Page 59 of Risky Obsession

I pressed my face against the frosted glass window, trying to see inside, but couldn’t.

“Gunter!” I banged on the door, and the sound echoed around us.

“What the hell is he up to?” Tory took out her phone andphotographed the note, or maybe the sign next to the note with the shop name and phone number.

“We could check around the back. See if we can break in?” I suggested, testing Tory’s level of risk.

Frowning, she scanned her gaze over the door and windows.

Huh. She really is considering my suggestion.

“We better not draw attention to ourselves,” she said.

“Okay. Let’s find some magnifying glasses and get out of here.”

She nodded. “Good idea.”

I didn’t miss the disappointment in her tone.

As we walked away, I tried to piece together what Gunter was up to.

What did he see on my map?

And why the hell do I still feel like I’m being watched?

We moved from shop to shop, searching for magnifying glasses, and each time we stepped back outside, the air seemed cooler. The wind howled through the narrow alleyways, tugging at the large frame beneath my elbow like it was trying to claw the map from my grasp.

After exhausting all the shops in Gunter’s area, we moved back to the main courtyard and started searching those shops. Despite constantly being on the move, I still couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching us.

We ducked into another antique shop, and I followed Tory to a row of glass cabinets lining one wall.

Tory picked up an intricate brass compass and turned it over. “This is beautiful.”

“Yeah.” I glanced at the antique, then peered at the front door.

“You think someone is watching us, don’t you?”

I frowned at her. “Nah.”

“I do,” she said.

“Oh, why’s that?”

She shrugged. “Just do. Ever since we left Gunter’s shop. Maybe it’s him.”

“Well, if it is, he’s a sneaky bastard ’cause I haven’t seen him.”

She giggled. “So you have been watching our backs.”

“Always.”

“Good to know.” She slapped her hand onto my chest. “Let’s keep looking.”

As she shuffled farther along the cabinet, a sense of dread gripped me. It couldn’t be a coincidence that both of us felt like we were being watched.

“No good,” she said and marched for the front door.

We stepped back onto the street, and acting like a pair of guilty thieves, we scanned the people around us.