Wicked Charms (Lizzy and Diesel 3)

“No.”

“Won’t hurt to check anyway,” Diesel said.

We moved to the side of the building where a paved driveway led to a rear metal fire door.

“Can you open it?” I asked Diesel.

“Yeah, and I’m guessing they’re not bothering to set the alarm. The building isn’t in use, and there’s a construction dumpster here. The guys out front are just window dressing. If Ammon is using the safe he probably feels it’s secure enough.”

He slid his hand over the door, and I heard the lock click. He pushed the door open, and I held my breath and waited. All was silent. No alarm. I stepped in and looked at the control panel beside the door. No blinking lights. The alarm had been deactivated.

The back door opened into an empty storage room. No windows. Dark interior. Another door stood open at the far end, and there was some dim light beyond it. We crossed the room and looked out into what used to be the bank lobby. Light was coming from a skylight and from two small windows in the front of the building. The lobby had been gutted. The floor tiles were chipped and covered with dust. There was an elaborately scrolled wrought iron gate on the back wall. We went to the gate and looked inside at a small foyer leading to a massive vault door with a lock that looked like it was straight off a movie lot.

“Well?” I said to Diesel.

Diesel opened the gate and walked up to the vault. He put his hand on the lock, fingers first, then the flat of his hand.

“I’m guessing this is the original lock installed when the building was completed,” Diesel said. “That’s good because I can’t do a lot with a computer chip beyond scramble it.”

He moved his hand a little and listened. He did this three times, spun the dial, and the door creaked open.

Diesel grinned. “Am I good, or what?”

It was a large walk-in vault. Plastic tubs with snap-on lids were stacked against the wall. The tubs were clear and I could see that they were filled with gold and silver coins. Some tubs were bigger than others, and the big ones looked like they held an assortment of jewels, hammered gold goblets, and fancy perfume and spice bottles. The treasure from the Gunsway. Very impressive, but not what caught my attention. Hatchet had my attention. He was sitting on a folding chair in the middle of the room. He was dressed up like an insurance salesman in a cheap suit, and he was holding a samurai-type sword. He had a mask attached to an oxygen tank on the floor beside him.

“Hey,” Diesel said.

Hatchet gave a curt nod.

“So this is a new look for you,” I said.

“I feel the fool,” Hatchet said. “?’Tis a sorry day when I must wear such cloth as this. Hatchet is of another age, and this is foreign garb for Hatchet.”

“Are you supposed to be guarding the treasure?” I asked him.

He slumped in his seat. “I will guard nothing without tights and tunic.” He blew out a sigh. “Truth is, I have not been asked to guard the treasure. I am locked away here as part of the treasure.”

“You have a sword.”

“I found it in a bin.”

“We need the stone,” I said to Hatchet.

“It is not here. I would have captured it for my true liege lord if given the chance.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Nay, I do not. It was on Ammon for a while, but the dog part of him grew too vicious under the stone’s influence. Rutherford sometimes transports it in a thick leather pouch. I believe it is currently locked away in a safe, but I don’t know where.”

I looked at the plastic bins stacked against the wall. “So this is what one hundred and ninety million dollars’ worth of treasure looks like.”

“Actually it is a lot less,” Hatchet said. “As in many tales of adventure, the facts have changed with the telling. When evaluated and tallied it was determined this amounted to a mere twenty-five million.”

“Hardly worth worrying about,” Diesel said. “No wonder Ammon left it unguarded in this vault.”

“It’s not unguarded,” Hatchet said. “The silly security men come to check on it from time to time.”

“How long have you be