Chapter 23
CHAPTER 24: The Ghost Foyer
The Oakwood Country Club, once the crown jewel of high society, looked like an abandoned mausoleum. The iron gates were padlocked, but the chain was loose. We slipped through the service entrance, our footsteps echoing hollowly against the concrete pathways.
When we stepped into the grand foyer, the scene of our victory looked pathetic. The twelve-foot-tall double oak doors were gone, removed by forensics or maintenance. A piece of cheap plywood stood in their place. Shards of glass and fragments of Sarah’s old carbon-fiber shell still dusted the edges of the marble floor.
"The private vault is behind the manager’s office," I whispered, guiding Sarah through the dark hallway. The crystal chandeliers above were dead, casting long, skeletal shadows.
We reached the office. The door had been forced open, the lock shattered. Inside, the wall safe stood open, completely empty.
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"We’re too late," I muttered, a wave of defeat washing over me. "They cleared it out."
"No," Sarah said, kneeling down on the dusty carpet. She pointed to the heavy mahogany desk. "Look at the dust patterns. Someone moved this desk recently, but they didn't touch the floorboards underneath."
