Page 26 of Code Name: Reaper (K19 Allied Intelligence Team Two #5)

AMARYLLIS

T here were so many things I needed to do.

While I’d sent Wren the photos we took of Briggs and Bogdanov, I hadn’t prepared the brief I promised her.

I also owed Vera a call. At the very least, a text saying we’d returned to Newport News later than expected.

Since it was after midnight now, I doubted she’d appreciate receiving an alert that wasn’t urgent.

I couldn’t decide if I should consider the note Edmonds’ daughter gave me as a lead I should follow up on or if he was passing on intel we already knew. And finally, Reaper and I needed to arrange a meeting with his parents.

Actually, there was more. My grandparents’ house.

Reaper was right when he’d mentioned keeping it seemed like a big expense for a house that sat empty.

Until tonight, I hadn’t been able to even think about setting foot in it again.

I was aware I needed to, but the emotional toll I knew it would take was more than I could face.

Reaper had made it easier for me solely by being with me.

I wasn’t even sure I would’ve found the photos if he hadn’t been there. At least not now.

As I lay snuggled in his arms, any guilt or regret I might’ve felt for not doing the things I should have was absent. I wouldn’t change what had happened between us for anything, even finding Mercury.

I wondered if when I woke tomorrow—which meant I’d eventually be able to fall asleep again—I’d feel the same way I did now. Mainly about Mercury.

Had I seen something in that photo that I’d said looked a little like her, or was it wishful thinking on my part?

There was still a chance there’d be at least one more picture in the boxes we took from my grandparents’ house with a name written on it.

Those I’d sifted through didn’t, but until I looked at them all, I wouldn’t know.

I remained doubtful that Mercury and Jekyll could be my real parents. Too many things wouldn’t make sense if they were. More than that, it would hurt too much.

Prior to the assault on the villa, it was Delfino he’d communicated with. She was the one he’d wanted to connect with, certainly not me. Like Mercury’s lies, that his own flesh and blood would mean so little to him would devastated me.

The only thing driving my hope that they were was that it would mean I wasn’t as alone in the world. But Jekyll was dead and Mercury was missing, so wasn’t I anyway?

Reaper’s arms tightened around me, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. “Can’t sleep?”

“Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t. I mean, you did, but not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

He moved my hair and trailed kisses down my neck. “You don’t know?”

“Considering the number of things on my mind, I suppose the chances are good you’d be able to guess at least one.”

“Do you want to get up and get some of it done or try to sleep?”

“Definitely sleep.”

He pressed his hardness against my bottom. “I may be able to help with that.”

We made love again, I drifted off, and when I woke, it was daylight.

“What time is it?” I asked, sensing he was awake too.

“Zero eight hundred.”

“Which means it’s thirteen hundred in the UK.”

“As much as I don’t want to move from this spot, ever, we should brief the team,” he said when I turned to rest my head on his chest.

“And have breakfast.”

“Yes, eating is equally important.”

After I went through the list I’d mentally compiled last night, we agreed we couldn’t avoid real life for much longer.

While Reaper made breakfast, I finished my brief and sent it to the team in Shere as well as to Vera, along with apologies for not making contact last night.

She responded almost immediately, suggesting we meet midafternoon, and since, according to Reaper, his parents wouldn’t be up this early, we agreed to dive into the two boxes of photos we finished eating.

“I figured you could use more coffee.” He set the already full mug in front of me.

“Thanks.” I took a sip, then grabbed a handful of the loose Polaroids. As I sifted through them, unnamed faces from decades past stared back at me—strangers whose stories had died with whoever took these pictures. The names written on a few were either unfamiliar or the handwriting wasn’t legible.

Reaper opened the second box and pulled out the ones that were framed. “Are these from your father’s family or your mother’s?”

I picked up the first that he set on the table.

“This is Grandpa Norman and Grandma Dorothy.” They appeared to be in their early twenties, most likely recently married.

Another was of them with a baby I assumed was my dad.

“I remember some of these,” I said as we looked through them.

I pointed to the other box. “But those, I don’t know where they came from or who any of the people are. ”

“Could they be pictures of other members of Norman’s or Dorothy’s families?”

“They could be. I really have no idea.”

The next photo I came to was so faded I had to hold it near the window to make out any of the people in it.

Water damage had eaten the edges, and the emulsion had yellowed with age.

