Sands of Time (Out of Time #6) by Monique Martin

for the tourists,” she said. “The good stuff’s probably in back. If you know just how to ask for it.”
    “Black market?”
    Diana grinned.
    The shop owner came outside to greet them and promptly got into an argument with Diana. He was quite insulted, apparently, took the piece from Diana’s hand and waved them away from his shop before laying siege to a new, unsuspecting group of tourists.
    “And what is your business in Cairo, Mr. Wells?” Diana asked as they fell back into step behind Christina again.
    “Jack, please,” he said.
    Diana smiled. “You know, you remind me a little of George. Cagey.”
    “Mason?”
    Diana nodded. “Don’t tell me you’re obsessed with Arthur’s papyrus, too?”
    Before he could ask her what she meant, he felt the familiar prickle of what Elizabeth had called his Spidey-sense. They were being followed. “Just a tourist,” he added distractedly.
    He walked another twenty feet before easing over to a booth selling tarbooshes. He slipped one onto his head and turned to show Diana, but his eyes were busy scanning the crowd. There, leaning against a wall, making a show of inspecting a small pot. Small, jet-black hair, pencil mustache and dark gray fedora. He’d seen that man twice before, once near the gates and again near a rug shop. Considering the twists and turns they’d taken so far, twice would be a helluva coincidence, but three times was trouble.
    Jack put the tarboosh back into the pile and thanked the store owner, ignoring his pleas.
    He put his hand on the small of Diana’s back and urged her to close the gap between them and Christina. He quickly scanned the area ahead and formulated a plan. When they caught up with Christina, Jack grabbed her arm and said, “This way.”
    “But, he—,” Christina protested. “The shop I’m looking for isn’t—”
    Jack ignored her and tugged her back a few steps and into a nearby shop.
    Diana followed. “What’s going on?”
    “This way,” Jack said. He’d noticed that the shop was on a corner and had two doors. He led them quickly through it and out into the other alley and then into another shop just as quickly.
    He brought them to what he hoped was a safe spot and peered through the doorway. Sure enough, the little man appeared in the alley.
    “Wait here,” Jack said firmly. “Don’t leave.”
    Christina looked up nervously at Diana, who put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
    Jack edged his way back to the doorway. He could have just given him the slip and taken the girls somewhere safe, but he doubted he’d get a more secure chance to find out just what the hell was going on.
    He waited until the man had turned his back and then stepped out of the doorway, grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him face-first up against a wall.
    “What are you doing?” the man cried out with a thick Italian accent.
    Jack spun him around and grabbed him by the lapels. He pressed him back up against the stone wall. “Why are you following us?”
    The man shook his head. “I am not,” he said, trying to wriggle out of Jack’s grasp. “You are mistaken.”
    He held out his hands in surrender and looked plaintively to the few passersby who gave them any notice.
    “Who are you?”
    “Nico,” Diana said in mild disgust from over Jack’s shoulder.
    The man smiled weakly. “Miss Trent.” He nodded his head at Jack. “Would you please…”
    “You can let him go,” Diana said. “He’s mostly harmless.”
    Jack hesitated, but eased back and finally let go of the little man who tried to smooth out his crumpled lapels.
    “You know this guy?” Jack asked.
    Diana ignored Jack and stepped closer to the little man. “Nico,” she said in a voice rich with disappointment as though she were scolding a small child.
    He smiled nervously and shrugged. “You cannot blame a man for trying.”
    Diana shook her head. “This isn’t Palermo.”
    He straightened his hat and shrugged.
    “And besides,” she continued,