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“Away on business, I’m afraid, but he said he forwarded notes of what he wanted to Mrs. Stern?”
I pat my iPad on the back. “Yep, got it all here. I was just hoping to meet our client in person.” I’m lying, of course, but a real interior decorator would probably say that.
Cassandra gestures inside the castle. “Please follow me.”
Gabriel is about to step forward and join me, but one of the door guards raises a hand and shakes his head. “Only Ms. Monroe has been cleared for entry,” he says. “Your driver must wait with the car.”
I fight the urge to shoot him a concerned glance. I’m about to walk into enemy territory. The last thing I want right now is to be separated from the only member of my team. If something goes wrong, I’ll be without backup. Gabriel will be in a similarly tight situation if I’m trapped inside and he needs help. It looks like we don’t have a choice.
I’m scouting alone.
I play it off like another inconvenience, keeping in character. Rolling my eyes, I scoff, “Whatever. John, keep the car running. I want it nice and warm by the time I get back.”
Gabriel’s lips are pressed into a tight line. I can practically feel his concern radiating off him. He makes no mention of it, simply nodding before returning to the parked car.
Cassandra gives me a tour of the castle. It’s not as dingy and creepy as it looks on the outside. The inside has been completely refurbished with bright cream wallpaper, LED overhead lights, and polished black marble floors. It’s almost comically ornate with all the priceless pieces of artwork in gilded frames, the massive fireplace in the main foyer, and all the taxidermied animals out on display.
There’s a freaking stuffed tiger mounted to the wall!
I see the window through which we could see the vase, but it’s not there, confirming my assumption that it’s now in the vault.He must rotate the pieces.
I use Amelia Stern’s iPad to take plenty of pictures. “For reference,” I explain to Cassandra, not that she asked in the first place. They’re not for me, but for Gabriel. My photographic memory already has everything on lock.
She simply shrugs. “Whatever you need.”
“Where will the catering station be?”
“Downstairs in the servant’s kitchen. Herr Van Straus doesn’t want his guests mingling with the help.”
My ears burn. The vault is located downstairs on the bottom floor. “Can you take me? I’d very much like to see it.”
Cassandra shakes her head. “There’s no need, Ms. Monroe. The only floors Herr Van Straus needs decorated are the main floor and the sunroom. Everywhere else will be off-limits to guests.”
I work my jaw. If Cassandra won’t willingly take me there, I’m going to have to find a way to sneak off myself.
“Now,” she says, clapping her hands as she takes me further still into the castle. “I know in Mrs. Stern’s email she recommended not getting a live tree, but Herr Van Straus is rather insistent. I know it’s a fire hazard to have it so close to the fireplace, but it’s the one thing he won’t budge on.”
I smile. “Of course. Whatever he’d like. Um…”
“What is it?”
“I’m dreadfully sorry, but is there any chance I can use the little girl’s room? It was a long flight, you see, and I absolutely hate using the toilets on planes. They’re disgusting, doubtfully cleaned at all.”
Cassandra gives me a snooty look down her pointed nose. “Alright, I suppose. It’s just down the hall there. Please make it quick. I have other tasks to get to.”
“Thank you,” I say as I hurry off.
Once I’m out of sight, I book it.
Much to my relief there aren’t as many security cameras inside as I would have thought.Thank God. It seems Van Straus has relegated all his security to the exterior of the building and its perimeter. There aren’t any guards inside, either, though I’m sure that will change come the night of the gala.
Since I’ve got the blueprints memorized and neatly tucked away inside my head, I easily navigate the winding halls until I find a spiral staircase that descends several floors. I hurry down to the bottom, keeping an ear out for any servants who might question my being there.
I count four floors and a hundred twenty steps until I reach the basement.
Thisis what I’ve been looking for.
It’s fucking freezing down here, but I expect nothing less since the bottom floor has been dug deep into the frigid earth. The area is well-lit, but the air is stale and lifeless. There are no windows, no doors leading outside. The staircase is the only way in and out of this place. I don’t normally get claustrophobic, but the thick concrete walls and the knowledge that there’s a huge ass castle above my head is agitating. Getting down here during the masquerade is one thing, getting out is another.
