Page 10 of Deadly Charade

Violet added lipstick and more makeup to Kira’s purse—another borrowed item from Vi’s closet. “Thank you. It helps to have a lot to work with.” She tossed Kira a cheeky grin, then sobered. “Just know that Everly and I have your back. No matter what.”

Kira’s eyes watered, her throat suddenly tight. Some days her lack of blood family hurt, left her feeling down. But today, having Violet and Everly in her corner was all the family she needed.

Violet circled Kira. “You’ll have to make sure Mr. Lambert keeps his hands to himself.”

Kira and Everly laughed. “He’d be insane to try anything,” Everly said.

Kira had some time to kill before Bryce arrived. Not much, though. She hadn’t had a moment to breathe, let alone to fully prep herself for this mission. She headed to the balcony and sat at the bistro-style table. The chill in the air reminded her that winter was around the corner. But she’d relish the final days of autumn temperatures while she still had them.

Time to get this over with. She pulled the materials from the manila envelope and began to read.

Katrina Beckett. Age thirty-five. She paused. “What?” They couldn’t have made her younger, like her actual age of thirty-three? She rolled her eyes and kept reading.

Art buyer from Manhattan. Married to Brian Beckett. Too bad Kira hadn’t paid attention in art history classes in college. She’d need a crash course from Bryce with his knowledge in this area. She couldn’t risk coming off as a giant fraud.

Everly joined her on the balcony and set two mugs of coffee on the table. “I’ve been assigned to help you on this mission. My team lead has created your fake online presence. Dropping breadcrumbs in the dark corners of the web that you and Agent Lambert—I mean Brian Beckett—are interested in acquiring some particularly rare Russian art pieces for your billionaire boss.”

“Glad I have you in my corner.”

Everly nodded. “Just be careful. I know you’re not used to working with a partner.”

“I don’t think getting along with Bryce will be my biggest problem.”

Everly froze, her gaze intense. Kira followed her stare. “Is that—”

“Yes. That is definitely a man hiding behind a tree, taking pictures in front of our building.”

Kira and Everly picked up their mugs and calmly moved inside. Violet joined them as they flanked either side of the sliding glass door. Kira peeked through the slats and watched the man adjust his telescopic camera lens and point it straight at their apartment once more.

Bryce pulled up, parallel parked in front of a Chinese restaurant, and glanced up to Kira’s loft apartment. This area of DC combined restaurants and shops with high-rise apartments. Kira’s building took up the entire block, with offices, businesses, and restaurants under the apartments. He questioned how she could afford a nice place, but he’d heard she had two roommates. He’d met Violet Bancroft once, and she came from money. Her father was a senator from Georgia.

And here they were. Partners. Soon to be “spouses.” He couldn’t unravel the knot forming in the pit of his stomach. His and Kira’s inexperience bothered him on many levels. They had no idea what they were walking into. So the goal was to get in, find intel, and hightail it out of there. Too much room for error. If anyone suspected that he and Kira were anything other than newlyweds . . .

He’d have no way of protecting her.

The knot tightened.

Movement caught his attention. A man dressed in black pointed a telephoto lens in the direction of Kira’s apartment.

What in the world?

Bryce eased the door to the Mercedes open and moved toward the cameraman. Before he got within ten feet, the guy bolted. Bryce gave chase, dodging walkers, dog leashes, and tourists milling around the area. At least the obstacle course of the DC suburban sidewalk slowed the dude down.

Bryce didn’t get a good view of the man’s face but ran down a checklist in his mind to ID him later. About six foot. Muscular, like the guy lived in a gym. He had dark features and jet-black hair.

The suspect tripped over a chair from a restaurant’s outdoor seating. Bryce picked up the pace, but as he raced across the entrance to the underground parking lot for the building, something hard and metal walloped him in the face.

“Ah!” Pain radiated through his skull and he staggered backward, hand to his head. He opened his eyes to find a blurry woman holding a trash can lid like a shield. He blinked, bringing her into focus. Tall, gorgeous reddish-brown curls, warm golden-colored eyes. He rubbed his aching temple.

“Bryce? I’m so sorry. I saw the man running and assumed he had a partner. I can’t believe I whacked you with the lid.”

“Kira?” Wow. Like . . . wow.

She lowered the lid. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Nothing some ibuprofen won’t take care of.”

“I meant to hit the other guy.”