Page 56 of Deadly Charade

“Katrina!” She could see Bryce struggling against his bonds while she fought the man who hauled her backward. A second figure stepped from the parked car. He moved fast, grabbing her legs while the first man shifted his arms around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides. The trunk popped open, and Kira had seconds before it was game over.

Kira wrenched one leg free, then drove her heel back hard. The stiletto struck flesh. The man at her legs screamed and stumbled away, giving her a brief edge. She twisted hard, nearly slipping away, but the attacker behind her clamped down again, dragging her toward the open trunk. The other assailant recovered quickly and seized her by the ankles, lifting her off the ground. She thrashed, her body suspended between them—one man gripping her torso, the other her legs—a human jump rope as they hauled her toward the waiting vehicle.

They were in a more desolate area of downtown DC—not a soul in sight. If ever there was a time to believe in God, it was now. Because if they shoved her in the trunk, no one would ever hear from her again.

God. Help.

Her hip bumped the edge of the trunk—which might very well double as her coffin. She bucked hard once more, throwing her weight sideways, and the man behind her lost his balance and released her. She hit the ground shoulder first. Pain exploded, but she rolled with it.

Using the reprieve, she snapped her leg out, slamming her heel into the other man’s shins. He staggered back with a curse. Kira kicked free and army crawled under the car.

Bryce’s shiny black loafers appeared. She’d give anything for a weapon right now, but they’d left them at the brownstone, and now she wished they were better prepared for a street fight. She inched forward and watched Bryce take a swing at one of the masked men. The other assailant backed up as if he were about to bolt.

Oh no. He wasn’t getting away. She needed answers.

With Bryce busy with the first guy, Kira flipped her legs around and swiped the man’s legs out from under him. The goon toppled to the ground, and she scampered out from under the vehicle. Her dress didn’t have pockets, and her purse was in the crumpled limo. Zip ties would have been handy, but she had nothing.

The fallen attacker stood and faced Kira, but out of the corner of her eye, she could tell Bryce was having a struggle to subdue the other guy. He’d managed to pull a gun and was inching it toward Bryce’s head.

Police sirens whined in the distance. Making a split-second decision, she chose to let the other man flee. The attacker bolted while she spun to face Bryce and his opponent, locked in a struggle for control of the gun. She noted the silencer. Could this be their sniper?

Before she finished the thought, Kira jumped on the attacker’s back and wrapped her arms around his throat. He growled and tried to throw her off, but she hung tight, cutting off his air. He dropped his weapon and used both hands in an attempt to dislodge her. And still, she kept her grip, squeezing.

The guy dropped to his knees while Bryce grabbed the gun. The man finally passed out and Kira released her grip. She pushed to her feet, panting, pulling in ragged breaths and straightening her dress.

She met Bryce’s assessing gaze. “I’m all right, but we can’t leave him on the sidewalk. If those sirens are for us, we also can’t get picked up by the police or we’ll never make it to the auction.” She ran her fingers through her hair, praying she could return it to its sleek style, and took a look at her dress.

The bottom had a small tear in the fabric, but the black satin hid the dirt well. She brushed off the sand and grit as best she could. Looked like they’d be adding a few new bruises to the ones they’d collected from the previous crash. But at least neither of them had sustained serious injuries.

The sound of a motor caught Kira’s attention, and a sedan stopped next to the wrecked limo. Another navigated around the two vehicles to pull up next to them.

Violet.

“How did you—”

“Get in. Talk later.”

Kira hurried to grab her phone and purse from the back seat of the crumpled limo. Her heart stopped at the sight of the fallen agent. A family would get the worst news of their lives tonight. These bad guys needed to pay, and Kira would make sure everyone connected with this case was rounded up.

With a glance back at the agents dealing with the scene behind them, she and Bryce hopped into the back seat of the sedan. Violet merged into the traffic on the main road that had backed up due to the prior accident.

“Thanks for the rescue, Vi,” Kira said. “But how did you know we were in trouble?”

“I was following the vehicle tailing you. We were only a few cars away, but we were in a gridlock because of that accident. It took us a few minutes to navigate our way through the congestion.”

Adrenaline evaporated, and Kira’s nerves settled. “Are the police investigating the accident?”

“I placed a call to 911 as a concerned citizen witnessing the accident.” Of course, Violet had the details under control. “But Turner is already working with local law enforcement. He assigned me to make sure you get to the gallery. This is our last chance to stop the art thieves. After tonight, he feels like the trail will go cold again.”

Bryce nodded. “This is our only shot to get in. If we don’t show up, we’ll never get another invitation. We still have our cover. They attacked Brian and Katrina, so our presence at the auction is not welcomed. Maybe they don’t like the competition of someone else bidding on the statue.”

His words left no room for debate. They were doing this. Not that Kira would consider giving up. In this moment, she realized how important closing this case was for Bryce.

“But I’m not leaving your side,” he told her. “We can’t trust anyone and have to have each other’s backs.”

She took the compact out of her purse, giving her hands something to do. Bryce’s compassion about her safety always seemed to catch her off guard and she had no idea why. It had been a long time since someone had her back. What she wouldn’t do for a gun in her tiny purse, but security screening would be tight. They weren’t getting any weapons or recording devices in.

Except one.