Page 50 of Deadly Charade

Kira approached. “Sophia, are you all right? We heard the shot.”

The woman turned, and Kira noted the mascara running rivers down her tear-stained cheeks. “It’s simply awful. That man tried to break into our house. He had a gun, and the security guard had no choice but to take him down.”

Why was Derek breaking into the Dominiks’ place? It didn’t make sense. Had he followed them back to DC?

Could Derek have been the culprit behind their collision? It didn’t seem likely.

A police officer approached to take Sophia’s statement. Kira wanted to listen in, but the officer walked the distraught woman back to his patrol car. It would be too obvious for her to follow.

“At least I have an alibi for this murder. I wasn’t here.” There was no mistaking the voice behind her. Ivan strolled up next to her. They faced the house and watched the police examine the body.

Kira stifled a groan. Against her better judgment, she needed Ivan to talk, without tipping her hand to anyone watching—or listening. “What happened? Was this a simple breaking and entering?” She had to remember to keep up her New York accent and attitude. But exhaustion started to play with her mind.

“You shouldn’t be here, Katrina.” Ivan’s voice bellowed across the yard. “Where is your husband? I will escort you to your place where it is safe.”

They walked toward the sidewalk, and Ivan lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “You stirred the hornet’s nest. Someone didn’t like you talking with Derek, and I suspect someone shot him and then staged it to look like a break-in. The man had become a liability and had no useful information.”

“I heard a shot.”

His shoulders shrugged in a so what manner. “I’m sure someone fired a gun. What I’m saying is that someone is cleaning house. They’re eliminating everyone who might be standing in the way of the treasure. I think Derek’s lawsuit got him into hot water and they dumped his body here to keep the Dominiks in line.”

Who was they? Kira decided to tread lightly so Ivan might share more. “It’s not like Derek had information. He seemed clueless as to the value of the items he donated.”

Ivan swiveled his head left and right. They approached the steps that led to her front door. “He hired some high-priced lawyer, claiming rights to Zaika. A lawsuit was forthcoming. But with Derek gone . . .” He flicked his hands as if washing away the problem.

“Who has the two statues?”

He paused at her front steps. “There is an unsanctioned Russian organization running things. They aren’t tied to the government, and their mission is to find lost Russian art. I’ve been tracking them for a long time. If anyone has the statues, it’s them, and they are desperate to own the third.”

The words from Fenton Young’s note came to her mind.

These rabbits are the key.

“Why should I trust you? Because as far as I can tell, you’re in pretty tight with the Dominiks. Who’s to say you aren’t after the treasure all for yourself?”

Ivan’s nostrils flared and his eyes darkened. “That treasure belongs in a museum, not stuck in some underground bunker. And definitely not sold for scraps on the black market.”

“Is this Russian secret society running these illegal auctions?”

His silent nod confirmed her suspicions.

“Does this group have a name?”

She assumed he wouldn’t answer, but he let out a breath and faced the street. “Amber Crown Society. They’ve been hunting for the Amber Room for decades. Just like the Collector supposedly stole the art in the name of protection, the ACS seeks to reclaim what they believe is rightfully theirs. I think they moved in the second that rabbit statue surfaced and found the other two before anyone knew to look for them.”

This matched Everly’s intel. They were searching for the ACS.

He turned back to face her. “I’ve told you plenty and now you owe me. Go home, Kira. Don’t attend the auction. The more you and your husband investigate, the more you’ll be stepping over dead bodies to get what you want. And next time, I might not be in the area to help you out of a jam.”

The man spun and walked away, as if he were some gentleman escorting a woman to safety.

But that man wore danger like a cloak.

Bryce rubbed a hand over his face. What had he gotten himself into?

Not the active crime scene at the brownstones, but the almost-kiss with Kira. He struggled to tear himself away from the woman. Saved by the gunshot sounded harsh, but that’s exactly what had transpired. The unwelcomed interruption had kept him from crossing the uncrossable line. He’d backtracked through the brownstone to come out through the basement door that led to the garage. A quick search and he’d head back to Kira.

Bryce wasn’t sure exactly what he hoped to find. If security guards had shot an intruder, they could easily clear things up with the police by providing the gun and explaining their situation.