The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,55

them, but we had known there was a good chance we would. Catherine wanted to leave, and I wanted to lie.

What a pair we made.

I held my chin high, narrowing my eyes. The ends of my hair tickled my neck.

Deep inside me, I summoned everything I knew about my sister. Her ambitions, her fears and dreams. How she liked her coffee, how she handled being disappointed.

I promise not to leave you.

I pressed my hand to the door and stepped into the headquarters.

Inside was warm, but empty. A huge open space with modern windows and more security measures than necessary. The only other person was a bodyguard, slouched in his chair, watching all who entered and exited.

Be Catherine, I told myself. Be your big sister.

I pulled out the ID card that we had printed, an exact replica of what Catherine’s would look like.

I quickened my pace, holding out the card, “Forgot something!”

The bodyguard looked up.

Am I going to make it? I made it past the bodyguard, so close to the stairs—

“Padovino!” he yelled.

I stopped. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. I turned and resisted the urge to smile. Catherine wouldn’t smile, I told myself. “Yeah?”

“You going to Julie’s thing on Friday?”

I swung on my heels, digging my hands into my pockets. What would Catherine say? “Julie’s thing? Probably not.”

“Yeah, me too.” The bodyguard slouched back in his chair. “What did you forget?”

What did I forget? “My phone. Uh, have a good night!”

I took off before he could say anything else.

The FBI building was actually very stylish. In my mind, I had formed a picture of a few desks in a warehouse and sign that read NARCS WORK HERE, but the reality was very nice. Modern, clean, expensive. It was clear where the taxpayers’ dollars were going.

Not many lights were on. I passed a few lit desks, but the people working at them didn’t spare me a glance.

Nero, apparently, had once killed somebody in this building, so he had already had a map of the place. Strangely patient with me, he had explained where the organized crime taskforce would be located. Third floor, near the back, he had said. If you get lost, find the closest bathroom. They will have a fire exits map, and use that to find out where you are.

To get to the third floor, I would have to get on the elevator.

This was the part I was most nervous for. If someone was in there with me, the bright light might betray I was not in fact Catherine Padovino. I had used my cut hair and scarf to try and deceive as much as possible, but we weren’t twins.

No one around as I stepped onto the elevator.

Okay, I told myself. Third floor, third floor.

“Hold it!” A young man came skidding into the elevator, goofy in his looks. “Sorry, sorry.”

I pressed myself against the wall. What were the chances he would recognize me?

The gun pressing into my back began to feel warmer.

“Third floor?” he asked, looking at the lit button I had pressed. “Are you part of Dupont’s division then?”

I pressed a hand to my back, feeling the outline of the weapon. It would be more suspicious not to say anything. “Uh, yeah.”

He turned to me, face bright. “That’s so cool. I would do anything to work with Dupont. Did you know he once shot a gangster at point blank range?”

“Oh?” Did he now?

“What’s he like?” the young man asked. “I bet he’s super cool, drinks his coffee black and stuff like that. Cool stuff, you know.”

I couldn’t help my smile. “I’m not very cool then. I like cream and sugar in my coffee.”

“Me too,” he laughed. The elevator dinged. “Could you do me a favor? Name drop me to Dupont. Leo Morales in IT.”

“Sure. I’ll let him know.” I stepped off the elevator, followed by Leo’s thanks.

Cover still not blown, I headed toward the back of the third floor. This floor wasn’t made up of hallways so much, more offices with glass walls and stretches of desks. I spotted a few people, but all of them were distracted by their tasks and paid me no mind.

I was worried I might not recognize the organized crime area, but it was pretty hard to miss. If you just looked at the collection of desks, paired with a whiteboard and complex computer system, you would think it was normal.

But then you noticed the walls—even some of the roof! There were thousands of photos taped to the wall, from maps to images to documents.