Page 43 of Silent Prayer

Sarah's brow furrowed in concentration. "We get all sorts of requests here, especially around Halloween or when the Masquerade is putting on a show. But now that you mention it..." She trailed off, her eyes unfocusing as if trying to recall a distant memory.

"Yes?" Sheila asked, leaning forward slightly.

"There was a man," Sarah said slowly. "He's been in several times over the past year. Always very polite, but intense, you know? Said he was working on an independent film project."

Sheila felt a surge of excitement. This could be the lead they needed. "Can you describe him?"

Sarah shrugged. "Average height and build, I suppose. Brown hair. Nothing really stood out about him physically. But his eyes...they were striking. Very intense, almost...I don't know, haunted?"

"Do you have security cameras in the store?" Finn asked.

Sarah nodded. "Yes, we installed them last year after a series of shoplifting incidents. I can get you the footage if you'd like." Her earlier hesitation seemed to have completely evaporated, perhaps due to her excitement to help them crack this case. Sheila hoped that meant that her insistence on only giving them five minutes would be forgotten, as well.

While Finn went with Sarah to retrieve the security tapes, Sheila continued to look around the office, her mind hummingwith possibilities. If the killer was indeed using this shop for his disguises, they might finally have a solid lead.

Sarah returned with a laptop, setting it on the desk. "Here we go," she said, pulling up the security footage. "I've queued it to the last time I remember seeing him."

Sheila and Finn leaned in, their eyes fixed on the grainy black-and-white footage. They watched as a man entered the shop, his movements purposeful but unhurried. He spent time browsing the wig section before moving to the makeup counter.

The man's face was partially obscured by the angle of the camera, but Sheila could make out enough to see that he was indeed of average height and build, with brown hair. Francine had described him as having gray hair, but that may have been a wig.

Or, for that matter, the brown hair could be the wig. There was no telling.

"We'll need a copy of this footage," Sheila said, leaning back.

"Of course," Sarah said. "I'll copy the file onto a thumb drive."

Sheila tried to hold back her discouragement, but it was difficult. She'd hoped for something more concrete to go on, but thus far the footage had been of little use.

While Sarah copied the file, Sheila's eyes wandered across the room. Her gaze landed on a framed poster on the wall for a production of 'The Crucible' by the Masquerade theater group, starring several names she'd never heard of: Mike Goodell, Ezra Thorne, Elsa Maye. There was a second post from the same group for a production of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar.

A thought stirred in the back of Sheila's mind. She pulled out her phone, navigating to the picture she'd taken of the killer's letter.

"What is it?" Finn asked, stepping closer.

"Something he said in the letter," she murmured. She scanned the text. Most of it struck her as pseudo-religious jargon. But then her gaze fell on a particular phrase.

"The tide is at its flood," she said. "I could swear I've heard that before."

"Hamlet," Sarah said.

Sheila and Finn both turned to look at her.

"The actual quote," Sarah said, "goes, 'there is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.'" She shrugged. "I did a lot of theater as a teenager."

"What about the Masquerade?" Sheila asked, pointing to the poster. "Do they do a lot of Shakespeare?"

Sarah nodded. "They did one of Hamlet just last year. I try to make it to as many of their shows as I can, not just because I love theater but also because they're our biggest clients. I've been providing costumes and makeup for their productions for years. In fact, their current director, Marcus Holloway, was just in last week discussing their upcoming show."

Sheila felt a chill run down her spine. The disguises, the theatrical supplies, the allusion to Shakespeare… Could it be that their killer wasn't just using disguises, but was actually involved in theater?

If so, it would explain his skill with disguises and his flair for the dramatic. But it also meant that there was no telling how much of his behavior was an act. The priest impersonation, the religious jargon in the letter—it might all be a ruse, a trick.

Which was to say, they might know even less about him than they'd thought.

Finn cleared his throat. "Where exactly does this group like to meet?"

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