Page 13 of Deadly Charade

The warning message blared through his brain like a high-pitched train whistle—loud and irritating. He’d spent countless hours tracking stolen art and the smuggling ring and wouldn’t let anything hinder his investigation. Especially the intriguing stranger with black-now-auburn hair whom he had to pretend to be in love with.

4

KIRA FELT LIKE SHE’D DOVE headfirst into the deep end without a life vest for her new role as an undercover Special Agent. She pressed her feet into the floorboards to keep her legs from bouncing, refusing to expose any hint of nervousness to Bryce. Brian.

After perusing the paperwork, she still needed more information. What was Bryce like? What made the man tick? In order to understand Brian, she required a few more details about the man driving her to their new home. “Quick question. What is your favorite food?”

Bryce glanced her way at the abrupt question before returning his eyes to the road. “What?”

“I just want to get to know you a little better, and these tidbits might come into play.”

Bryce nodded. “I love a good Italian meal. Breaded chicken, pasta, with a rich garlicky sauce. But shellfish doesn’t agree with me, so no seafood. What about you?”

“Anything smothered in cheese. But mainly tacos or any kind of Mexican food.”

“Lots of cheese. Got it. My turn. Are you nervous at all about this assignment?”

She shifted in her seat. Not the kind of information she wanted to share, but she’d play along. “A bit. Everything happened so fast I just haven’t had time to process.” She waved her hand toward the neighborhood outside the window. “This place is way out of my comfort zone. Check out the size of these houses.”

They rounded a hill that led to a gated subdivision. Rows of townhomes drifted by as they drove down the immaculate, oak-lined street leading to their temporary residence.

“I feel the same way. But we’re both professionals. We’ll get the job done.”

The property sparkled. Hedges were neatly trimmed and uniform, separating the stairs that led to each unit. There wasn’t so much as a stray leaf on the cobblestone sidewalk that ran in front of the houses.

“These homes are massive,” Kira said, twisting in her seat to take in a three-sixty view of the area. The street was lined with buildings of four three-story homes each. Not a blade of grass was out of place on the well-manicured yet small front yards. Kira gave a pleasant nod to a man walking a well-behaved golden retriever.

The road ended at a park, with a cross street connecting to other homes. The Dominiks’ was the end unit on the left.

Bryce made a U-turn and pulled up to the curb in front of their new home, next to the Dominiks’. “Welcome to the lifestyles of the ultrawealthy. I’ve met a few millionaires when I worked at an art gallery but never had a firsthand view into their homes. It’s so—”

“I think the word you’re searching for is adequate.” Kira shot him a mischievous wink, grabbed her pink designer bag and suitcase, and exited the car. No way was she letting him live down his goofy choice of words. And she needed to get him to lighten up a little.

“This place is definitely way more than adequate.” Bryce rounded the car, grabbed his bags from the back seat, and stood with her in front of the walkway that led to the front door. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They walked up the stairs to the front stoop, and her gaze slid over the ornate archway above the door that set the tone for the whole place—excess and opulence. “These dark brown bricks give me haunted house vibes,” Kira said, her head on a swivel, eyes scanning the area. “There are way too many hiding places in these tall hedges, not to mention the people living in the brownstones that surround us. I wonder why our new neighbors chose this neighborhood.”

“Because it’s in the right zip code and costs more money than I’ll make in a lifetime. It’s all for show.”

Bryce used the key Turner had provided and pushed open the heavy wood door.

Kira shoved a hand in her pocket and palmed the portable RFI detector that she’d pulled out of her bag earlier. She leaned in close to Bryce and whispered, “Don’t say anything until I’ve swept the place.”

The entryway on the first floor opened up to a spacious living room, with high ceilings, white crown molding around the edges, and an electric fireplace. The open concept allowed them to see the entire area—the living room opening up to the dining room and kitchen in the back. Stairs in front of them led to the second and third floors as well as to the basement.

Kira wasted no time. She scanned every inch of the four floors, starting in the basement, which was used for storage. Bryce had put their bags in the dining room, and by the time she returned, he’d set up his laptop at the countertop bar that separated the dining area and kitchen.

She approached Bryce, and the device lit up, close to where he had dropped her small bag behind him. His eyes widened.

And then she remembered. “False alarm. The entire place is free from all bugs, both electronic and the creepy crawlies.”

She reached into the borrowed bag and pulled out an AirTag. “Violet puts these on just about everything she owns. She’s got at least twenty, and we can always find Violet if she ever goes missing. I think she may have invested stock in the company. Or she’s just quirky.” She pointed to the bag. “That’s hers.”

The fine lines around Bryce’s eyes returned to a normal, relaxed position. “I’m glad we’re all clear, but . . .”

“Why the AirTags?”