Chapter Twelve
The odd feeling came while Merrick was about an hour outside Nice, accompanying the thief taker.
“Yes, I’m fairly certain we’re on the right track,” Savian said, examining the ground outside a small café. “There’s definitely signs of him here. I’m willing to bet you that he was originally headed for Nice.”
“We just came from there,” Merrick objected, trying to pinpoint why he was suddenly uneasy.
“Yes, but we were following the trail the wrong way. That or he doubled back over his track, and I don’t see why he’d do that.” Savian looked up and down the highway, just as if the answer were written there. “Then again, maybe he did. Hmm. If I had to guess, I’d say ...”
Merrick waited, struggling with his impatience. He glanced at his phone, but there was no message from Temp
