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"Already on it," Amelia replied, switching over to the Companies House database. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she searched for information on the company's owner.
"Here we go," she said triumphantly. "The owner of Antiquity Rising is a man named Horace Velace. And get this – he had charges dropped against him three years ago when a woman claimed he assaulted her."
"Assault?" Finn frowned, a chill running down his spine. "That might not necessarily connect him to our case, but it's worth looking into. He could have escalated from physical abuse to murder. We need to find out more about this guy."
"Agreed," Amelia replied, her eyes alight with determination. "We might be onto something here, Finn. Let's keep digging."
Finn felt relief that there was another thread to pull at. But tiredness was now making itself known.
Amelia finally pushed back from the makeshift desk in the rundown room. Finn stretched his arms above his head, feeling the ache in his muscles from the day's events.
"Ugh, I need a break," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Me too," Amelia agreed, stifling a yawn. "We should try and rest."
As if aware, Constable Mulberry appeared in the doorway, concern etched on his face. "You both look exhausted. Why don't you get some rest? There's no hotel nearby, but we have empty cells you can sleep in for the night."
"Cells?" Finn raised an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I always knew I'd end up in one someday."
"If the Keatings have anything to do with it, we'll all end up in one," Amelia said. "And for more than a night."
Amelia turned to Mulberry.
"Thanks, Constable Mulberry," she said, gathering her belongings. "We'll take you up on that offer."
"Better than sleeping in this old chair," Finn added, giving the rickety wooden seat a light kick.
"Follow me," Mulberry said.
As they trudged down the hall toward the cells, Finn's mind raced with thoughts about Horace Velace and his potential connection to the murders. The exhaustion was creeping up on him, making it difficult to focus. He had to keep reminding himself that they were inching closer to solving the case.
"Get some sleep, Winters," Finn told her softly as they reached the cell doors. "Please don't disturb my beauty sleep."
"You do need it," Amelia said. "Good night, Finn. Tomorrow, we'll track down Horace Velace and find out if he's our guy."
Finn nodded, his heart pounding with anticipation as he stepped into the dimly lit cell. He knew that tomorrow held the key to cracking the case wide open. As he lay down on the hard cot, the weight of the day finally caught up with him.
"Good night, Cornwall," he whispered, his eyes closing as sleep claimed him. But the rest would be in short supply.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Finn's eyes fluttered open, the grittiness of sleep still clinging to his vision. The cold metal of the cell bench pressed against his back, and he sat up stiffly. A faint scream pierced the air, echoing through the narrow hallways of the police station. He blinked, trying to clear his head.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice barely a whisper. Another scream, this one louder, snapped him into full wakefulness. He sprung to his feet, heart pounding in his chest as he gripped the handle of the cell door. It was locked.
"Hey! Let me out of here!" he shouted, rattling the door.
The screams continued, chilling Finn to the core. Panic and confusion washed over him – why was he locked in this cell? He fumbled for his cell phone, desperate to call for help. But as his fingers swiped across the screen, all that greeted him was a 'no reception' message.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, frustration boiling within him. His thoughts raced, trying to piece together how he had ended up in this situation. The memories would not come. He felt like the victim of a terrible amnesia.
"Is anyone out there?" he bellowed, his desperation growing with each unanswered plea. The chilling screams persisted, adding fuel to the fire of panic that consumed him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was happening just beyond his reach. The screams wouldn't stop.
As he stood there, adrenaline coursing through his veins, Finn couldn't help but think about everything that had led him to this moment – his suspension from the FBI, Demi leaving him, the cases he'd solved with Amelia, and the undeniable attraction between them. He felt as if he were teetering on the edge of a precipice, and he didn't know which way to fall.
All he knew was that his decisions had led him to imprisonment of some kind.
It's all my fault, he thought.
