Cyrus
Ridge readjusted the focus on his device. I glanced at the surrounding area. A boat, what looked to be like an old-school fisherman’s vessel, bobbed on the water a hundred yards from us. Being able to see what was happening on the screen but not make out what they were saying drove me insane, and I let my focus wander to the boat. Corbin and I usually spent a few months each year sailing in various locations, but right then, I didn’t think I’d ever go near a boat again.
Ridge fiddled with the controls on his phone and moved the spy device further into the room, landing it on the edge of a partially open window. That gave us a better view and sound, but considering he still had one bud shoved in his ear, I couldn’t hear what was being said.
The waiting game sucked. I’d never been great with patience and being on this side of the building and not next to Imogen, where she needed me, hurt. My leg twitched, wanting to get moving, and I tapped my fingers soundlessly against it.