By disposing of both bodies we would never know the truth." And he believes that one of the bodies was that of Dom Pedro?" Ibrahim asked with trepidation in his voice."Rashid could not tell me that for certain," Ishmael admitted slowly, "but he thought it might be, considering that he believed that two European men fought in the clearing as they are the only ones here about who wear hard-soled boots. He did find one thing that makes him believe that the priest was there." What was that?" Bartholomew inquired without hesitation."This," Ishmael stated, holding up an ivory set of rosary beads in his hands that were stained with blood. "Rashid found this lying on the ground by the water where the boat had been tied up. As far as he is concerned, the priest is dead. As for Dom Pedro, I fear as does the hunter, that he has been kidnapped and carried off." No," Ibrahim gasped loudly in protest and denial."Yes, old teacher," Ishmael sighed in response, brushing aside Ibrahim's protest."Then. " I call him an asshole all the time." I joked, cutting my eyes at her just in time to duck the pillow flying at my head. I grabbed the pillow and threw it back at her, laughing, grateful for the shift of the mood in the room.I joined her on the bed and started tickling her, like I had done when we were younger. She thrashed around, squealing, and trying to get away from me while laughing her ass off the whole time. The world felt like it just consisted of that room for a few minutes. I don't know how else to describe how I was feeling at that moment. It wasn't erotic or sexy. I wasn't trying to sneak a feel of her. This was just dumb c***dish fun, something we hadn't done in a long time. We collapsed on the bed, both sweating a little and gasping for breath. I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling, having worn myself out for a moment and trying not to stare at her heaving chest.Amy scooted over near me and laid her head on my chest with one arm d****d across me, in a slight.
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