Page 52
“You need to stop asking questions. It will get you and that pretty wife of yours killed.”
Footsteps sounded behind them and a voice called out. “Brian!”
Kira! He wanted to yell at her to stay away, but the gunman had other plans. A sharp pain radiated across the back of his head, and he hit the dirt beneath the shrubbery.
13
“BRIAN!” KIRA’S VOICE BOUNCED off the row of buildings behind theirs. She couldn’t untangle the knot that had formed in the pit of her stomach. Bryce had gone out back and never returned her follow-up text.
Two officers with flashlights walked by, aiming their beams in bushes and driveways. She nodded when their lights washed over her.
“Everything okay?” the female officer asked.
“My husband went for a walk, and I wanted to make sure he was all right after what happened next door.”
The officer nodded. “We’re sending everyone home, so we’ll find him and let him know. And you should head inside as well.”
“Thank you, Officer. I will.” After she found Bryce.
She checked her phone. Still no text. She headed the opposite way from the officers, toward the intersection of the road that contained another row of brownstones.
Had Bryce found something? It was unlikely that he’d wandered too far away, which added stress to Kira’s already jangled nerves.
She stopped at the end of the brownstone’s private drive. The wooded area across from her lent the neighborhood a peaceful charm—at least in daylight. Tonight, the trees cast shifting shadows in the glow of red-and-blue police lights, making her scrutinize every inch of the darkness.
She headed into the woods. The groan hit her ears before she saw the movement. In front of some overgrown shrubbery, someone sat up from the ground.
“Brian,” she hissed, just in case it wasn’t Bryce.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
She raced over and offered him a hand to help him up off the ground. “What happened?”
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and someone ambushed me.”
She ran her fingers across the back of his head and found a small bump. “It’s not bleeding, so that’s good.”
“He didn’t knock me out, just stunned me. I’m not dizzy and can walk fine.” He took a few unsure steps but landed them successfully.
“There’s an ambulance in front. We can get you checked out.”
He shook his head and tried to hide a wince, but she caught it. “I don’t want to explain how I wound up getting conked in the head with a gun,” he said. “Our cover is unbelievably still intact.”
They headed back to the brownstone, not saying anything. She’d get the details the second the door closed, though.
Once inside, Bryce sank into a chair at the dining room table. Kira called Turner and asked him to send a paramedic over. Turner let her know the paramedic would be dressed in a police uniform and would knock on their door, posing as an officer to ask additional questions about the incident.
Kira handed Bryce an ice pack and a bottle of water. He had to quit getting hit in the head before he suffered brain damage. “What happened?”
“I watched a man jump out the back window and take off. I decided to follow him to get a description or see where he was heading. He definitely didn’t want to talk to the cops.”
Kira slid into the chair next to him. “Did you get a description?”
“He was fit, but lanky. Not big and buff, but solid. And he had a heavy Russian accent. He knew we were the new neighbors. I had a split second to make a decision with a gun to my head, so I went for it and told him we would pay top dollar for Zaika.”
“That’s a great play. It lets them know we are serious about being here and finding the treasure. It puts us in the crosshairs, too, but makes us credible. Since they’re following us, they already know we’ve been searching. I probably would have made the same call.”
A knock at the front door sent Kira sprinting to it. A police officer greeted her and discreetly pulled out his FBI badge. “I’m Mike Metcalf. Someone needs to be checked out?”
