Page 69 of A Touch of Treachery
I focused on the first flare of gray, then another, then another, studying everything my synesthesia was pointing out.The corner of a rug that was flipped up.A long, ugly scratch on the side of a table.A cracked pane of glass on one of the lamps.I studied each imperfection in turn, then moved on to the next one.
Eventually, my gaze settled on the shelves closest to Henrika’s desk, and two tiny flickers of gray caught my attention.Curious, I headed in that direction.
Two framed photos were sitting together on a shelf to the left of Henrika’s desk, and both pictures were positioned so that they would be in her line of sight while she was working.My heart quickened with excitement, and I bent down and studied them.
The first photo was in a silver frame, but a crease ran down one side of the image, and the bottom right corner was torn off.My synesthesia had picked up on the flaws, but the truly unusual thing was the photo itself.
Unlike the posed shots on the other shelves, this photo showed a teenage Henrika smiling wide at the camera, her arms wrapped around another smiling teenage girl.Henrika was the picture of young, dewy health, but the other girl was obviously sick, with pale skin, sunken eyes, and a bald head.My stomach clenched, and memories of Grandma Jane floated through my mind.I was willing to bet this girl, whoever she was, had also had some form of cancer.
Besides Petra Halstead, Henrika didn’t have any other known siblings, so who was this girl?A cousin, maybe?A friend from school?The girl must have been important for Henrika to still have her photo all these years later.Or maybe Henrika was playing another game, letting me think I had gotten some revealing glimpse into her psyche when the photo didn’t mean anything.
I thought about it for a few more seconds, then discarded the idea.Displaying a photo of a sick kid just to mess with your enemy was a shitty thing to do, even for Henrika.Besides, my synesthesia would have warmed to a bright pink if the photo had been doctored.No, this was a real photo, and Henrika had been friends with the sick girl once upon a time.
I plucked my phone out of my purse.The device didn’t have a signal, but the camera was still working, so I snapped a shot of Henrika and the sick girl.I didn’t know how—or even if—the photo might help me or the mission, but it was always better to have as much information as possible, especially about an enemy.
Once that was done, I turned my attention to the second photo, which was another posed shot showing Henrika shaking hands and smiling at a man in a dark business suit.Instead of an office, the two of them were standing on a terrace with a colorful sunset and glimmering ocean in the background.I snapped a photo of it as well, then tucked my phone back into my purse.I started to turn away from the picture, but something about the man’s wide, toothy smile caught my eye, so I took a closer look.
Dark brown hair and eyes, light brown skin, a nose that was slightly crooked from having been broken multiple times.Shock spiked through me, and my breath caught in my throat.
The man in the photo was Feliciano Salvador—the cartel leader who had captured my father during the Mexico mission.Why would Henrika have a photo ofhim?
Nausea roiled in my stomach, but I examined every single inch of the photo.Henrika and Feliciano were standing on a stone terrace that overlooked sparkling waves.More nausea bubbled up in my stomach.I’d studied enough Section surveillance photos to recognize Feliciano’s seaside villa.
More shock spiked through my body.Henrika wasn’t lying.She really did know what had happened to my father becauseshe had been there.Henrika had been in Mexico, at Feliciano’s villa, when Jack Locke and the other cleaners had been sent to eliminate the cartel leader.
Once again, I reached out with my synesthesia and studied the photo.No grays appeared, no pinks, no reds, no colors of any sort.Just like the photo of the sick girl, this image was also genuine.Not only that, but the way Henrika was looking at Feliciano ...well, it reminded me of the way I looked at Desmond.
How had I not discovered this in my research?Had Henrika and Feliciano been involved?Was that why she had been at his villa?Or had Henrika had other business with the cartel leader?
Behind me, a door creaked open.Footsteps scuffed on the rugs, and a whisper of air flowed through the library, kissing the back of my neck like an unwanted lover.I froze, still bent over the two photos.
“I was wondering where you’d run off to,” a familiar voice drawled.“I should have known you would have come straight here to collect your winnings.”
I straightened up and turned around.Henrika stood behind me, along with Bryce and two guards, all of whom had their hands on their guns.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DESMOND
Theguardgrinnedandtook a little better aim at my chest with his gun, which featured a suppressor.He advanced toward me, crossing the snow-crusted clearing in a few quick strides.I remained by the security light, my hands loose and down by my sides.Adrenaline surged through my body, skittering through my veins like a chemical form of electricity, and I relished the natural high.
I loved this part of being a spy too.
The guard stopped a few feet away.“Bryce said you’d come out here, but I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to actually do it.”
Annoyance spurted through me.Bryce had known I would search the woods for Henrika’s lab, and he’d planned accordingly.
A sneer twisted the guard’s face.“Bryce also said you were some big-shot assassin, but you don’t look so tough to me.”
I flexed my hands.“Well, if you’re so tough, why don’t you put that gun away, and we’ll see who the deadlier man truly is?”
The guard grinned again.“Nah.I don’t feel like getting your blood on my jacket.Did you know Henrika makes us buy and replace our own uniforms?”He shook his head.“That’s some cheap corporate bullshit right there.”
While the guard complained, I flicked my left wrist and discreetly palmed the knife I’d tucked up my sleeve earlier.I also had a gun nestled in the small of my back, but I couldn’t draw it before the guard shot me.Besides, the knife would be quieter.
“We even have to replace the nametags.”The guard gestured at the silver tag on his green jacket that readFLOYDin bold black letters.“Want to tell me what you’re doing out here before I shoot you and call for backup?”
I shrugged.“Isn’t it obvious?I’m looking for Henrika’s lab, just like everyone else is.”
