Page 55 of A Touch of Treachery (Section 47 #3)

“So people often wear a piece of jewelry over and over because they have a deep sentimental attachment to it.” I paused. “Usually because someone special gave it to them.”

Once again, Joan’s face remained calm, but her fingers curled a little more tightly around the brooch as if it was a scarlet N marking her as Nemesis and she wanted to hide it from sight.

“There were other clues. Your relationship with Graham Walker. Your insistence that you should be Desmond’s liaison instead of me. And especially your burning desire to hurt Henrika Hyde however you could.”

Joan dropped her hand from the brooch. “So what? Everyone in Section knows that.”

“Yes, they do. It’s all common knowledge. But then I saw the photo on your desk of your Greek vacation.” I paused. “The photo Graham took of you, right?”

“So I took a vacation.” Joan scoffed again, sidestepping my question about Graham. “So what?”

I stabbed my finger at the brooch on her jacket. “So I’m guessing Graham bought you that brooch as a memento of your trip. Diamonds are a popular gift among lovers, and wearing that brooch, well, it’s like having a piece of Graham right next to your heart. Isn’t it?”

Joan remained silent, and once again, she didn’t move, fidget, blink, or twitch. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she didn’t care about Graham Walker at all.

“Speaking of jewelry . . .” I tapped my finger on the Grunglass Necklace, which was still ringing my throat.

“You know this is the real necklace. You can tell how old something is and the quality of materials used just by touching it. You said that when we were at my Section desk looking at the crystal mockingbird figurine, remember? You got the real Grunglass Necklace out of the armory for me to bring to the resort. Then, earlier today, you lied and told Percy’s bodyguards it was a fake.

Why would you take so many risks with Section property?

Especially a necklace worth millions of dollars? ”

Joan maintained her still silence. I admired her eerie calm, but it also annoyed me. Desmond didn’t have time for us to sit around and play spy games.

I gestured at Gabriel. “A few days ago, Gabriel told me how a mysterious woman calling herself Nemesis had sent him an invitation to Elsa Eisen’s holiday party.

Desmond and I going to Germany wasn’t common knowledge, but you’re smart, Joan, and you could have accessed enough information in the Section servers to figure it out. ”

She shrugged, neither confirming nor denying my accusation.

I gestured at the laptop on the table. “Code names mean things to people too, just like jewelry does, and I’ve been researching the word Nemesis .

Of course, the literal meaning is a long-standing enemy or archrival.

But there’s also another meaning that ties in with that one and connects everything back to you.

The Greek vacation photo, the sword brooch, Gabriel’s invitation to the holiday party. ”

Joan scoffed. “And what would that be?”

“Nemesis is the Greek goddess of revenge.”

A tense, heavy silence dropped over the table. Joan looked at me, then at Gabriel, then back at me. The corner of her mouth quirked up, cracking her calm, detached facade, and a bit of grudging respect filled her eyes.

“I didn’t think you would figure it out so quickly,” she muttered. “I thought I had been more careful.”

“You were careful, but this is what I do for a living, what Section trained me to do, and I am very, very good at it.”

Joan clapped her hands together a few times in mocking applause. “Well, brava to the great Charlotte Locke.”

“How did you disguise your voice?” Gabriel asked. “I talked to you on the phone after the Tannenbaum mission. You don’t sound like Nemesis.”

Joan gave him a disgusted look. “I’m a transmuter. I can turn water into ice and crack concrete with my bare hands. You really think I can’t disguise my own voice ?”

Her voice dropped on the last few words, turning into a low, husky purr that seemed to belong to an entirely different person. If I hadn’t heard Joan say the words, I never would have guessed that was her talking.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Cute party trick.”

“It was good enough to fool you.” Joan smirked at him. “Then again, we both know you aren’t the brains of this operation.”

“Never said I was,” Gabriel drawled. “I’m just the muscle.”

“And what does that make me?” Joan asked.

“A friend,” I replied in a soft voice. “Desmond’s friend, I hope.”

Her gaze swung back around to me, then skimmed over the documents, maps, and photos spread across the table. “You found him, didn’t you? You found Desmond and Henrika’s secret lab.”

“Isn’t that what you were counting on?”

Once again, Joan shrugged off my accusation. “Like you said in the honeymoon suite, you know Henrika Hyde better than anyone.”

“And you decided to use me to get your revenge by proxy.”

She shook her head. “Not revenge. Not today. Right now, all I care about is saving Desmond.”

Finally, something we agreed on.

Joan picked up her phone. “Tell me where Desmond is. I’ll text Gia, and she can start assembling the strike teams.”

“No,” I said in a sharp voice. “We’re not telling Gia anything.”

Joan frowned. “Why not? Desmond has already been gone for hours. Henrika won’t keep him alive any longer than necessary.”

“If you tell Gia, General Percy will seize control of the mission. Henrika will cut her losses and kill Desmond as soon as she gets wind of any strike teams closing in on her.”

Joan threw a hand up in the air. “Then what are we supposed to do?”

Gabriel pointed at himself, then me, and finally Joan. “Cleaner, analyst, liaison. We’ve got the Section trifecta right here. And of course, I can also double as a charmer if need be.”

He flashed her a smile. Joan rolled her eyes, then looked at me again.

“Let me get this straight,” she said. “You want me to help you infiltrate Henrika’s secret lab, find and rescue Desmond, and then somehow escape, all without being captured or killed? Oh, and without any Section intel, support, or backup?”

Gabriel’s smile widened. “When you say it like that, you make it sound even more fun.”

Joan rolled her eyes again.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.” I paused, and it took me a few seconds to swallow the hard knot of worry in my throat. “It’s the only chance Desmond has. We’re the only chance Desmond has.”

Joan looked at me, her face smooth, her eyes frosty. Once again, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking or feeling, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from begging her to help us. Gabriel was right. This was a three-person job, and I didn’t know what I would do if Joan turned us down.

No, that wasn’t true. I knew exactly what I would do: try to rescue Desmond anyway and probably get myself and Gabriel killed in the process.

Joan stood up. My heart sank. She was going to leave.

She sighed, shrugged out of her trench coat, and sat back down. “All right,” she muttered. “Tell me your crazy plan.”