PART 6: Shadows on the Stairs
Footsteps heavy and deliberate echoed down the wooden stairs, accompanied by the harsh beam of a high-powered flashlight cutting through the gloom. Eleanor’s eldest niece, Richard, stepped into the light, holding a heavy iron tire iron in his leather-gloved hand. His face was twisted into a bitter, triumphant sneer as he caught sight of the opened safe door.
“You really thought she loved a homeless drifter?” Richard spat, his voice echoing off the damp stone walls. “She was hiding the family fortune from us, and you just handed us the combination to the vault.” He stepped closer, raising the heavy tool, completely unaware that Eleanor had anticipated this exact confrontation decades ago.
Before he could swing, the sharp sound of emergency sirens began to wail down the long driveway outside the house. How did the police know to arrive at the exact right moment? Go to the next part to discover the horrifying truth…
