Page 58 of Silent Prayer

"Come on," she muttered, trying again. Still nothing.

She was about to give up when a new thought struck her. What if the numbers weren't a sequence, but rather coordinates on the safe's surface? She remembered seeing similar systems in some of Thorne's astronomical writings, where he used a grid system to map out star positions.

With trembling fingers, she tried again. This time, instead of following the numbers in order, she imagined the safe's face as a grid. If the top left corner was zero-zero, then each number pair could represent a specific point on the safe's surface.

The first constellation had the numbers two and one next to it, so she pressed the spot two units to the right and one unit down from the top left corner. She did the same for eachconstellation, using their respective number pairs to determine where to press.

As she pressed the final point, there was a soft click. The safe door swung open. She let out a sigh of relief. She could hardly believe it had worked.

Inside the safe, she found stacks of cash, some jewelry, and a few old books. But no candlestick. Sheila slammed the safe shut, her frustration mounting.

"All that for nothing," she muttered.

Downstairs, she could hear Finn moving around. She hoped he was having better luck than she was.

The master bedroom was her last hope. It was larger than the guest room, with a king-sized bed and heavy curtains blocking out the afternoon sun. Sheila searched methodically: under the bed, in the nightstands, through the closet. Nothing.

Finn's voice drifted up from below. "Sheila? You need to see this."

She hurried downstairs, finding Finn in the kitchen. He was standing in front of an open pantry, his face pale.

"What is it?" Sheila asked, peering around him.

The pantry was full of canned goods and dry staples, but that's not what had caught Finn's attention. On one shelf, partially hidden behind a box of cereal, was a small bottle of ipecac syrup.

The same substance used to poison Jason Reeves, Rachel Kim's dog sitter.

"Shit," Sheila said.

This was damning evidence, but not what they had come for. And besides, they couldn't take it without a warrant.

"Any candlesticks?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Finn shook his head. "Nothing. Sheila, we need to go. We've already crossed a line being here. If we're caught..."

She nodded reluctantly. "You're right. Let's go."

As they made their way to the front door, Sheila's mind was whirling. The poison was certainly suspicious, but the absence of even a single candlestick still nagged at her. Had Thorne hidden it well…

Or was its absence proof of his innocence?

***

Sheila's footsteps echoed in the empty hallway of the community center. The building felt different now, devoid of the energy and fervor that had filled it during the Celestial Awakening meeting.

She checked her watch—fifteen minutes until the press conference. Finn was back at the station, probably pacing nervously as he prepared their statement.

And cursing her under his breath.

But Sheila couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial. That's why she'd come back here, hoping to find...well, she wasn't sure what exactly. A clue, a hint, anything that might point them in the right direction.

As she walked, her mind went over everything they knew about the Coldwater Confessor: the disguises, the priest impersonation, the first murder in the confessional, the candlestick... Each piece of the puzzle seemed to fit Thorne, and yet something felt off.

Sheila paused in front of a bulletin board covered in flyers and announcements. Her eyes scanned the colorful papers absently as her thoughts wandered to the other members of Celestial Awakening. Who were they, really? What had drawn them to Thorne's teachings?

She thought about the victims: Laura, Sophie, Rachel, Emily. Their faces haunted her dreams, their unsolved murders a constant reminder of her failure. And now, with the pressconference looming, she felt the pressure more than ever. If they were wrong about Thorne, if the real killer was still out there...

Sheila shook her head, trying to clear the dark thoughts. She had to focus. There had to be something here, some clue they'd overlooked.

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