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Assumptions sucked, but it made sense that the guard would sleep there. If not, at least there was only one of him. It was a complication they couldmanage.
Declan headed for the stairs, sticking to the sides of the treads. Ferguson’s renovation had obviously spared no expense, but Declan had grown up in an old house, and he’d breached his fair share of them since then. The middle of a tread was always more likely to besqueaky.
The stairs led to a second-floor landing and a wide hall. Patterned carpets that looked like they’d been collected from around the world lined the rich woodfloors.
He passed the first four doors — two bedrooms and two bathrooms according to the blueprints — and continued to the double doors at end of the hall. The building plans showed it as three times the size of the other bedrooms. Plus, it contained a massive en suitebathroom.
It had to be the masterbedroom.
Turning the knob slowly, he cracked open the door and eased his way inside a sparsely decorated modern room. Glass doors led to one of the neighborhood’s coveted balconies, small but quaint, like so many things in Beacon Hill. There was a smattering of clean-lined furniture: a dresser, a couple of nightstands, a minimalist chair, thebed.
His gaze snagged on the bed, low to the ground, the wood pale and polished, the mattress…empty.
His heart hammered in his chest as understanding dawned. He ran for thestairs.
