He stumbled as he went to open the door, his hand hitting an invisible barrier. He tried again, and again, until he turned to her, looking downright irritated,
"You..." He inhaled irritatedly, pinching the bridge of her nose before taking ahold of her wrist, pulling her into the back room again.
"Do you realize what you've done?" he replied sharply, letting go of her arm and turning to her, one brow raised. "I don't have it. I sold it. Do you think that people steal things just to admire them? So now, you and I are stuck together until I give you the necklace."
"This isn't my fault," she said sharply, pointing at him accusingly and stepping toward him. Her tone was aggressive. "I wouldn't even be in this mess had you just kept your hands to yourself."
"Ooh, Miss Priss loses a necklace. It was old, Princess," he said flatly, raising one eyebrow. "You have thousands more like it. I think you can financially recover from one lost necklace. You should have just kept to yourself."
"It was old," she repeated, clenching her fists. "It was an heirloom, you jackass! It had been in my family for generations!" She took a breath, trying to relax. She was quiet, obviously in the tought. "I am going to get it back. And you're going to help me."
He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Yeah, sure," he said flatly. "I know you think you're this expert sleuth, but you got lucky finding me in here. You're not going to get lucky again. The necklace is gone. Did you miss that part?"
"Oh no," she said, folding her arms. "I heard. That's why I'll be using you. Who did you sell it to?"
He smirked before glancing out the window. "We have to wait an hour. They don't come out until later."
He took off, heading down the street. He seemed to know the area well, taking her down twists and turns of alleyways and street corners. As the world around them got darker and darker, so did the town around them. She heard scurrying in the shadows. Streetlights here were few and far between, the lamps that remained flickering and dull. The smell of fish from the docks grew stronger. Figures in ratty blankets sat against the wall, shaking their cups weakly for coin.
