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“Anything from Kenzo?”
He shakes his head. “No. Just?—”
The sharp gasp from Annika has me whirling back to the monitor so fast that the coffee sloshes over the edge of the cup. Takeshi’s already leaning over my shoulder, staring at the screen.
“Oh my God!” Annika blurts. “That’sthem!”
I hit pause, and there they are—Freya and Hana, walking down the street the night they disappeared.
“Where is this from?” I bark, my pulse racing.
Takeshi squints at the screen. “Looks like a storefront security camera for a small shop just off Kiyamachi Street.”
I stare at the footage, my mind racing. Freya is paused mid-step, looking at something. Hana is walking ahead of her but then turns back, joining her as they both stare at…
“What are they doing?” I growl.
Annika’s brow furrows. “They’re looking at some poster. What the hell’s it for?”
“The Lotus Bride.”
The two of us glance back at Takeshi in confusion.
“What?” Annika asks.
“The Lotus Bride,” Takeshi reiterates. “It was a lame reality show, kind of likeThe Bachelorette, but it tanked when someone figured out the main chick was an actress.”
“Huh?”
“Kitamura Kyo,” Takeshi says with a shrug. “The woman in the poster. She was the chick picking the dude, but it turned out she was a professional actress.”
Annika arches an eyebrow. “How the hell do you know all that?”
Takeshi mumbles something about having weird taste in TV. My eyes are glued to the footage. Freya and Hana are pointing at the poster, talking to each other, but there’s no audio.
“We need someone who can read lips,” I say, my voice a low growl. “Now.”
An hour later,Professor Ken Eiji from the Kyoto School for the Deaf, a local expert in lip-reading, sits nervously across from us as he stares at the screen.
It’s pretty clear the quiet, middle-aged man hasn’t ever been in a room with a member of the Yakuza, let alone at the house of theheadof the most powerful Yakuza family in Kyoto. He’s rattled, and he looks like he’s sure someone’s about to chop his hands off or something.
I don’t have time to care about his nerves. I just need the skills in his head. We’ve offered him alotof money to be here, and I need him to work fast. My patience is hanging but a fucking thread, and it’s wearing thin.
“All right,” the professor says, glancing nervously around the room before refocusing on the footage. “One more time, please.”
I replay the clip and he studies the movement of their mouths. His brow furrows in concentration, eyes narrowing as he leans closer to the screen.
After what feels like an eternity, he speaks. “Hana is telling Freya about the reality show in the poster. She’s describing the basic concept.”
I frown. “And Freya?”
The professor nods for me to replay the footage, watching Freya carefully. “She’s saying she knows this woman. The one on the poster.”
My frown deepens. “Freya knows a reality TV star?”
The professor nods. “Yes. Freya says her name is Cain, and she’s...an encryption analyst and network tester now, it seems. They met in New York.”
My blood runs cold.
