wished now that she had appreciated those
excursions more. Stupid, spoiled brat that she had been.

There
was nothing Sarah wanted more than to have her brother back. That wasn’t
possible. So there was really nothing she wanted more than to find his killer.

Chapter Five: Continental Crossing

               
Despite her trying
not
to think, there wasn’t much else to do on the
flight from England to Africa. She had to endure three plane changes, the last
one taking her onto a chartered six-seat, twin-engine aircraft. The small craft
shook and trembled with every billowing current it encountered, leaving Sarah
clutching the seat in front of her and swallowing pretzels and soda water to
combat a fluttering stomach. She had brought a book with her, but she couldn’t
read without feeling like she might throw up on the pages at any given moment.
She really wasn’t programmed for travel. She liked home and comforts and good
restaurants and soft beds. She wasn’t like Luke.

Sarah
sighed heavily as thoughts of her brother invaded her mind for what had to be
the millionth time. She leaned against the window and shut her eyes
tightly—both against the aircraft bouncing and the memories that rose up so
easily, ready to assault her with a fresh wave of regrets.

Anger
, she thought desperately.
Find your anger and hold on to it.

It
really wasn’t healthy, but what else could she do?

Late
in the afternoon she finally landed on Tanzanian ground. The arrival seemed to
have been timed perfectly by some higher power from above with a sick sense of
humor. She got out of the cramped airplane and stepped onto the narrow,
pathetic excuse for a landing field. It looked more like a dirt patch. Landing
airplanes kicked up more dust than a passing twister. But Sarah was treated to
a view that anyone else would call “breathtaking.” The Serengeti plains out to
the horizon. Further along still, the red globe of the setting sun lit the
savannah with reds and golds and colors that could take anyone’s breath.

Despite
everything, Sarah found a small, nostalgic smile had begun to form on her lips.
She snapped herself out of it, wiping away that moment of melancholic longing
with a deep breath. She didn’t have time for being sentimental. She couldn’t
fall into the trap of Africa’s charm—she would not fall back in love with the
place. Not now, and not ever. The memories were too painful now, and if she
wasn’t careful, she would have to come to terms with her grief while she stood
on the solitary plains of Tanzania. She couldn’t do that. This wasn’t the right
time or place.

Retrieving
her bags from a disgruntled pilot who hadn’t quite appreciated her scathing
looks during the flight whenever the aircraft fell into a new turbulence, Sarah
gave the man a few extra bills for his trouble. He smiled widely, his bad mood
seeming to lift in an instant. She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. She
hoisted her duffel over her shoulder, grabbed her suitcase, and walked away
from the hellish plane.

It
wasn’t long before she spotted the car that was supposed to take her from the
scant airstrip to the Hutton Game Lodge. The vehicle was a Jeep much like the
ones she knew the rangers used, although somewhat less equipped. The rest of
the lodge staff didn’t have to fight off poachers. She walked briskly up to it,
already working furiously to form an action plan. She needed to do this
methodically or else she risked getting lost in her African past.

The
driver stepped out of the Jeep as soon as he saw her. She knew at once he must
be Maasai, no other tribe produced men so tall or so handsome. A flicker of
disappointment caught at her, followed by relief. She had thought Benjamin
might meet her, but she wasn’t ready to face him. Not with her clothes rumpled
and her nerves exhausted from travel and worry. And did it say good things or
not that Benjamin hadn’t come? She didn’t know. Instead, she studied the man
who had come from the Lodge. In his forties, with deep brown eyes, she decided
he had an easygoing air that she liked.

He
greeted her with a smile and extended his hand. “Tendai Conteh.”

Sarah
shook his hand, brisk and businesslike. She wanted to be friendly, but she found
with some dismay that she had no idea whom she could trust. “Sarah Hutton.”

“Miss
Hutton.” His smile dropped away. “I’m so deeply sorrowed for your loss.”

Sarah
nodded, startled by the lump that suddenly squeezed her throat. This was the
first time she had acknowledged Luke’s death with anyone outside of her family.
She hadn’t even said anything to her girlfriends back home. She hadn’t known
how to even begin to explain the enormity of the situation to them. She had
only told them she was taking a trip to Tanzania to visit her family’s
holdings, and she had to do her best to ignore their proclamations of envy.

She
cleared her throat and managed a thank you that she was proud to realize
sounded clear and devoid of tears enough to fool any stranger into believing
she was actually handling this well.

Tendai
took her bags and put them in the back seat. He even opened the passenger’s
door for her, and Sarah found herself offering him a genuine smile. “Thank
you,” she said and hoped she sounded a lot more sincere this time. “You’re a
gentleman, Mr. Conteh.”

