Page 40 of Silent Ritual

Star sighed and sank down into a chair, then scooted the laptop closer. “Well, I guess I don’t have anything better to do…”

Having surrendered the use of her laptop, Sheila decided to join Finn at the desktop.

"Find anything yet?" she asked.

Finn shook his head, frustration lining the creases on his face. "Nothing that matches our cases. Believe it or not, gold-plated weapons are not exactly a popular choice for murdering people."

“That’s good, though, isn’t it? Narrows down the possibilities?”

Finn sighed and sat back. “Maybe we should try another angle. Where would the killer have gotten a gold-plated knife, anyway?”

“Family heirloom, maybe?”

“This isn’t a butter knife we’re talking about. The blade that made those wounds—it must have been quite sharp. Where do you get something like that? A museum?”

“We could ask around, see if any museums are missing a piece like that,” Sheila suggested. “Maybe the knife has to do with some sort of ritual—”

"Are all these people really Satan-worshipers?” Star asked.

Puzzled, Sheila approached and looked over her shoulder at the paper Star was reading. The document in question contained information on the group of occultists who had met with Cassandra Jenkins at the university. After Sheila and Finn had infiltrated the meeting, a few of the members had been caught, but others had never been identified. The document contained the five or six whose identities had been confirmed.

“They’re not Satanists,” Finn said. “Well, not necessarily. They’re more into astrology and witchcraft, by the sound of it.”

“Hold on,” Sheila murmured. “We never vetted these people, Finn. Jenkins told us about her method for predicting where the killer would leave his next victim, and we just ran with it. We never circled back to investigate the other members.”

Finn leaned back in his chair. “We did vet the ones who attacked us with weapons—I made sure of it. But these others…" He frowned thoughtfully. "You think one of them could be the killer?”

“Think about it. They’re into astrology and the occult. A number of them, according to Jenkins, were out roaming the salt flats looking for bodies, which suggests they may not have alibis.”

Finn shifted in his chair, apparently shaking off his earlier frustration. "Then let's get to it," he said. “Let’s start with the names of the people who were already arrested. Who do we have?”

“Four people,” Star said, reading from the document. “Owen Mitchell, Stacy Williams, Leonard Stark, and Dorothy F. Peters."

None of the names rang a bell for Sheila. “Alright,” she said, pulling the laptop back toward herself. “Let’s see what we can find out about these four. I’ll take Mitchell, you take Williams." She addressed this last remark to Finn.

“What about me?” Star asked. “I’ve got a phone. I can search social media, that kind of thing.”

“Then start with Stark,” Finn said. “Whoever finishes first will get Peters.”

Sheila started by checking the police database to see if Owen Mitchell had a record. As she waited for the database to load, she glanced at Finn, who was now engrossed in his own search. Star was hunched over her phone, scrolling rapidly through what Sheila assumed was Leonard Stark's social media profile.

A moment later, the database returned its results. Owen Mitchell had a record, but it was minor—a few instances of public disorderly conduct and a DUI charge from seven years ago. Aside from that, his record was clean.

She made a note of it and moved on to his employment records. A former university professor, Mitchell had resigned from his position three years back and now ran an obscure bookstore downtown, one that specialized in rare and arcane books. It made sense, Sheila thought, pinching the bridge of her nose. His interest in the occult was more than just a hobby.

Still, a hobby didn’t make him a murderer.

She glanced up from the laptop at Finn, catching his eye. "Mitchell hasn't done anything serious," she said. "Some disorderly conduct and a DUI, but nothing more."

Finn nodded without lifting his gaze from his screen. "Williams appears clean as well. Nothing beyond a few traffic violations."

Star, however, seemed too engrossed in her phone to contribute to their conversation. Her brow furrowed, her lips pursed in concentration.

“Star?” Sheila asked. “Something interesting?”

Star looked up and blinked at them. “He owns a local observatory. Leonard Stark, I mean. He's got photos of it all over his social media."

Finn and Sheila exchanged a glance before Sheila quickly turned back to her laptop, typing in the name of the observatory.

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