Page 73 of Code Name: Reaper
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.
