Page 18 of When You're Gone

Turning to Amelia, Finn's eyes litup with realization. "I know this name," he said quietly but with asense of urgency coloring his tone. "Ezra Bellamy... I remember seeing itamong the books at Emily Stanton's house."

Amelia's face broke into a raregrin, her eyes alight with the thrill of progress in their investigation."Finally, we have a connection," she exclaimed softly. "But whois Ezra Bellamy?"

“Let me see what we took from thesafe, please,” Finn asked.

Amelia removed the books andparchments from the evidence bag in her hand, laying them out on the desk.Finn's gaze lingered on one particular book with a weathered cover. He pickedit up, flipping through the pages before his eyes widened in recognition.

"This one, too," Finnpointed out, showing Amelia the name inscribed on the title page. "It's byEzra Bellamy as well."

Amelia studied the book closely,her brow furrowed in concentration. "We'll need to find out who EzraBellamy is," she stated firmly, her mind already racing with possibilitiesas they delved deeper into the mysterious connections surrounding LucasHenshaw's hidden pursuits.

"Look at this parchment,"she said, picking up on the drawings of intricate gears and springs. "Thislooks similar to the drawings we found at the old mill. He must have been deepinto whatever he was working on. "

"Too deep," Finn agreed,thumbed through the book by Ezra Bellamy. The book was ancient, its pagesyellowed and delicate, but what drew Finn's attention were the feverish notesscribbled in the margins.

"Amelia, check this out."He pointed at a passage in the journal. "Our friend Lucas was not just acasual reader."

"Seems he fancied himself adecoder of sorts," Amelia said, leaning in closer to inspect theannotations. Numbers, symbols, and equations formed a chaotic constellationaround the text.

“But without a codex, I doubt wecan decipher what it means,” Amelia mused.

"Here," Finn tapped on anote that stood out amongst the mathematical maelstrom. "'The TempusMachine - key to control?' What do you make of that?"

"Tempus… I think that meansTime in Latin," Amelia offered, her voice low. "A tempus machinewould then infer something that controls time itself. Ms. Corbin was right,Lucas Henshaw really had lost his mind. A time machine? It’s like something outof a steampunk novel."

"Look at this," Finnmurmured, revealing hand transcribed notes on a piece of paper tucked insideone of the books. "Our man Lucas wasn't the only one with flights offancy. This is the same handwriting, and it looks like Lucas was workingalongside someone else."

Finn pointed to a passage that read‘Chronos knows. Must ask him about differential gear slip. Won’t work withoutit. But don’t trust him. Need to be careful.’

Amelia leaned in closer, her breathmaking its presence known on the back of Finn's neck. "Who is it?"she asked.

"Someone who goes by'Chronos,'" he replied, scrolling through the exchanges.

“Isn’t that another reference tothe past?” Amelia asked. “I think Chronos was a Titan in Greek mythology.”

“Different spelling,” Finn said. Hepulled out his phone and quickly searched for the name. He then read out loudwhat he had found. “I thought I’d heard of it. Chronos was a deity of sorts, hewas the keeper of time itself. The being that kept time moving.”

“A bit of a dramatic name,” Ameliasaid. “Much like our killer’s flair for the dramatic.”

“Agreed,” Finn said. “But look, onthe same page. There are coordinates.”

“We should put them into our mapsapp,” Amelia suggested.

"Already on it." Finn'seyes didn't leave the screen as his fingers danced across the screen. The roomaround them faded into background noise—the hum of electronics, the soft wheezeof the air conditioning system—all underscored by the relentless ticking of theclock on the wall.

"Got a location," Finnannounced, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

"Where does it lead us?"Amelia's voice held a mix of anticipation and dread.

"Let's find out." Finnpulled up a map on the screen, plotting the coordinates. A red dot blinked intoexistence, marking their destination. "A house on the outskirts of BinghamTown. Looks like it’s Victorian."

"Of course, it is,"Amelia said, pushing away from the desk with a sigh. "Let's go pay a visitto our mysterious 'Chronos.'"

CHAPTER EIGHT

The drive to the location wassilent, save for the occasional crackle of the police radio. When they arrivedat the derelict Victorian house, the sight before them seemed to echo themadness of the case. The once grand structure loomed like a specter against thegray sky, its windows darkened with age and neglect.

"Charming place," Finnremarked dryly as they stepped out of the car.

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