Casing the lich-lair!
Vinnie knew something about how to case a place and do a scout, and Pete wasn’t about to ask why. Working with organized crime like this was probably a mistake, but forty grand was a lot of money. Besides, he could tell the mob guy was interested in the work. Vinnie kept asking questions, and they weren’t dumb ones.
“Okay, a rundown place makes sense,” Vinnie said, as the two of them looked at the abandoned warehouse. It was only one story, the windows were so grimy they might as well have been boarded up, and a big padlock was on the front door. Around back there was another door, out of sight of the street, and that wasn’t locked. “But isn’t this out of the way? There ain’t nobody around here but bums.”
“That’s the idea,” Pete replied as they crouched in the bushes. “Liches like to lair up. You gotta, when you’re a walking skeleton with burning eyes. Besides, it doesn’t need food or water or even electricity to get comfy. As long as the roof doesn’t leak, it’s gonna be happy.”