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pretty primitive place in many respects.”
    “So why did these guys go back?”
    “The Somali community here has many answers to that.”
    “I know, Paul, but what do you think?”
    “The FBI’s theory is they were recruited to fight in a group called the Shabaab militia. They’re ‘freedom fighters’ for the Somalia homeland.”
    “So, what’s the problem with that?”
    “Shabaab is a militant Islamic group aligned with Al Qaeda.” Paul paused. “You can imagine that rang a few bells in the FBI and in Washington.”
    “Yeah, I guess. So, how does the victim in my case fit in?”
    “He disappeared from a high school a year ago. His parents reported sporadic contact with him by cell, but they always felt the calls were monitored by someone else because Ahmed didn’t speak freely.”
    “I saw that in the evidence material. He said he was on a jihad for Allah, and it was the purest he’d ever felt. A true believer.”
    “Right. Without his parent’s knowledge, he showed up here and was murdered.”
    “Had he been recruited by the Shabaab?” Zehra pried.
    “That’s what the Bureau and the police think.”
    “But … you hesitated. Is that what you think?”
    He had to be careful what he said to Zehra. “It’s what I think, too,” he lied.
    “I still don’t understand why he came back. Or why he was murdered.”
    Paul chuckled. “You sound like a defense lawyer—what’s the motive? The simple answer is, he didn’t cooperate. Many of these guys come back to recruit their friends. Ahmed wouldn’t do it, so he was killed—by your client.”
    Zehra didn’t respond.
    “Come on, Zehra. You’re too savvy to believe this killer is innocent. You’re no bleeding-heart liberal.”
    “I didn’t say he was innocent. I just don’t know.” She paused. “The ID isn’t great, especially since the killer wore a mask and glasses.”
    Paul remembered the lush resonance in her voice when it dipped into lower registers. Their affair had been pretty hot. They’d come close to having sex, but at the last moment, she backed-off, saying the Muslim guilt would be too much for her. “You know I can’t say anything.” He cleared his throat. “What do you think happened?”
    “The Shabaab theory sounds plausible. I wonder if the organization is strong enough here in the Twin Cities to have enforcers.”
    “They sure as hell do and frankly, it’s asshole guys like your client who scare me. What if they start directing their kids to attack us here? On some jihad?”
    “Scary thought.”
    “Zehra, I know you have an ethical duty to keep your talks with him confidential and to zealously represent him in court but remember, if you learn of any possible criminal activity that’s going to happen …”
    “Paul, how stupid do you think I am? Just ’cause I’m representing him doesn’t mean I like this jerk or believe him,” Zehra snapped. “I’m just as worried about terrorists as everyone else!”
    Neither spoke for a while.
    “Sorry. I just don’t want you to get into any trouble.”
    “Trouble? What the hell are you talking about?”
    “Just be careful; that’s all I can say.”
    Zehra said, “El-Amin’s demanding a speedy trial. So, we’ll set a trial date as soon as possible.”
    “Can you be ready by then?”
    Zehra said, “I don’t think he cares.”
    “Okay.” His voice softened. “What are you going to do now?”
    “Relax. I’ve got lots of watering to do in my garden. When I bought this place, I looked for the biggest balcony I could find. I’ve got about a dozen pots out there with lettuce, flowers, strawberries, and a few unidentified things. It’s so crowded I can hardly get around to water, but I’d die without my garden. It keeps me sane.”
    Paul sensed they were done and said, “Zehra … I want you to be careful with this case.”
    “What do you mean? The guy’s in custody, and the deputies all love me.”
    After Paul clicked off the phone, he went back to work. He