Page 47 of Silent Prayer

Finn nodded, but it was clear from the look on his face he was disappointed.

Sheila placed a comforting hand on Dawson's shoulder. "We'll take it from here, Sheriff. Why don't you get some air?"

As Dawson retreated, Sheila and Finn entered the house. The interior was a stark contrast to the peaceful exterior. The entryway was a chaos of overturned furniture and shattered picture frames. A trail of blood led from the living room to the kitchen.

Sheila's eyes followed the trail, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what she'd find at its end. The kitchen was brightly lit, emphasizing the horror of the scene. Emily Davis lay crumpled on the floor, her red hair matted with blood.

Dr. Jin Zihao, the county coroner, looked up as they entered. "Deputies," he said solemnly.

"What can you tell us, Doc?" Finn asked.

Zihao gestured to the body. "Cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma to the head and upper body. Multiple impacts, suggesting a frenzied attack. Weapon was likely cylindrical, possibly a—"

"Candlestick," Sheila finished, her voice tight. Just like the others.

Zihao nodded. "Preliminary time of death is between nine-thirty and ten-thirty pm. I'll know more after the autopsy."

As Zihao continued his examination, Sheila began to survey the room. Her trained eye picked out details others might miss. A broken necklace lay near the victim's hand, its crystal pendant glinting under the harsh lights. A half-empty mug of tea sat on the counter, still faintly warm to the touch.

"She let him in," Sheila murmured. "There's no sign of forced entry. She knew her killer, or he found some way to gain her trust."

Finn nodded. "If he was in disguise..."

Sheila's gaze fell on a corkboard hanging on the wall. It was covered in colorful flyers and business cards. 'New Age Healing Center,' one proclaimed. 'Aura Readings by Madame Zara,' said another.

"Finn, look at this," she said. "Looks like Emily was into New Age spirituality."

"Laura and Sophie were devout, Rachel was an atheist, and now we learn Emily was New Age," Finn murmured. "Maybe religion has nothing to do with it."

As they examined the board, a soft voice spoke from behind them. "She was always searching for meaning."

Sheila turned to see a young woman standing in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. "I'm sorry, you are...?"

"Lisa Pritchard," the woman replied. "I'm...I was Emily's best friend. The officers said I could come in to answer some questions."

Sheila nodded, gesturing for Lisa to take a seat at the kitchen table, carefully positioning her away from the gruesome scene on the floor. "Can you tell us about Emily?"

Lisa took a shaky breath. "Em was...she was amazing. So full of life, you know? Always looking for the beauty in everything. That's why she loved working at the gallery."

"And her interest in New Age beliefs?" Finn asked. "When did that start?"

"Oh, that." Lisa gave a watery chuckle. "Em was always exploring different spiritual paths. Said she was looking for her 'true calling.' Last month it was crystals, before that it was tarot cards. She was curious about everything. Sometimes led to some…interestingconversations with visitors at the gallery."

"What do you mean by 'interesting'?" Sheila asked.

Lisa shrugged. "Well, you know how art can be. People see different things in it. Emily loved discussing interpretations with visitors, especially if they had a spiritual or mystical bent to them. She'd talk for hours about the energy she felt from certain paintings or sculptures."

Finn leaned forward slightly. "Did she ever mention any particular visitors who shared her interests? Maybe someone who came by frequently?"

Lisa furrowed her brow, thinking. "There were a few regulars, but no one stands out. Oh, wait—there was this one guy. Came in a couple of times last month. Emily said he had some fascinating theories about sacred geometry in art."

Sheila's pulse quickened. "Can you describe this man?"

"I never met him myself," Lisa admitted. "Emily just mentioned him in passing. Said he was middle-aged, kind ofintense. But that describes half the art enthusiasts who come through the gallery, to be honest."

Sheila nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. Another vague description, another potential lead that seemed to fade away as soon as they grasped it.

"Did Emily ever mention feeling uncomfortable or threatened by anyone?" Finn asked. "At the gallery or in her personal life?"

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