Page 16 of Deadly Charade

“Of course,” Bryce said.

Peter gave a slight bow and made a beeline for the other side of the brick wall separating the driveways.

“Thanks,” Kira whispered as they walked toward the house. Once the door closed, she took in a breath. “That was a close one. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’ve got your back. We’re in this together.”

Bryce grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, while Kira washed her hands with at least ten pumps from the soap dispenser.

“Does trouble just follow you around?” he asked.

“Apparently it does, based on the last few days.” She pulled out a barstool and sat next to Bryce at the bar.

“Next time a heads-up might be nice. Just let me know what you’re planning to do. It’s hard to back you up if I’m caught off guard.”

She looked him in the eyes and lifted her chin. “I’ll admit, I tend to rush in based on my instincts. But maybe it paid off.” She donned another pair of gloves, then pulled a wadded-up napkin from her slacks. “I found this. It’s a random list of names or possibly places. With lines drawn through them. It’s in Russian, so I’ll need to fully translate it to see if it’s anything important.”

“I don’t want you to think I intervened because you weren’t doing a good job or that I expect you to run every decision by me. I know you have fantastic instincts. But you need to be safe.”

“Thank you. Can you put that in an evidence bag for now?” She stood and moved to the refrigerator. “I’m going to make a sandwich for lunch and then get cleaned up after my dumpster-diving incident. But I’ll make us dinner later. Then we can talk strategy, and I can decipher the napkin. Pieces are missing, but maybe we’ll catch a break.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll wait for the other agents to arrive and will try to get some work done in the meantime.”

An hour later, two agents dressed in moving company uniforms complete with logo stitched across the back arrived and unloaded the boxes that contained their equipment. Two agents, Special Agents Lisa Hudson and Carrie Kaup, were to pose as staff for the Becketts. They introduced themselves and then got busy setting up a surveillance system in the bedrooms on the top floor. He’d never met the agents, but Kira knew Agent Kaup since they worked out of the same office.

Bryce headed upstairs to his room and spent some time doing research online. He wanted more information about the Russian statue. Had someone really found a piece of history that was thought to be lost? And if so, were there more treasures from the missing crate to be found?

The smell of garlic and fresh herbs disrupted his focus. He checked his watch. Six thirty already? He followed his nose downstairs. When he walked into the kitchen, he stopped short.

Kira, decked out in a pale blue T-shirt, jeans, and an apron, had the area set up like she was on a reality cook-off show. Pasta boiled on the stove, while a sauce simmered on another burner. And mouthwatering garlic bread toasted in the oven.

Chicken parm. She remembered his favorite dish.

“Dinner is almost ready,” she said, tossing him a smile. “Feel free to have a seat in the dining room.” She had two place settings displayed, with a spinach salad bowl in the middle of the table along with butter, salt, and freshly grated parmesan cheese. How long had he been upstairs?

Long enough, apparently.

He sat while Kira floated around the kitchen like a ballerina in a recital. He could tell she loved cooking. And this shocked him.

The rough, biker-girl exterior had morphed into some sort of domestic queen. Interesting. The woman was a chameleon, and he enjoyed seeing her different colors. Quantico wasn’t easy by anyone’s standards, but Kira had completed her training with stellar performance reviews. Then she whipped up a gourmet meal like it was no big deal. He watched her remove a chocolate cake from the oven, and the scent made his stomach rumble.

He sat at the head of the table. She brought in two fully loaded plates and placed one in front of Bryce.

And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“What?” Kira took the chair next to him. “The FBI set us up nicely with these groceries. We couldn’t waste good food. I made enough so we can have this for lunch tomorrow too. But it’s just us. Agent Kaup and Agent Hudson fixed a to-go plate as they wanted to get a jump start on surveillance, so it’s a working dinner for them.”

Throughout the afternoon, she’d settled in with the ease of someone who’d lived there forever. “Okay if I say a blessing?” He usually blessed his food and didn’t intend to stop now.

Kira nodded. “Violet doesn’t skip a blessing, so I’m used to it. Plus, my parents are Christians, and I grew up going to church every Sunday.”

Interesting. She didn’t claim faith as her own but tolerated her roommate’s and parents’ beliefs.

He said a quick but heartfelt prayer and then took his first bite. The flavors melted in his mouth and his mind went rogue. What would it be like to have someone to come home to every day after work? A person who cooked and cared for him?

Not that he would expect it, but he could get used to it. Once again he found himself having to slam the brakes on that kind of thought. He’d tried that and it hadn’t gone so well. Never again. “Where did you learn to cook?” he asked between bites.

She shrugged. “I just picked it up over the years, I guess. It’s one of my many hobbies. I like to cook.”