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"Whenever I crave a drink, this helps," he explained, setting the bowl down in front of her. "An old friend in recovery shared the recipe with me. I keep some frozen in the break room just in case."
Sheila lifted the spoon, hesitating for a moment before taking a cautious sip. The warmth spread immediately through her, the rich flavors a welcome comfort against the sharp edges of her sorrow. "It's good," she murmured, relief evident in her voice.
"Thought you might like it," Finn replied, sitting down beside her.
She studied him. "Why are you doing this? You seem so…calm, so stable. You must be hurting, too, though—losing Natalie, I mean."
Finn's face clouded. He tried to smile, but Sheila could tell it was forced.
"It's not easy," he began hesitantly. "But I've learned that the only way to deal with pain is to face it head-on. Drinking won't make it go away, and it certainly won't bring Natalie back."
Sheila nodded solemnly, understanding his words on a deep level. She had been using alcohol as a crutch, trying to numb her pain instead of facing the reality of her problems—and the haunting fear that she might eventually crack as her sister had.
She wanted to keep talking about Natalie, but just then Finn spoke.
"Now pull yourself together," he said with mock seriousness. "We've got work to do, Officer Stone." He smiled, but again the smile was forced. There was pain behind his eyes, and Sheila wondered the toll it must be taking on him to know his boss – and, more importantly, personal friend – had taken her own life. Sheila's own struggles with alcoholism couldn't be easy to talk about, either.
Did it make him think about having a drink? How was he coping?
"Alright," he said. "What do you say we start looking up some of the names on this list?" He opened his laptop, its screen casting a pale glow over the cluttered desk, and just like that the moment was gone. Sheila sensed that Finn wasn't ready to share his pain with her, wasn't ready to talk about how Natalie's death was affecting him. That was okay. Whenever he was ready, she would be there for him.
Turning her thoughts back to the case, Sheila pulled up her phone's browser. The steady clicking of keys and the gentle tapping on her phone filled the quiet office as they delved into the lives of the local psychics, searching for any clue that might connect them to the murder.
As Sheila scrolled through webpage after webpage, she found herself comparing each palm reader's alibi with the timeline of Juliette Reed's death two nights ago. The more she searched, the more determined she became to find the truth. She couldn't let this case consume her like Natalie's loss had, and she knew she owed it to both herself and the victims to see justice served.
"Hey, I think I found something," Finn said, his voice low and focused. He turned the laptop screen toward Sheila, revealing the website of a psychic named Sage Walker.
Sheila leaned in closer to get a better look at the video playing on the screen. The room in the video was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls. A single candle flickered on a small wooden table, where Sage sat across from a middle-aged man with a troubled expression. Sage was an older woman with long, graying hair that hung loose around her shoulders. Her eyes seemed to bore into the man's soul as she studied his palm intently.
As the video progressed, Sage's face grew visibly disturbed. She appeared upset, even frightened, as she traced the lines on the man's palm with her trembling fingers. "Your future...it's dark, full of pain and loss," she whispered, her voice quivering with emotion.
The man across from her looked surprised and distressed, clearly not expecting such a grim reading. His eyes darted from Sage's face to his own hand, as if searching for some kind of escape from her ominous words.
"Can you turn up the volume?" Sheila asked, her heart pounding with anticipation.
Finn obliged, and they listened as Sage's voice filled the quiet office. "I see a great danger looming over you, one that threatens to consume everything you hold dear."
"Wow, this is intense," Finn said, his eyes locked on the screen.
"What do you mean?" the man asked in an uncertain voice. "Great danger? What are you talking about?"
Sage's face contorted in agony as she continued to read the man's palm. "I see...I see a darkness, a shadow that follows you wherever you go. It's like a curse, a mark that you cannot escape. And it's coming for you. It's coming for everyone you love."
The man's eyes widened in fear as he recoiled from Sage's touch. "What can I do?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.
Sage leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm afraid there is nothing you can do. It is too late—your fate is already set in stone."
The video came to an abrupt end, the screen fading to black. The silence in the room was palpable as the echoes of Sage's dark predictions lingered in the air. Sheila shivered despite herself, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and adrenaline. She glanced at Finn, who looked equally unsettled.
"Damn, that was dark," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I've never seen a palm reading like that before. Not that I've seen many palm readings in my life."
"Neither have I," Sheila said, her mind racing. "But it seems like that's how Sage wants it—dark and scary. She almost seemed to be..."
"Enjoying it?"
Sheila nodded grimly. "Exactly. Like she feeds off the fear she creates."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
