Page 61 of Deadly Charade

She willed her knees not to buckle as she opened the door to the restroom. Bryce headed to the men’s room, and she made sure the area was empty before entering the code. The door opened and she met Bryce in the secret room between the two bathrooms.

Her heart skipped a beat when he shot her a smile and grabbed her hand to help her down the stairs.

Making out with Bryce Lambert. Whew. Actually, Katrina Beckett had just made out with her husband in the hallway. Not Kira. Not Bryce.

The whole thing was a sham. The relationship. The kiss. This was just her playing a role, nothing more.

We are Katrina and Brian Beckett. This is all pretend.

She drilled that mantra into her head until it stuck.

Too bad Kira’s heart wasn’t buying any of it.

So that just happened.

Bryce tried to shake the tingle from his lips and the heat from his face. That kiss might have been a stunt to keep the gallery attendant from spotting Kira, but now he just wanted more.

More kissing. More Kira.

He willed his sanity to return so he could focus.

At the bottom of the stairs, he reached for the gun he hadn’t brought. No weapons. Only his hidden camera that could take a few more pictures. Bryce prayed for protection as they emerged into the hidden chamber, which was more like a cave than a place of business. The objects up for the black-market auction lined one side of the room, with chairs set up for the bidders.

The room already had six people in it—five too many for Bryce’s tastes. Alex and Sophia were in one corner of the room by the chairs, talking with the sheikh who had placed bids in the upstairs auction. A different Asian man sat, making notes on a notepad. That must be Chen Liwei, the name Everly mentioned as a potential buyer. Making the sheikh most likely Samir Al-Fulan or someone who worked for him.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Bryce turned to see Theo the treasure hunter enter the space. “Last chance, Beckett,” the man said, spreading his arms out wide with some sort of invitation to join him. “You can work with me, for a price, and I can get you what you are looking for.”

Bryce shook his head, and Theo sat down next to the Chinese private collector.

Bryce leaned over and whispered in Kira’s ear. “Where did Theo get the money to bid? They verify bank accounts and make sure the bidders are good for it.”

She shrugged and mouthed, No idea.

Bryce and Kira stood by the wall next to the only entryway. He didn’t relish getting trapped in this coffin-like room full of piranhas, waiting to tear each other limb from limb over who could pay the most money for a hunk of rock.

An elderly yet regal woman descended the stairs.

“Julianne Bishop,” Kira whispered in his ear. Her nearness sent an electrical current racing through his body.

He had to get his head in the game.

A man Bryce was not familiar with entered the room and walked up to a small lectern in front of the chairs, next to the three items up for bid. “I’m Davis Steadman, owner of the gallery.”

Bryce’s eye twitched. He’d heard that name before.

Davis Steadman was on the FBI watchlist. They’d tied this guy to the art smuggling ring. But no one had any hard evidence to put him away.

Until today.

He and Kira took seats in the front row and Steadman continued. “Today, we have three items up for bid. Whatever your amount due is, we will add to the price of your legitimate bid for the paintings upstairs. Auction items 25, 32, and 41 will need to go for the amount you bid on one of these items. We’ve planted a few bidders to help bid you up.”

Bryce bit his lip to keep from smiling. So this was how they got away with the laundered funds. They bid on “real” pieces to pay for the priceless works. The owner came out even and laundered the money by auctioning three fake paintings upstairs whose “real” value rivaled the illegal sales. Any auditor might wonder why a particular painting had a jacked-up value but would be hard-pressed to track it to an illegal sale.

Genius.

But just how much would Zaika go for?

The stairs groaned once more. Bryce looked over his shoulder. Ivan entered the room and took the remaining seat behind him. He nudged Kira. “Don’t look now, but Ivan just got here. Let the games begin,” he said, then adjusted his bow tie to capture the gallery owner’s face.