Page 35 of Risky Obsession

“Yeah, you know, people working together?”

Scowling at me, she ran her hand across the well-worn wooden table. “The note you found in your grandfather’s things had the comment about Emmy guarding the treasure, right?”

I nodded.

“And do you agree that Emmy refers to Emmy Sonnemann, the actress who was also the wife of Hermann Goering?”

“Yes.” I leaned forward, grateful that she was making conversation for a change.

“Did you know Emmy Sonnemann was Hermann Goering’s second wife?”

I frowned. “No. Why is that significant?”

“Goering named the castle Carinhall after his first wife, Carin. But it was his hunting lodge at Rominten he nicknamed Emmyhall.”

Blinking at her, I wondered how I’d missed that.

Her grin got bigger. “You didn’t know that did you?”

I opened my hands. “No, I didn’t. Where is Rominten?”

“Rominten is a settlement in Nesterovsky District of Kaliningrad Oblast, Russia.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket.

“Rominten,” I repeated as I entered the name into Google. “Okay, Rominten, also named Krasnolesye, is situated on the Krasnaya River close to the border with Poland, in the north of the Romincka Forest.”

A group of six rowdy men entered through the front door, bringing a blast of cool air with them as they headed for the bar. Tory’s gaze swept to them, and she seemed to study every one of them before her shoulders relaxed.

“Says here, the village was established after a hunting lodge was built there that dates back to 1572,” I said, reading from my phone.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“That would make the lodge nearly four hundred years old when Goering was there.”

“Don’t you believe me?”

“It’s four hundred years.”

“They built them to last.”

“Okay, so how does this information help?”

She shrugged and I scanned the Google information for a reference to Goering, but nothing stood out.

“How do you know about Emmyhall?” I asked.

“In my dad’s notes.”

I clicked my fingers. “Ah, your father who you refuse to reveal his name.”

The candlelight flickered in her eyes. “That’s him.”

Trying to resist the grin creeping across my face, I returned my gaze to my phone. “According to Google, the entire village of Krasnolesye is now deserted.”

She nodded. “It didn’t survive the war.”

“Do you think it’s worth visiting?” I asked.