Ahri’s heart gave a sharp little twist that made her wince. Her hand tingled at the memory of that incredibly intimate moment when Rafe had warmed her hands. She’d only seen him at Sunday dinners since, and he hadn’t been particularly attentive. It was stupid that she was both glad—hewasher boss now after all—and disappointed at the same time.
Rafe pulled up a chair besides hers. Ahri started to scoot away, but he put his hand over hers on the arm. “You’re fine. What have we got here?” He dropped his hand and leaned forward.
“We’re hoping Ahri can identify these men.” Bill started the video again, and she shifted her attention back to the monitor. He must have put it on repeat because the short clip started again automatically. Neither man said anything as they scrutinized it.
“Can you play it slower?” she asked.
He touched something on his keyboard, and the images went into slow motion. She studied the man who’d played lookout. It seemed he must have known there could be a camera because he kept his face down, his head covered by a hoodie. At one point he turned his head sharply, perhaps at a sound, and exposed his face.
“Stop,” she cried.
Bill had to move it back but then paused it at the right moment. Ahri felt queasy at the familiar face.
“That’shim,” she said, clenching the arms of her chair, “the guy who followed me. I don’t recognize the other two.”
Rafe gently covered her hand with his, and she relaxed her grip on the armrest. Once again, his touch calmed her.
“I’ll let Officer Warwick know,” Bill said.
“Do you think they found what they were looking for?” Rafe asked.
“Who knows?” Bill opened another screen. “I’ve got some more video from the funeral for you to view while you’re here. Having several people filming it from different angles gave us alotof footage to examine.”
It had taken Ahri a week before she could watch the first video he’d sent over. She steeled herself to face it. Rafe laced his fingers over hers, and she let go of the chair, clinging to his hand instead, grateful for the support.
“You identified the family members and known friends or coworkers before,” Bill said. “We’ve narrowed it down to these people.”
Ahri watched closely, not recognizing any of them.
“They might be extended family that I never met,” she said.
“Or business associates,” Bill said.
“Of one kind or another,” Rafe added, his voice soft.
Would the people who’d killed Zed have dared to come to his funeral? A shadow moved near a tree in the background. Ahri leaned in.
“What do you see?” Rafe asked, moving closer to the screen.
“Maybe nothing.” She pointed to the tree line. “Is someone back there?”
Bill replayed it, slower this time. “Could be. One of my people marked it. Might just be a cemetery employee. I have my staff working to enhance it.”
After the three of them had watched the videos enough times that Ahri’s head hurt, Bill called an end.
“Did the decoy say if she thought she was being followed?” Rafe asked.
“Does she have a name?” Ahri asked. “Or are we always going to call her ‘the decoy’?”
“Her name is Sona Rakan,” Bill said. “To answer Rafe’s question, she did spot someone following her. Since we had obvious security, no one made a move,” Bill said. “On the trip back to New York, no one saw anyone who looked suspicious. I’ll let you know if I have more,” he said.
Ahri arched her back, only then aware that she was still holding Rafe’s hand. She relaxed her fingers, and he did the same.
“It’s not exactly the way you wanted to spend your first day at work,” he said, standing. “Thanks for letting me be here.”
“Thanks for being here.” She resisted the pull to take his hand again and picked up her purse instead.
“I’m heading back to the office, so I can show you the way,” Rafe said. “Keep me updated, Bill.” He left the office, apparently expecting her to follow, so she did.
