Page 5 of Devious Knight

They head to the section with notebooks and pens depicting famous paintings and pick up a bunch. Then they make their way to the counter with their arms full.

I muster up another smile. “Great to see you again.” Even my voice sounds strained, like a very old person struggling to talk.

“We just had to come back and get these.” The lady chuckles.

“We? You mean you, love.” The guy sounds more royal family-posh than she does, but I love her accent, too.

“Okay, me then.” She rolls her eyes at him then focuses on me. “I love notebooks and stationery. I love Jacopo Bassano even more. He was such a poignant artist.” She holds up the notebook with the image of the 16th century painting of Penitent St. Jerome.

“I agree. I love him, too.” That’s true and not autopilot-me talking. “He’s one of my favorites. I love The Last Supper. He really brought the scene to life with the emotions he depicted on the people in the painting.”

Like last week, she looks impressed by my knowledge. Most people look at me that way when they hear me talk about art and realize I know my stuff.

“I hope you’ll consider visiting me at Cambridge after you finish your studies. I can’t wait to see what your future holds.” She smirks. “I imagine you’ll impress the hell out of many people in the art world.”

I give her a real smile. “Thank you.”

“Take my card and stay in touch.” She hands me a business card.

“Thanks, I will.” I take it and put it in my pocket, feeling that old spark of myself peeking through my gloom.

I check out her stuff and pack everything while she and her boyfriend tell me about life at Cambridge. I listen intently, stepping away from my worries about the man for the few minutes they keep me occupied. But every dark feeling rushes back to me the moment my new friends leave.

The dreadful bell jingles when they walk through the door but I’m so desperate to see the man that I look, once again wishing he would magically appear.

Of course he doesn’t, so I fall right back into that depressing abyss.

What if something bad happened to him?

Like he’s injured.

Or… dead.

No. I don’t think so. Now I’m being silly.

He was a big guy. And he was a Knight. A member of one of the most prominent secret societies on this planet. So he was no ordinary man.

My mother’s family was one of the original founding members of what they call their Brotherhood. That meant I grew up with their principles around me.

More than anything, I know that they know how to take care of themselves. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be Knights. So I don’t think anything bad happened to the man.

That doesn’t mean I should think the other thing either–That the man got the information he wanted and now he’s left me high and dry.

Or maybe he has.

Would he really do that? He seemed to genuinely want to help me.

It was because of his help that I was able to confirm that Parker Federov was the last person to speak to my mother before she fled for her life and ran into the trap that took her away from me.

Parker Federov was my mother’s boss. The man was able to uncover the call records between Parker and my mother. He was also able to confirm that Mom was in trouble at work. Telling me all that information was how the man got me to trust him. And help him.

All I needed to do was verify that Parker was the person responsible for arranging my mother’s murder.

That’s it. If I could get that key piece of information I would get the justice Mom deserves. And myself.

I was only twelve when my mother was killed.

I was also there that night.

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