“Clearly, our services are no longer required.”
“Quite correct. We will be ending our relationship shortly. The paper,bitte.”
He hesitated another moment, then handed it to Fenn, who read the words.
“What does it say?” the duke asked.
“To infinity and beyond.”
“That makes no sense.”
Cotton smiled. “It did to Buzz Lightyear.”
* * *
DERRICK ENTERED THE KING’S BEDROOM. LOTS OF CARVED OAKpanels, a stout central pillar, and a ceiling of joist woodwork. The paintings here were the same, but different, draping the top half of the walls. The canopied bed seemed some elaborate work of art, obviously hand-carved and loaded with richly ornamented finials. To his left, glass-paneled doors opened out to what appeared to be a balcony. One of them hung slightly ajar and he heard the waterfall in the distance.
Odd the door would be open.
* * *
RIFE STOOD INSIDE WHAT HAD ONCE BEEN SOME SORT OF INTERIORcloset. It opened through a panel in the bedroom wall that, when closed, completely concealed the entrance. He would have never known it existed but for his earlier review of the castle layout.
Now it provided the perfect lair.
He and Knight waited with guns ready, listening as Koger’s footsteps inched across the outer hardwood floor, each one partially cushioned by a floor rug. He’d left the balcony door ajar as a way to draw Koger’s attention and provide a few precious moments of advantage. The problem was that the door to the closet was solid oak with no openings, so he had no idea what was happening on the other side. Everything depended on timing.
He nodded at Knight.
Now.
He pulled open the panel.
The door leading out to the balcony hung half open.
As if someone had gone out.
But Koger was gone.
* * *
DERRICK WASN’T SURE IF HE WAS MORE ANGRY AT THE TRAP LAIDfor him or that whoever laid it thought him that stupid. Once he’d seen the open door he’d retreated into a bay window alcove just to the left. Draperies framed out the opening and offered the perfect cover for him to retreat behind. And sure enough, just a few seconds passed before he heard the soft squeak of hinges, then quick footsteps.
“Where’d he go?” a man said.
Terry Knight.
Which meant—
Derrick stepped out, leveled his gun, and said, “Right here.”
His first round took Knight down with a shot to the chest. His eyes surveyed the room and caught a half-opened panel in the wall to the left of the bed and a washing table. He readjusted his aim and fired two rounds into it.
The oak panel swung farther inward.
Then he finished off Knight with a shot to the head.
* * *