Page 146 of Risky Obsession

I followed her gaze to a series of buildings lined along the back wall. “Let’s start there. The gold has to be hidden somewhere out of view.”

The dripping noise grew louder, and I hated how the Nazi flag hanging on the back wall fluttered in a breeze. It was like the distressing moniker was celebrating its survival even after all these decades.

“How much space would that much gold need?” Lacey asked.

“One hundred bars would fit into the boot of a small car or a suitcase.It’s the weight that would be an issue. One person could lift say four, maybe five bars. They wouldn’t be able to lift a suitcase filled with a hundred bars.”

We reached the open doorway of an office with papers strewn everywhere like a tornado had blasted through it. On the dusty table was an open ledger, with a pen wedged in the crease.

I headed for the rusted filing cabinet, while Lacey aimed for the desk.

“Yasmin’s father would have loved to see all this stuff.” She leaned over the journal. “Looks like some kind of shipping manifest.”

I yanked the handle on the top drawer of the filing cabinet, and the drawer opened just three inches before it got stuck. It was crammed full of paperwork. I moved onto the next drawer. “Nothing in here,” I said as shoved the bottom drawer shut. I exited that office and strode toward the next.

“Shall we split up?” Lacey asked.

“Sure, you take this one. I’ll do the next.”

We moved from office to office, each time marveling at just how much stuff had been left behind, but not finding any clues to the gold.

Lacey was still going through an office when I strode into the last one. This room was larger than the others and the massive oak desk gave adon’t fuck with mevibe. This was the commander’s office. As I strode around the other side of the desk, I shoved the chair back. The stiff wheels scraped over the bare concrete, and I wondered if that asshole Goering had sat in this very chair.

Unlike all the other offices, this one had been cleared out. Every drawer on the desk was empty. Same with the filing cabinets along the wall.

Lacey strolled into the office. “Kane, look!”

She pointed over my shoulder, and I turned around. On the wall behind a row of filing cabinets was an oval-shaped frame with a yellowed photo of a woman.

“That’s Emmy Sonnemann.” Lacey reached my side.

“Holy shit.”

She pulled the photo off the wall and flipped it over, but there was nothing written on the back.

“What’s behind these cabinets?” I said. Working like a man possessed, I hauled a cabinet forward, and the steel base scraped over the concrete like it was screaming atme to stop.

“There’s a secret panel!” Lacey cried.

“Fuck yeah!”

The panel was disguised as part of the concrete wall and was barely visible. My heart thundered in my chest as Lacey helped me move another cabinet.

“Watch out.” Lacey pointed at a rectangular hole in the floor that had been hidden by the cabinet. It would break my ankle if I fell in it. Lacey would probably fall right through.

We moved a third cabinet out of the way to give us more room and a pile of copper pipes fell off the top and clattered onto the floor. I shoved them out of our way and turned back to the wall. The outline of the hidden panel was low like it was built for a child.

“There’s no handle,” Lacey said. “How do we open it?”

I kicked the panel, and my boot went right through the wall.

Lacey cheered and working together, we broke through the fake wall.

I shone my phone light into the space and found an empty room that was long and narrow and about the size of a semi-trailer. The curved ceiling and the walls had all been reinforced with concrete.

“Looks like a security bunker,” I said as Lacey and I stepped in. While she could stand upright, I had to duck my head to fit.

“What’s that?” She pointed to the far side, and we strode to a circular hole in the floor.