“Let’s go check out the shop!”
His head jerked around. “What?”
“The shop! Look.” She pointed down the street. “I can see those same scooters, a whole bunch of them, down there in front of that shop. Let’s just go hang out for a while. If we watch, maybe we’ll recognize someone. Maybe she uses the same couriers and stuff. It sounds like something she’d do.”
He felt a nervous twinge in the bottom of his stomach. “Dez, I don’t really think—”
“Come on.” She tugged his arm. “We’re just going to go watch it for a while. Didn’t you say you were bored?”
He was, but watching a messenger service that was used by Livia, all while Dez was with him, wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. She was already walking toward the shop.
“Dez!”
She didn’t turn around, and Ben had to hustle to catch up with the petite blonde, all the while cutting his eyes at the men who watched her as she passed. He strode quickly to catch up with her, but refused to run. Dez was already attracting too much attention. Finally, his long legs reached her and he pulled her arm, tucking her a little behind him while he slipped his hand in his pocket and hooked a finger in his waistband, flicking the handle of the knife he carried. He saw a scrawny thief’s eyes dart to his, then down to his hand before he turned away, looking for an easier mark.
“Let’s just walk a little slower, okay? Try not to shout, ‘I’m a rich tourist’ at the top of your lungs.”
She just looked confused. “I wasn’t saying anything.”
“Yes, you were.”
He took her arm and they walked closer to the shop. A group of men sat in chairs outside as young couriers darted in and out of the storefront. Judging from their posture, Ben thought they wore weapons. He sighed and looked farther up the street, spotting a small café that looked like it catered to backpackers. It had an outdoor seating area and a few tourists were sitting around, drinking coffee.
“Dez, if you’re determined to watch the place, let’s go up here.”
“Where?”
“That café.”
She squinted. “We won’t be able to see much from—”
“We’ll see enough.”
The tension in his stomach was growing as they walked opposite the shop. Ben tried to distract her, but he could tell the men in front of the shop had noticed Dez’s eyes on them. Still, he didn’t want to draw more attention to either of them by telling her to not be so obviously curious. They took a seat at one of the small tables and Ben asked Dez to go grab two drinks.
“Big ones. American coffees so we’ll be here a while.”
“Okay!” She was so damn cheerful it almost killed him. He sat down in the chair that had the best angle to observe the shop. It seemed to do a brisk business, and he could hear the phone ringing from inside all the way up the narrow street. The men in front glanced over at them a few times before they returned to their coffees and papers. A few of them talked on cell phones and their eyes darted around the street. Dez finally came out carrying a plain, black coffee for him and some sweet concoction for herself. He wondered if she’d had to instruct the barista how to make the drink. No doubt she had, by the friendly wave she gave someone through the window.
“They have decaf here!”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Cool.”
“I know, right?”
“Good for the baby and less likely to get you completely wound up.” Dez on a caffeine high was truly something to behold.
“Now, what can we—” She began to turn around to look at the shop, and Ben grabbed her arm.
“Don’t.”
“But I can’t see.”
“Well, I can, so you’ll just have to put up with my eyes.”
“But I’m the one that’s seen the messengers! And if there’s one I recognize, we could follow him or something.”
“That sounds like a spectacularly bad idea that Matt would kill me for letting you do.”
She grimaced. “He’s not the boss of me, Ben. Come on. It’s daylight! It’s not like any of the really bad guys are even up.”
“I’m not worried about the really bad guys. Just the normal, everyday ones are enough to handle, thanks.”
He sipped his coffee and watched the shop. Ben had skirted the edge of violence for most of his childhood. When he was younger, he’d picked the pocket of the wrong type of mark more than once. He was good at running away; he was better at avoiding a fight in the first place. As he’d gotten older, he’d learned how to spot the bullies he could handle and the ones he wanted to avoid. Dez, apparently, had not. He cursed under his breath as she tried to sneak a surreptitious glance at the shop. Her eyes followed every scooter that went up the street.
“Okay, that’s it.” He stood and finished his coffee in one gulp. He grabbed the bag of books and held his hand out for Dez. “We’re going.”
“What?” She looked over her shoulder again, drawing the attention of the men in front of the shop. “But we—”
He pulled her up and tugged her close. “You’re attracting too much attention,” he muttered. “We need to go.”
“Oh.” She looked embarrassed, and Ben felt bad for the harsh whisper. “Sorry, I… sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He scanned the street. Damn. He wasn’t as familiar with this neighborhood, but the street they were on looked fairly busy. He didn’t want to walk back past the shop and draw more attention, so he took Dez’s hand and walked farther up, hoping to catch a cross street that would lead them back to something more familiar.