Page 55 of Deadly Charade

“Got it,” Kira replied. “All of these men and women may be after Zaika. I guess we’ll have to wait and see who shows up to bid in the backroom auction.”

“As far as the Becketts go, Brian has a fifty-million-dollar line of credit with the auction house. We’ve already provided proof of the funds and set up the bank account—or so they think. All you have to do is bid.”

Everly signed off and Kira disconnected the call. “At least other agents will be available for backup. We have several undercover inside along with agents stationed outside the building and even on the roof.”

She stashed the phone in the world’s tiniest black purse. How did she fit anything in there?

“What’s the plan, Bryce?” Kira asked. “Do you want me to make a beeline for Sophia and stick with her for the evening? I do think we need to divide and conquer.”

He’d had the same idea. They could observe both sides of the room if they separated. But somehow, the thought of her—in that dress—in a roomful of rich piranhas gave him heartburn. “We should stick together as much as we can. We’re newlyweds, remember? But if you watch Sophia, I can keep an eye out for Ivan and a few of these other dignitaries. Sophia will stay close to Alex, so you’ll be able to watch those two. I also want to cover the door to the stairwell that leads to the area behind the main room—where you found the murdered security officer. I want to keep track of who comes and goes.”

DC traffic slowed their progress. The driver opened the partition between the front and back of the limo. “I’ve radioed the car behind us. I’m turning off the main road because of an accident.”

“Thanks for the update.” Bryce checked his watch. They’d built in a buffer of time, but the delay caused his mind to generate a list of all the ways this mission could go sideways. For once, more was at stake than just his mission. He had Kira’s back to watch.

Or rather, his wife. Katrina Beckett. She checked her makeup in a compact mirror that she’d pulled from her magical bottomless purse. After he’d sworn off relationships, was it possible for him to open his heart and take a risk? After the mission, of course. He didn’t know. And that bothered him.

“Kira, I’ve got your back. No matter what. Just remember that.”

She smiled, a wide, genuine grin. “Thanks. I’m grateful for our partnership, even if it’s a bit weird to be married day one of meeting someone. It makes for some great reality television, but I never assumed I’d be living it.”

Maybe someday they could test those waters.

Brakes squealed. The hard slam knocked the wind out of him.

14

EVERY MUSCLE IN KIRA’S BODY seized at once. Not again.

Kira blinked, trying to clear the smoke from her field of vision. They were in the back of the crumpled limo. Something had struck them. But what?

Or who?

She unbuckled herself. “Bryce?”

“I’m okay, Kira. I’m just tangled in the seat belt. It worked, I just can’t get it undone.”

“I’m good too.” She checked her face and head for cuts. She’d have a second bruise on her shoulder from the seat belt. The glass in the window next to Bryce had spiderweb cracks.

“What happened?” she yelled to the driver over the hissing sound from the radiator. She looked over to Bryce, who struggled against the seat belt.

No answer.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Bryce.”

She slid forward as far as possible to the partition. The front of the vehicle folded in on itself from the impact—a collision with a light post on the side of the road. It sliced the hood almost in two and crunched the front seat toward the interior of the limo. But between the smashed front seats and the airbag, she saw the man’s arm. Following the arm up to the steering wheel, she saw the driver’s face. And the hole in his forehead.

“Oh, no no no. Sniper took out the driver. We need to get out of here.”

Bryce yanked the seat belt. “It won’t budge. Do you have a knife in that purse? Might need to cut me out.”

Where were the other agents who were supposed to be behind them?

She moved to help him, but something hammered the window by her head. The glass crashed around her and one arm snaked around her neck, another under the right armpit. And then she found herself sliding out the open window on her side.

“Katrina!” Bryce’s voice faded. She tried to struggle, but the arm around her throat was making that difficult. Her kidnapper dragged her down the sidewalk, toward a parked car on the street.

She twisted to get a look at her abductor, but all she could see was a shadow of black and ruthless dead eyes.