Six people stood in front of a large house with wraparound porches—a woman who could be Anna, a man with his arm around her shoulders, and four children—three girls and a boy.

Reaper looked over my shoulder when I pointed at the tallest girl. “The oldest one looks like she could be my mom.”

“Did you know she had siblings?”

“No.” I set the photo down and rubbed my temples.

Reaper immediately put his arms around me, and I leaned into him, so thankful he was with me.

“Why didn’t they show me any of these when they were still alive?”

I felt him shake his head. “It doesn’t make sense to me either.”

I leaned away and looked up at him. “Thank you for not saying something trite like, ‘I’m sure they had their reasons.’”

He laughed. “Have you ever known me to be trite?”

“Honestly? Never. Thank God.”

He raised a brow. “Hang on a sec. Are you admitting that there’s something about me you actually like?”

I nudged him with my elbow. “You’d be surprised at how many things I do.”

“I feel the same way about you.”

“If two months ago, someone had told me I’d be here, with you, looking at family photos, I would’ve told them they’d lost their mind.”

“Especially since we hadn’t met yet.” He winked.

I picked up the photo again and studied it. There was something about the girl’s posture that tugged at me.

“What about the others?” Reaper asked. “You said she looked the oldest.”

“I’m not great at gauging kids’ ages, but regardless, I have no idea who any of them are.”

“Typical-looking boy. Hair’s a mess, gap in his front teeth. But look at this.” Reaper pointed. Most of the letters were obscured except for the last three. “AMP. Think it says camp?”

“Like Hyde Camp?”

We stared at the photograph. The connections were thin and speculative. But in intelligence work, sometimes all it took was fragments to form a whole picture.

“Do you think the neighbor would know anything about these?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

“We could go now and still be back by the time Vera arrives. And we can take a look around in the daylight.”

The drive through Newport News took me past landmarks I’d ignored for years. The corner store where my grandmother bought me candy. The park where I’d learned to ride a bike. The library where I’d spent summer afternoons.

When we pulled into the driveway, Mr. Hill was out front, raking leaves.

I got out of the SUV and took another look at the house’s exterior. “It looks really good, both inside and out,” I said when I approached him.

“I try to make it look the way Norm would’ve wanted it.”

My throat constricted with emotion. “I don’t think I pay you enough for all the work you do over here.”

He leaned on the rake and smiled. “Keeps me out of trouble. Anyway, I keep it up in case you decide you want to sell the place.”

“Yeah. I guess I should start thinking about it.” I glanced at Reaper, and he winked. “So, we found some photos in the attic last night that I don’t remember seeing previously. Do you know where they came from?”

“In the attic, you say? I don’t go up there too often. Maybe once a year to make sure the cobwebs aren’t too thick. Don’t recall seeing any.”

“We found them in the drawers of a couple of the dressers,” said Reaper.

Mr. Hill shook his head. “Don’t think I ever opened those.”

“Oh, and there was a model of a house. On the bottom, it read, ‘Hyde Camp.’”

“Hyde, you say?” He scratched his chin. “The name isn’t familiar.” He looked up at the sky, then at me. “You know, it might’ve been your mama’s family name.”

Reaper had moved closer to me, so when I felt my legs give out, he caught me around the waist.

“Then again, maybe not. My Violet was the one who always kept track of names. I wasn’t ever very good at it.” He studied me for a long moment. “You have your father’s eyes. Same color, same way of looking at the world like you’re seeing things other people miss.”

The air left my lungs. “Do you remember him?”

“Stephen? Sure, I do. Not that I knew him well. Typical teenager, running here and there all the time. Then, once he started working, I don’t think he was able to make it home all that often.

” Mr. Hill looked off in the distance. “The accident nearly broke your grandparents’ hearts.

But they had you to look after, and I can tell you, you were their pride and joy. ”

“Do you remember what happened?” Reaper asked.

Mr. Hill looked between us. “Not really. Only that it was tragic.”

“You mentioned he wasn’t able to make it home much after he started working. What did he do?” Reaper looked at me first. When I shrugged, he turned to Mr. Hill.

“Well, it’s a long time ago now, but I think your grandpa said once or twice that Stephen worked for the government.”

“Not uncommon for people who live around here,” I commented.

“Something in DC?” Reaper pressed.

“Langley is what I heard.”