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"Alright," Sheila said, trying to hide her growing impatience. "Mind explaining to us where you were night?"
"Last night? I was at home, hosting a dinner party for a few close friends," Reilly replied smoothly. "I can provide you with their names and contact information if necessary."
"Please do," Finn said, his voice strained as he tried to maintain a professional tone. He pulled out a notepad and pen, ready to jot down the information.
"Thank you," Sheila added, feeling the weight of another dead end bearing down on her. She studied Reilly's face once more, searching for any hint of deception or guilt, but found none.
"We appreciate your cooperation, Ms. Hubble. If we have any further questions, we'll be in touch."
"Of course," Reilly replied, rising gracefully from her seat. "I truly hope you find whoever is responsible for these heinous acts."
As Reilly exited the room, Sheila turned to Finn, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Two down, one to go," she said, steeling herself for the next interview.
"Right," Finn agreed, glancing at his notepad. "The third palm reader's name is Autumn Wood."
"Autumn Wood?" Sheila repeated a hint of a smirk on her lips. "Sounds like a name straight out of a fairy tale. Let's hope she has some answers for us."
Finn nodded, his face mirroring the same sense of urgency that coursed through Sheila's veins. The closer they got to finding the truth, the more elusive it seemed to become.
Sheila and Finn entered the third interview room, Sheila's nerves slightly frayed from the previous two conversations. Sitting before them was Autumn Wood, a picture of serenity amidst the chaos surrounding the investigation. She had an ethereal beauty, with long, wavy auburn hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to see straight into one's soul. Her slender frame was draped in a flowing cream-colored dress, completing the otherworldly image she portrayed.
"Ms. Wood," Sheila began, her voice steady despite the tension coiling in her gut. "I'm Detective Sheila Stone, and this is my partner, Deputy Finn Mercer. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."
"Of course," Autumn replied softly, her gaze never leaving Sheila. "I am here to help in any way I can."
As Autumn studied Sheila, an unsettling feeling crept over Sheila. She felt exposed, as if Autumn could see past her carefully constructed façade and into the depths of her pain. It unnerved her, but she pushed it aside, determined to get to the bottom of this case.
"You seem to be carrying a great deal of pain, Detective Stone," Autumn said suddenly, her voice tinged with compassion.
Sheila stiffened, her thoughts immediately going to her dead sister. She attempted to brush off the comment with a tight smile. "We all have our burdens, Ms. Wood. But we're not here to discuss mine."
"Your sister," Autumn continued, undeterred. "Her loss weighs heavily on you."
The mention of her sister hit Sheila like a punch to the gut, and she struggled to maintain her composure. Finn, noticing her discomfort, intervened. "We're not here for a reading, Ms. Wood. We have questions regarding the recent murders of Juliette Reed and Natasha Petrova."
"Of course," Autumn said, her eyes still locked onto Sheila's. "But remember, Detective Stone, the weight of your pain will crush you if you don't find help to carry it."
Sheila swallowed hard, trying to ignore Autumn's comment. She didn't know a thing about Sheila, or the grief she experienced.
"Let's discuss the victims," Sheila said, redirecting the conversation. She needed to regain control of the situation and fast. "You met with both Juliette Reed and Natasha Petrova, correct? Can you tell us about those meetings?"
Autumn nodded, her hands folded on the table. "Yes, I did meet with them. They came seeking guidance like many others who visit me. I sensed a great deal of suffering in their futures."
Sheila leaned forward, intrigued by Autumn's statement. "Can you be more specific?"
"Both women had dark shadows surrounding them," Autumn replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I could feel an oppressive energy that seemed to cling to them. I warned them to be cautious, but they didn't seem too concerned. Some clients are more receptive than others."
She paused. "Are they…dead?" she asked hesitantly, her gaze flickering between Sheila and Finn.
Finn narrowed his eyes, suspicion evident in his tone. "Why would you ask that?"
"Before…I could sense them, even from a distance. A faint hum of their presence. But now…" Autumn paused, her face etched with concern. "It's as if they've been silenced, wiped away from existence."
A chill ran down Sheila's spine at Autumn's words. "Yes, they're dead. Both were murdered in their homes."
"Such a tragedy," Autumn murmured, shaking her head sadly. "I wish I could have done more to help them."
Sheila studied Autumn's expression, trying to gauge her sincerity. Was it genuine sorrow she saw, or something else? One thing was certain: there was more to this woman than met the eye. And if Sheila wanted to uncover the truth behind the murders, she couldn't afford to let any lead slip through her fingers—even if it meant delving into the murky world of the supernatural.
