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If I could come out of this mess with just one useful piece of information, that would make the humiliation I was going to face when the Vigil guys got here worth it.
I crept closer, past a couple of rows of empty liquor bottles that’d been left against the wall behind the bar. I had to move a little beyond the shelter of the counter, but while I was crouched this low, the tables still hid me from everyone else in the room. I craned my neck to peer into the office.
There was a filing cabinet directly across from me with a signed baseball and a football helmet poised on it. I guessed the manager was a sports fan. Over to the side, I could make out the edge of a desk, a few papers scattered across its surface and a glass ringed with amber liquid holding a couple of them down. I leaned forward a little farther to take in more of the desk and lost my breath all over again.
It was there. A familiar black lacquer box, the glint of the silver Celtic knot just barely visible on the top, sitting off to the side of the desk at a haphazard angle as if someone had casually tossed it there.
Not only were these people connected to the theft of my car, but the manager himself must have wanted Dad’s box for some reason.
Exhilaration rushed through me. I’d found it. Maybe I couldn’t poke around the whole office, but could I get away with nudging the door a little farther open and slipping inside just long enough to grab it? I could have Dad’s prized possession back in my grasp and prove to the Vigil guys that my expedition here hadn’t been totally useless.
I edged slightly closer, running my fingers lightly along the door, testing how easy it’d be to push it. I didn’t get much sense of resistance. I hadn’t heard the hinges squeak when it’d opened before. The group at the table were still facing away from here. If I moved it slowly enough, smidge by smidge…
I was just about to make that first push when a chair squeaked and a figure loomed in the gap between the door and the frame. It was a man, walking past the doorway to reach for the filing cabinet. The office wasn’t empty after all.
The jolt of startled panic sent me jerking a step backward—and my heel collided with one of the lined-up bottles. It clicked against the others and toppled over with athunkthat seemed to echo through the room. My heart outright stopped.
“What the fuck was that?” one of the men at the table demanded, with a squeak of his chair’s legs as he got to his feet. I froze in place, knowing it was only a matter of seconds before he and his friends with their guns descended on me.
What the hell did I do now?
