Harry nodded again and clapped him on the shoulder. “Take care, Cesar. I’ll see you at the party. If you need my help in the meantime, just let me know.”
Vaughn nodded back, and the two men shook hands a final time. A bit of hope flared in my chest that maybe I could still go through with the job after all, hope that intensified when Harry got into his car, turned it around, and drove off toward the front gate. Vaughn watched his friend leave. Then he sighed, and his shoulders slumped, as though a load of bricks had been set on them. He turned toward the door—the one I was still hiding behind.
I quickly scooted away from the entrance, got to my feet, and ran down the hallway and around the corner. Heart racing, I slid through an open office door just as Vaughn appeared, and I stayed there until he vanished from view.
Vaughn went straight back to his office. He never even bothered to glance around to make sure that he was alone. But my streak of bad luck continued, because he left the door open behind him this time, which meant that he would see me coming before I could get close enough to take him out. I hissed out my frustration. Instead of just getting on with the business of killing him, I once again had to stop in the next hallway over, drop down into a crouch, and look around the corner, peering down the corridor and through the doorway.
Vaughn threw the file on top of his desk. He glared at it a moment before sitting down, pulling his chair up to the desk, opening the folder, and perusing all of the papers and photos inside. Whatever Harry had given him, it didn’t make Vaughn happy. His frown deepened, and the lines on his face became more and more pronounced the longer he read through the information. By the time he closed the file, he looked sick and haggard, as though whatever was inside had thoroughly disgusted him.
Vaughn stared at the closed folder for the better part of a minute. Then he roused himself from his thoughts, grabbed the file, got up from the desk, and went over to the far right side of the office, out of my line of sight. A few seconds later, several soft click-click-clicks sounded, along with the sharp crack of a lever being thrown open and then the loud bang of a door shutting. My eyes narrowed. He must have put the folder in his office safe, the one that was hidden behind a panel in the bottom of a bookcase, according to Fletcher’s info.
Vaughn stepped back into view as he strode over to the far left side of his office. This time, I heard the tink-tink-tink of ice dropping into a glass, followed by bottles rattling together and a steady splash of liquid. Now he was pouring himself a drink, trying to drown the sorrow of whatever he’d learned.
I waited, thinking that Vaughn might take his drink back to his desk, but he stayed where he was, out of my line of sight. Well, if I couldn’t see him, then that meant that he couldn’t see me either.
And I was ready to end this.
I got to my feet and eased down the corridor, hugging the wall. More bottles rattled, making me pause until I realized that Vaughn was fixing himself another drink. He must have decided to take his time with his second round, because I didn’t hear anything else as I crept up to the open door, flattened myself against the wall outside the office, and peered inside, careful to stay as quiet and hidden as possible.
The office was a spacious area, taking up a corner chunk of the building, and it was the only room I’d seen so far that had a bit of luxury to it. More thick Persian rugs covered the floor, the bright reds and golds creating a pretty contrast against the gray stone, while all of the furniture was done in dark cherry wood, from the antique desk in the back of the room to the cushioned chairs that sat in front of it to the other small tables that perched here and there.
But the bookcase was the largest and most impressive thing in the office. It took up the entire right wall from floor to ceiling. But instead of being filled with books, the shelves were lined with small scale models. Tall, skinny skyscrapers with glittering silverstone points, long strip malls complete with toy cars sitting on tiny paved parking lots, a greenhouse with panes of glinting glass, even a miniature mausoleum surrounded by a carpet of fake grass and slender trees. All of the models were exquisite in their perfect detail, and all were crafted out of varying types of stone—granite for the skyscrapers, bricks for the strip mall, marble for the mausoleum.
I recognized a few of the buildings, mostly the downtown skyscrapers, since they had such distinctive shapes. The models must be scale versions of some of the buildings that Vaughn had built, restored, and worked on. His own way of memorializing his achievements. I wondered if he took the time to make the models himself. Probably, given his Stone magic.
My gaze dropped from the models to a square panel on the bottom of the bookcase, the one that hid Vaughn’s safe. I wondered if I should get Vaughn to open the safe before I killed him, so I could grab the file of information and take it to Fletcher. But I decided not to. Vaughn would put up a struggle once he realized that I was going to kill him anyway, and a struggle meant more risk of noise and more chance of discovery. Besides, Charlotte’s problems would vanish with her father dead, and that was all that I really cared about.
Vaughn turned away from the wet bar, a third drink in his hand. I drew back a bit, not wanting him to spot me lurking outside his office, but he didn’t even glance in my direction. Instead, he stared at the spot where the safe was hidden in the bookcase, before sighing, ambling over to the windows behind the desk, and turning his back to the open door—and me.
I wanted to rush forward, but I forced myself to calm my heart and keep my breathing steady. I waited, thinking that Vaughn would soon get tired of the view of cinder blocks and concrete mixers, but he seemed content to sip his drink, stare out the windows, and brood.
I wouldn’t get a better chance than this.
So I drew in a breath, clutched my knife tighter, and slipped into the office, making sure to close the door behind me. It shut with a soft snick. I winced, thinking that Vaughn would whirl around at the small sound, but he rattled the ice cubes in his glass and kept staring out the windows, lost in his own thoughts.
Heart still pounding, I locked the door, wincing again at the faint click that sounded, then headed toward Vaughn. The thick rugs drowned out my footsteps, but I still took care not to rustle my clothes any more than necessary. I made it from the door over to the chairs in front of his desk. I paused, but Vaughn still seemed oblivious to my presence, so I eased around the chairs and lined myself up with him, so that I had a straight shot at his back. Then I tiptoed forward again, still moving slowly, carefully, and quietly.