and it wasn’t until I was halfway through the book that I saw him.
“That’s him,” I said, pointing to a photo. It was a candid photo taken without the subject’s knowledge, but I recognized the face. Not a big guy, but distinctive. Enough so that I remembered him. “That’s the guy that saved me.”
Ryker spun the book around to take a look. He glanced up at me. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“One hundred percent sure?”
I looked at the photo again, then back at him. “Yes, absolutely. Why? You asked me to pick him out.”
“Because this particular man”—he pointed to the photo—“is a known assassin for the Russians.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Assassin? As in hired to kill people?”
“That’s usually what assassins do.” Ryker’s response was dry.
“But…then that’s proof he’s threatening Parker!” I said. “He probably told Parker he’d kill him if he didn’t cooperate.” I was incredibly relieved. This explained everything.
“He wouldn’t threaten Parker,” Ryker said. “He doesn’t do threats. He either kills people or doesn’t kill them. They send other guys if they just want to threaten.”
“You don’t know that,” I argued.
“Yes, I do. And even if you’re right and he’s threatening Parker, then why the message to you? Tell Parker he owes me one. That makes no sense. If he were threatening him, then he wouldn’t have bothered saving you.”
His logic was sound, but I didn’t want to hear it. I scooped up my purse—I never had gotten my coffee—and stood to leave.
“You’re wrong,” I said, shaking my head. “You just…you have to be. You hate Parker and it’s coloring your judgment of him.”
I had my hand on the doorknob, but Ryker was up and out of his chair, his hand on top of mine as he stood behind me.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice in my ear. “Niki was killed for talking to the cops. They know you work for Parker. What if they think you’re doing the same? I know you trust Parker, believe in him, but this is too dangerous to be blinded by loyalty.”
I didn’t reply, but then again, I was a little distracted by the light press of his body against mine. I could smell the faint musk of his cologne and I closed my eyes, forcing my head to clear.
“You don’t know him like I do,” I said.
“I could say the same thing.”
Stalemate.
I pulled open the door and this time he didn’t stop me from walking out.
My sunglasses remained in place the rest of the afternoon, but I got a lot of work done. I had to keep getting up and moving around so I didn’t get too stiff. My abdomen really hurt and I couldn’t wait to get home and put a heating pad on my stomach.
As if to taunt me, Parker called at ten minutes ’til five.
“Can you bring by the files from New York? They should have arrived today,” he said. “Not all of them, just the financial statements from their main location up to six months ago.”
“Bring them by your apartment?” I asked.
“Yes. I need to work through them tonight.”
I grimaced. Going to Parker’s apartment again, so soon after the disastrous New York trip, seemed like a bad idea. I preferred the routine and professionalism of the office. His apartment was too…personal.
But it was my job and he could’ve easily fired me yesterday, so…
“Sure. I’ll bring them by.”
We talked through a couple of other things before he disconnected. Going into his office, I saw where the overnight service had delivered the files from New York. Digging through them, I found what Parker wanted.
It was rush hour and it took almost an hour to get to Parker’s apartment, which was frustrating, especially since the cab I’d taken smelled like someone had gotten sick in it. I wanted to hang my head out the window like a dog. Instead, I rolled the window down, though my hair took a beating. By the time I got to Parker’s apartment building, it couldn’t be salvaged and I had to unpin it and leave it loose.
My sunglasses made it hard to see clearly since twilight was fading into evening, but the lights of the lobby were bright enough. I didn’t know what I’d say when, or if, Parker asked about the glasses. Part of me didn’t want to tell him about last night. Ryker’s words still echoed in my head, making me doubt what I knew to be true. Or perhaps what I wanted to be true.