Page 26 of Belgian Betrayal

Hyperaware of her surroundings, she studied every corner and stairwell before entering and then studied the faces of the patrons viewing the great artist’s work.

No one stood out or appeared to be watching them as they moved through the museum, climbing the stairs to the level containing the Almond Blossoms painting.

When they reached the correct floor, Catya entered slowly, her head lowered. Only one other person was in the room, and it wasn’t Atkins.

A young woman with a backpack stood in front of the dusty-blue painting of almond blossoms. She turned and smiled as Catya and Fearghas walked in.

“It is very beautiful, yes?” she said in Dutch.

Catya nodded and responded with a gravelly voice. “Yes. Very beautiful.”

The girl sighed. “I could stare at it all day.”

Catya fought a groan, hoping the woman wouldn’t stay.

A quick glance at her watch made her heart skip a beat. Atkins should have been there by now.

Catya’s mind ran through possible scenarios and reasons why he wasn’t there before them.

One reason made her second guess agreeing to meet him there. What if Atkins had set her up again and planned on blowing up the museum with her in it?

How could she get people to leave quickly before the place exploded? Maybe they wouldn’t set off the explosives if she wasn’t there.

Dressed as she was, they couldn’t know she was there. Could they? Unless Atkins had told his demolition expert she would be there when the museum opened.

On the verge of darting out the door, Catya turned and almost ran into a man striding into the room.

He wore a zip-up hoodie, jeans and a baseball cap with NY embroidered on the forehead portion.

Catya might have looked past the man if not for the sunglasses he wore. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied his facial structure, his nose and the little scar next to his lip, making him appear to be sneering.

She’d noticed that scar when they’d met the morning of the Rosolino mission.

Anger burned in her chest, and she clenched her fists. She took several breaths to tamp down the rage.

Fearghas moved up beside her, placing his body between Catya and Atkins. He leaned on the cane, his free hand tucked into his pocket.

The young woman glanced at the man, dipped her head and left the room.

“I’m sorry I bailed on you,” Atkins said, his tone so soft Catya could barely make out his words.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you. Here. Now,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I came to give you what I took,” Atkins said.

“Why now?” she asked.

Atkins hunched his shoulders. “The stakes are too high. I can’t afford to screw this up.”

Catya snorted. “Whoever wants it thinks I have it. Isn’t that enough? They expect me to bring it to Bruges by midnight, or they’ll kill more of the people I care about.” Her voice lowered even more as she bit out, “They’ve already murdered my parents.”

Atkins stared at the beautiful painting that should have inspired peace and tranquility. “I heard about your folks. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t bring them back.”

“I know. That’s what brought me here to find you,” he said. “I need help and don’t know who I can trust.”

Catya let out a short laugh. “And naturally, you think you can trust me…?”

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