Under the Rose - Kathryn Nolan Page 0,2

They’re worried he’ll continue to elude them for years.”

Abe tapped his pen on the desk. “Yes, well, we’ll see about that.”

“Is Codex searching for Bernard Allerton?” I asked.

“Let’s just say Bernard wouldn’t want to meet any of us in a dark alley,” Delilah said.

I was enjoying this unexpected curiosity beckoning me like the crook of a finger. The two weeks since my incident had been unbearably lonely—and solidified my suspicion that I was truly a workaholic with no hobbies except going to the gym. The thrill of the hunt—the comfort of working with a real team—felt strange and new.

“Our biggest priority right now is the 60th Annual Antiquarian Book Festival,” Abe said. “It’s being hosted at The Grand Dame Hotel here in the city.”

“We believe it’s a hotbed of criminal activity,” Henry said.

“Any time you have book buyers in a room with booksellers, someone’s breaking the law,” I agreed.

“Our thoughts exactly,” Delilah said. “We have a few open cases from local clients with cold trails and no leads. Our plan is to hit the festival, working undercover as potential buyers, see if we can shake down a few sources.”

“I’d like to see you in the field, Sam,” Abe said. “Back in your Quantico days, I remember you as being the most talented undercover agent in your class.”

“That’s kind of you, sir,” I said, swallowing the hard truth. I was talented—but the real undercover genius had been my irritating, frustrating, genius rival. The woman I’d been competing against—and arguing with—since I was eighteen goddamn years old.

But that woman didn’t matter, no matter how persistently she appeared in my thoughts even seven years later. What did matter was Abe giving me the chance to prove myself, post-incident.

The office door flew open, and a hurricane of limbs and laughter crashed into the room.

“Sorry I’m late again, but Federal Donuts was a madhouse, and I pulled an all-nighter trying to crack a mystery I think you guys are going to freak about. Abe, don’t look at me like I broke your ridiculous code of conduct and honor by being all of ten minutes late.”

The blur of chatty limbs spun around as if sensing my presence. In her arms was a box of donuts. And stuck in her messy blonde bun was a trio of pens—that habit had annoyed me to no end back in our Quantico days.

The donuts hit the ground.

“Byrne?” Behind her big glasses, Freya’s green eyes were wide with shock.

“Evandale,” I said calmly.

Her cheeks flushed pink with anger. My fingers clenched the arm of my chair.

“Oh, and I forgot to mention,” Abe said. “The third member of our Codex team, Freya Evandale. You two were in the same class at the training academy, remember?”

“Oh, we remember,” Freya said, chin raised in our old ready-for-battle position.

I felt my nostrils flare, heart rate already hammering at her nearness. Apparently, the land of private detectives contained my irritating, frustrating, genius rival.

And she was even more beautiful now than the last time I’d seen her.

2

Freya

Samuel Byrne was a mirage caused by sleep deprivation.

He had to be.

Because there was no way my archnemesis was in Abe’s office. At Codex.

Sitting in my favorite chair.

We continued scowling at each other with a box of piping hot donuts between our feet.

My nemesis still had the audacity to look like Captain America—brave, broad-shouldered, handsome. Except I’d known this man for a long, long time. And beneath that superhero facade was a tightly-wound company man in serious need of a vacation.

“I was just telling the rest of the team about Sam’s new position here at Codex,” Abe said. “He’ll be consulting on cases for a few weeks. In the field, when he can be.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of Sam’s mouth. My cheeks flushed hotter.

No. Not a mirage.

This was a fucking nightmare.

Henry picked up the box and flipped the top open, releasing the tantalizing scent of fresh-baked cinnamon and sugar. “You two went to school together?” he said, ignoring our attempts to murder each other with our eyes.

Delilah took hold of my wrist, tugging me next to her on the couch and placing a donut in my hand. My gaze was still leashed to Sam’s—a nonverbal duel I was unwilling to lose.

“We, uh…” Sam started. “Freya and I went to Princeton together.”

He broke our stare down first. Point for Freya.

“I didn’t know that,” Abe said, forehead pinched.

“Not that many people do,” I said. “Sam and I had the misfortune of running our campus’s Criminology Club together. When we weren’t stuck in

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