Page 134 of Risky Obsession

Grinning, she backhanded my arm. “See. You do need me.”

“Don’t push it, bitch.” I fought the grin teasing my lips.

“Aw, come on. That was awesome detective work, don’t you think?”

Grumbling at her, I put my head down to combat the wind and help obscure my face from oncoming pedestrians and stormed away from her.

“Kane. Give me a break.”

Aiming for the car dealer’s address I’d researched with my phone before I’d taken my nap, I increased my speed. The wheels on her case thumped against the pavement as she raced to catch up with me.

“You know this car dealer will ask for ID, right?” Lacey yanked my attention to her by grabbing my wrist.

“No, he won’t.”

“Yeah. He will. You can’t buy a car without registration papers.”

“You can if you pay the right amount of money.”

Her jaw dropped. She seemed lost for words.

It pissed me off that she knew I missed that clue in the photo. I was the real treasure hunter between us. Even so, that clue was definite proof the gold was once here. Hopefully, it still was.

The information Archer had provided convinced me that Ünetzburg Castle was another clue. My insides tingled. Just like it did all those years ago when Pops and I put together clues to find long-lost treasures.

A pang of longing swept through me and was swiftly followed by a doseof confusion. I would never know why Pops hid that photo and map in the back of the painting, or even if it was him who’d hidden the items. He should be here with me, sharing this treasure hunt. Not an infuriatingly fascinating woman who lied for a living.

We turned into a narrow street lined with warehouses that looked like they were built in a hurry without any thought of street appeal. I found the car dealer we were looking for nestled between a rundown mechanic shop and a pawn store with more security bars than a diamond trader.

I stopped outside the front door of the car dealer’s office, waiting for Lacey to catch up. The window was so grubby, it was impossible to see if anyone was on the other side. Archer probably had to bribe the dodgy car salesman with a ton of cash. But Archer knew I was good to pay him back.

It was amazing how similar Archer and I were. We were both treasure hunters living on luxury yachts. We both had rotten childhoods, although his was more fucked up than mine. And trust didn’t come easy for either of us. Our biggest difference was that he’d found Rosalina to spend his life with. Although I told myself I wasn’t jealous . . . I damn well was. I was thirty-five, and I’d always thought I’d have a family by now. Fat chance of that happening any time soon, especially now that Lacey had taught me just how bad I was at judging character.

Lacey’s cheeks were flushed red by the time she reached me.

“Stay here.” I glared at her.

“Okay, but what shall I do if you get carted away in a cop car.” She angled her head, and the sun caught in her pale blue eyes.

“Just stay here. Mind my bag.” I dropped my duffle at her feet and then pushed through the door into a small office that was way too warm and stunk of cigarette smoke.

An overweight man with slicked-back hair that was either a wig, or badly dyed, eyeballed me over the top of his computer monitor. “You Duncan?”

I nodded.

He grabbed a set of keys off a hook and a puffer jacket off another, and waved me to follow him. If he recognized me from the news, he didn’t show it.

As he led me through a side door, he pulled on the jacket. We walked past a row of parked cars to a Ford Taurus with dented and faded,mismatched paint panels, and bald tires. I would hate to know how much Archer paid for this bomb.

Correction, how much I would be paying for it.

As long as it drove, I didn’t care. The grinning car salesman handed me the keys, and the car door creaked as I opened it. I started the ignition, and it sounded like dozens of ball bearings rattling around a rusty drum.

The salesman walked away. It seemed our car purchase was done.

I drove to the front of the shop and Lacey’s eyes bulged when she saw me. Dragging her case, and carrying mine, she trudged over. I opened the rear door, and as I shoved the bags in, she ran around to the passenger seat and jumped in like we were in a race.

Maybe she thought I’d drive off without her. If she didn’t have Pops’ duffle bag, I would have.