Page 62 of Silent Ritual

"It's not that. I…" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I trust you. And I want you there. No more half-measures, no more hiding the most painful parts of my life from you. I'm giving you the master key."

Finn raised his eyebrows. "You don't mean a literal key—"

"No, I'm not talking about the key to my apartment." She slapped his arm playfully. "I just…I don't want there to be secrets between us, okay?"

He touched her cheek, his eyes full of tenderness. "Neither do I." He kissed her forehead.

"Are you kidding?" Star exclaimed. "We all just nearly died, and you think it's time for a makeout session?"

Sheila and Finn grinned at one another as they pulled away. "Guess we'd better get the little one to bed," Finn said.

Sheila laughed, struck by how odd it sounded. How settled. But even more surprising was the fact that she didn't mind.

Be careful, she thought. This one's fixing to sweep you off your feet.

Then again, maybe he already had.

EPILOGUE

Sheila cleared her throat and shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she waited in the nursing home lobby.

Come on, she thought, tapping her fingers on the desk. There’s got to be someone on duty.

While she waited, she pulled out her phone and examined the picture she’d taken of the list of names in the trailer of Eddie Mills, the man she suspected of killing her mother. She had already tracked down a number of the names, most of them estranged family members who hadn’t heard from Eddie in years and had no idea where he might be. It appeared Eddie was something of a dope fiend who had ruined more than a few relationships by lying about his addiction and making no effort to return the tens of thousands of dollars he’d borrowed to fund his addiction, so it was little surprise that his family wanted little to do with him.

There was one person left on the list, however: Estella Wright, Eddie’s godmother. According to Eddie’s cousin, Jules, Estella was the only one who’d never turned Eddie away, never berated him for his choices. Apparently he visited her from time to time, trading flowers for the chance to pour out his sorrows.

She might even know where he was living.

As she waited for the receptionist to find a nurse who could take her to Estella's room, Sheila glanced around the aging facility. The russet-colored wallpaper was beginning to peel in places, the carpet was worn thin, and the once-bright plastic plants that dotted the area had faded with time.

She was just about to go over to the reception counter again when an elderly lady shuffled into the lobby from one of the hallways. The woman was short, with a hunched back and a pair of thick spectacles perched on her nose, magnifying her eyes. She leaned heavily on a walker, her gnarled hands shaking slightly as she moved toward Sheila.

“You looking for Estella?” she asked, her voice weak but clear.

Sheila nodded, putting her phone away. “Yes,” she said. “I’m Deputy Stone.”

The woman’s eyes widened behind her glasses. She moved closer to Sheila and extended a trembling hand.

“I’m Mary, Estella’s roommate," she said, her frail hands gripping Sheila's firmly. "She's expecting you."

Sheila followed the elderly woman through a labyrinth of long, sterile-smelling hallways, each one seemingly identical to the last. As they moved deeper into the facility, Sheila couldn't shake off her anxiety. She had a lead on her mother's killer, and now it was essential to extract as much information from Estella as possible.

The door to Estella's room was ajar. Mary gently pushed it open and shuffled into the room, gesturing for Sheila to follow. The room was sparely furnished with two single beds separated by a small table with a lamp. On one side lay an old woman propped up by pillows. She had an oxygen mask resting on her forehead, and her frail hands were folded neatly on her stomach.

Sheila approached cautiously, unsure how to broach the topic at hand. "Mrs. Wright?" she asked softly.

Estella turned her head slowly toward Sheila, visibly straining to focus her rheumy eyes on the deputy. A faint smile cracked her pale, chapped lips. "Yes, dear?" she asked, her voice a raspy whisper.

Sheila took a deep breath. "I'm Deputy Stone, ma'am," she said, pulling out her badge. "I need to ask you some questions about Eddie Mills."

A range of emotions flickered across Estella's aged face—surprise, confusion, and finally a deep sadness. She nodded weakly and beckoned Sheila closer.

"He's not in trouble again, is he?" she asked.

"Eddie is...involved in something serious," Sheila replied carefully.

"I see." Estella sighed heavily, sinking further into bed. "I was afraid someone like you would come by sooner or later, given his history.”

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