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Violet pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. As soon as Bryce got settled in his room, he crashed, his body aching from the accident.

The next day, after catching up on some work from the hotel, they headed back to DC, tackling the nearly five-hour drive with a few rest stops and a late lunch.

Once they arrived in DC, they stopped at Violet and Kira’s apartment, where a new vehicle from the undercover unit waited for them.

Everly met them in front of the building with the keys to the sedan. “Bye, you two, be careful.” She and Violet disappeared inside, and Bryce slid behind the wheel.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Kira asked.

“How are your legs?”

“Sore.”

“I’ll drive.”

“Well, how’s your head?”

“Sore, but I’ll still drive.”

A short time later, Bryce pulled the car up to the curb in front of their fake home and turned off the engine. Kira’s phone beeped with a text. “It’s Everly. I’ll text her to call me in five minutes so I can get inside. I’ll let you know what she says.” She fired off the message to Everly and took it easy getting out of the car. Based on her tentative movements, the soreness had set in from the accident.

Movement from the brownstone next door caught his eye. Was that the front door opening? Bryce deliberately took his time getting out of the car so he could observe.

Sophia stepped out her front door and waved. She walked around the five-foot-tall hedges separating their houses and made a beeline for Bryce. He stood by the car as she approached.

“Brian! Welcome home. But this is not your car? You got a new one, yes?”

She stood a little too close for Bryce’s tastes and rested her hand on his arm.

He pulled back a few inches and she let go. “We blew a tire on a treacherous mountain pass. It messed the Mercedes up a bit, so this is our new ride for now.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Sophia ran a hand through her long, straight black hair. “What were you doing in the mountains anyway?”

“I have some family close by, so I figured we should see them while we’re in town.” Simple answer, not far from the truth.

She glanced at the bandage on his head as if not buying his story, then took an envelope out of the pocket of her cream-colored silk slacks. “You must be a very important person. Ivan insisted we give this to you.”

She handed him the envelope, and he willed his pulse to slow.

If this was what he thought it was . . .

Her hand lingered a little too long on his during the handoff. “This is an invitation to a private art auction,” she said. “You and your wife might want to attend. Plenty of pieces to add to your employer’s private collection.”

And just like that, they were in.

He took the envelope from Sophia, but her hand never left his arm. She smiled, and he tried not to grimace.

There was nothing subtle about the woman’s intentions.

11

KIRA RACED INTO THE BROWNSTONE, nearly slamming the door as she fumed about the scene she’d just witnessed. Sophia was flirting outrageously with Bryce. The man who, as far as Sophia knew, was Kira’s husband.

Agent Hudson watched out the window. “That woman is definitely up to something.”

Kira stood on the other side of the window, acting like some creepy stalker spying from behind the curtain. But she couldn’t take her eyes off Sophia leaning toward Bryce, her hand on his arm.

“I’m going to throttle her.”