He
smiled shyly at her and went around the car to climb behind the wheel. He
lurched the vehicle away from the airstrip, taking off with such a sharp
movement that Sarah fell back and then almost slammed her nose against the
dashboard.

“Apologies,”
Tendai said. He spoke well enough but his accent betrayed his broken English.
“The ground is tricky and I’m not used having a lady on board.”

Sarah
laughed. It was probably the first one since she’d had since she’d heard the
news of her brother’s death. It felt good. “I’m no lady, Mr. Conteh. Not on
this trip.”

Tendai
shot her a sideways glance. “What do you mean?”

“I’m
not here on vacation, Mr. Conteh.”

“No,
of course not—”

“I
intend to find out what really happened to my brother.” She stared at him,
daring him to say something. He might as well know now.
Everyone
might
as well know.

If
Tendai Conteh was surprised to find out that Luke Hutton’s little sister, who
hadn’t set foot outside of the comfortable Western world ever since she had hit
puberty, had come to the Serengeti on a mission by herself, he didn’t show it.
He nodded wordlessly, as if he understood. Sarah had the distinct feeling he
truly did, and for some reason that upset her.

After
a few minutes, she said, “I don’t remember you from the last time I was here.”
 She had been trying to place his face, and couldn’t. It was probably a
good idea to get acquainted with anyone who worked at the lodge—anyone who
might know something.

“I
have only been working for Mr. Hutton for four years,” the man admitted.

Sarah
instantly realized that by Mr. Hutton he meant Luke and not her father. A hint
of melancholy in the man’s voice told her just how fond he had been of her
brother. She wondered if the rest of the staff and the rangers had held Luke in
such high regard. Somebody clearly hadn’t.

No
, Sarah berated herself.
Don’t
go there. Don’t fire off accusations yet. Don’t jump to conclusions. You don’t know
that it was one of them. You don’t know that it was Benjamin. You don’t know
anything.

“He
was a very good man, your brother,” Tendai said, startling her out of her bleak
reverie.

Sarah
nodded. “Yes, he was,” she said quietly.

The
rest of the drive was spent in blissful silence. She stared out of the Jeep at
the savannah speeding by. The small roads around the airport gave way to dirt
paths. Just as she had predicted, the endless plains of the Serengeti didn’t
bring her any relief. She didn’t feel free and she most definitely was
not
at peace. The beneficial effect Africa had had on her when she had first
arrived—and when she’d been a girl—was gone, possibly forever. As they drove on
and the distance to the Hutton Game Lodge shrank, Sarah’s heart grew heavier
and heavier. The knots plaguing her stomach grew tighter and tighter. The
weight of the pressure she had chosen to put herself under by taking on this
mission began to make itself painfully known.

This
wasn’t a pleasure trip—it was the furthest from a pleasure trip as humanly
possible. She hadn’t been as fond of Africa as Luke was, but she
had
been
fond of it to some notable extent. Not anymore, she realized as Tendai Conteh
brought her closer to the place she had once called her home away from home.
This trip didn’t feel the same as it had when she had made the journey
alongside her family. Luke’s death had changed Tanzania for her, and Sarah
found no pleasure in the stark beauty of the sun setting over the Serengeti
plains.

She
stole a sideways glance at her driver. He seemed like a good man, but who was
to say? Could you ever really know anyone? If she couldn’t even trust Benjamin
Ndlovo, who had been a brother to her own brother and almost a son to her
parents, whom could she trust? Was there anyone in the district where she was
headed she could truly turn to in case of necessity?

Perhaps
she hadn’t thought this through. It was one thing to set out in search of the
truth. It was another thing not to know to whom she could present that truth. Well,
she could certainly always go to the police—assuming she didn’t get herself
killed.

No, I won’t think along those lines.

She
pushed a hand into her hair and pulled its heavy weight away from her face and
neck. She had pulled it back but the wind from the open Jeep whipped loose long
strands. In the setting sun, she thought her hair looked almost like it had
caught fire—perhaps it was that anger still burning in her leaking out. She
clung to that and pressed a hand on her stomach. She would find her truth, and
she would find a way to make sure that it was heard.

When
her family’s lands and the lodge finally came into view, Sarah’s heart skipped
a beat. She recognized most of it. The compound which had been fenced in to
keep out most of the wild animals. A half dozen mud huts around the edge of the
compound. A few canvas tents, one of which would feed the staff and the other
for basic nursing care. And the main lodge—a two-storey building made of local
woods with a deep, wrap around veranda. It alone looked to be a building from
another era, for it had been built by her grandfather. She forced herself to
maintain her composure, which she felt was beginning to slip out of her grasp.
Tears stung her eyes. Luke wouldn’t be stepping from the veranda to greet her.
He wouldn’t be grinning at her, his blue eyes alive in his tan face. She bit
her lower lip. No one seemed to be here to greet her.