Page 37 of Risky Obsession

I pulled the map from the envelope and spread the A3-sized copy of the original map out on the table. The map was hand-drawn and had creases from where it had been folded and unfolded in the last eighty years.

“A map!” Her eyes lit up. “Where did you get this?”

She spread her uninjured hand across the drawing and leaned in to study the section closest to her.

“You know the note I found?”

“Yes. Where did you find it, by the way?”

“It was concealed in the back of a painting Pops had stashed in the back of the closet.”

“Huh. If it was concealed, how did you find it?”

I shrugged. “Well, the painting was really ugly.”

A frown drilled across her forehead. “Ugly?”

“Yeah, a really ugly landscape with badly painted cows.”

“Okay, and . . .?” She narrowed her eyes as she traced the rough grooves of the wooden table with a finger.

“Well, it was weird that Pops kept it hidden and hadn’t put it into his antique shop. I found it when I was clearing out his things and it struck me as odd. A section of the brown tape that’s usually used at the back of the painting wasn’t the same brown as the rest. It looked newer. And when I ran my hand over the canvas, I felt a slightly raised portion.” I shrugged. “That’s when I found it.”

“That’s cool. Do you think your pops knew it was there?”

“No idea. I’ve been asking myself that question for nearly ten years.”

She tilted her head, and the candle shimmered in her eyes. “You were close to him, huh?”

“Yes. Very close.”

“But why would he have hidden this map from you?” The question seemed to hang between us.

“I wish I knew. There was also this.” I removed a faded black and white photo from inside my jacket, placed it on the map, and turned it to face her.

“Oh, wow.” Using her splint, she nudged the photo closer. The flickering candle cast a dancing glow on her face, making her look both mysterious and sexy as all hell.

The photo showed bars of gold stacked up inside a train carriage. In the distance, steam puffed from the engine. In the black and white image was a man dressed in a Nazi uniform, but he was side-on to the camera and the image was too grainy to work out who he was.

I pointed at the gold bars in the image. “If you use a magnifying glass, you will see the lion emblem on those gold bars.”

She nodded slowly. “Goering’s gold.”

“Yes. You asked me why I took you to Carinhall today. This is why.” I pointed at a hand-drawn castle on the map. In beautiful script, the word Carinhall was printed beneath the castle.

As the clink of glasses and muffled laughter filled the air around us, I felt an undercurrent of unease. The men on the next table went quiet, and when I looked over, two men were staring at me.

Shit. Did they hear our conversation?

I took a swig of my beer, trying to maintain the appearance of nonchalance. Inside, my thoughts raced at a hundred miles per hour.

I reached for the photo. “Come on, let’s get out of here. You must be tired.”

Tory studied me as I folded up the map, but I was grateful when she didn’t object.

As we passed by the men, I felt them staring at my back.

So stupid.