She didn’t have to do anything about it, she reminded herself. Acknowledging it was enough.
“Who will I look like this time?” She’d managed to keep her voice light.
“Yourself.”
“No disguise?”
He shook his handsome head. “There will be no need. Sutton understands the way the game is played. He’s a professional.”
“Augustine?”
“Yes?”
“If I wasn’t there, would you have killed all of them?”
There was a tiny pause before he answered. “It would’ve been bad for business.”
Lila let out a tiny woof. Diana sent a reassuring flood of calm down the link.Yes. Spectacular, isn’t he?
They entered the lobby and took the elevator to the eighth floor. It released them into a hallway with a small reception area. The colors were brown and beige. A row of square canvas paintings lined the wall, depicting thin abstract swirls the color of cinnamon on eggshell backgrounds.
A man in his early twenties sat behind the desk, typing away on the keyboard. He was redheaded, with a pale face and thick glasses, and when he turned away from the screen, he smiled.
“Hello, can I help you?”
“Montgomery for Sutton,” Augustine said.
“One moment.” The receptionist picked up his cell and texted.
His phone clicked, announcing an incoming message.
“Please go ahead,” the man said.
Augustine turned to the left. They walked down the hallway to the third door on the right. He knocked and swung it open, not bothering to wait for an answer.
The office was large and dim. Heavy green curtains blocked the sunlight. A cheap, mass-produced rug in matching green sheathed the floor. In the middle of the room, a single desk ofdark wood supported a laptop and a simple table lamp. One chair behind it, two in front. No bookshelves, no plants, no decorations.
A man sat behind the desk. Her eyes adjusted to the low light, and she could pick up on his features now. He was in his sixties, with a broad frame, made even wider by the cut of his dark suit. His silver hair and white beard contrasted with his bronze skin, and his maroon glasses frames matched the plum color of his dress shirt.
Lila hesitated. A trickle of unease dripped down their mental link. Something was wrong with the room.
Augustine shut the door, walked up to the chairs, and held one out for her. She sat. Lila lowered herself next to her, sitting on her haunches. He took the other chair.
“Prime Montgomery,” Sutton said quietly.
The other man seemed relaxed. No apprehension in his eyes, no tension in the pose, no excessive sweating. And yet there was something about him that felt off.
“Sutton.”
Diana focused on Sutton, sinking into a deep, calm place. In her mind, a thick tree limb formed above the room. She sat on it, watching herself and the two men from above, letting her senses take in the room, process the cues, and identify the wrongness.
Sutton looked at her. “And who might this be?”
Augustine didn’t answer.
“She looks like Prime Harrison. Not a bad choice, all things considered.” Sutton squinted at her. “Given the friendship pact, it makes perfect sense. But who is that really under the mask?”
Augustine ignored him. “I’m looking for a contractor.”
