Page 16 of Silent Smile

"Fair enough," Finn said. "Did you show her the symbol?"

"I did," Sheila nodded. "She couldn't identify it specifically, but she thought it looked like a crude attempt at a Native American symbol."

Finn leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "Well, I think I can do a bit better than that."

"Why? What did Dr. Fuller tell you?"

"She thinks the symbol might be connected to an ancient group of natives called the Nashoni."

"Nashoni?" Sheila echoed. "I've never heard of them."

"That's because almost nothing is known about them," Finn said. "According to Dr. Fuller, they were a small, nomadic tribe that lived in this area long before the Southern Paiute arrived. They were said to be masters of desert survival, able to move through the dunes without leaving a trace."

Sheila leaned forward, intrigued. "What else did she say about them?"

"Not much is known for certain. Most of what we have comes from a journal written by a Spanish explorer named Diego Alvarez in the late 1700s. He claimed the Nashoni had a deep spiritual connection to the desert. They believed the dunes were living entities, constantly shifting and changing like the wind itself."

"Fascinating," Sheila mused. "But how does it connect to our case?"

"Alvarez wrote about their spiritual practices. He described rituals performed at night, under the full moon. And he drew several symbols he saw them use, including one that's similar to what we found on Amanda Weller."

"What kind of rituals?" Sheila pressed.

"According to Alvarez, the Nashoni had a practice of 'returning' those who disrespected the desert to the sand. It's not clear if this was a punishment or some kind of spiritual cleansing, but..."

"But it sounds eerily similar to how we found Amanda," Sheila said.

Finn nodded grimly. "Exactly. Dr. Fuller was quick to point out that this could all be coincidence, or even fabrication on Alvarez's part. But it's a lead we can't ignore."

"What happened to the Nashoni?" Sheila asked.

"No one knows for sure. They seem to have vanished sometime in the early 1800s. Disease, conflict with other tribes, or maybe they just moved on. The dunes keep their secrets well."

Sheila nodded, processing this information. She wanted to ask Finn more, to bridge the awkward gap between them, but before she could, her phone buzzed. It was Star.

"Sorry, I need to take this," she said, stepping away from the table.

"Star? Is everything okay?" Sheila asked. It wasn't like Star to call rather than text.

"Not really," Star said, clearly frustrated. "This house is driving me crazy. The Wi-Fi keeps cutting out, and I think I heard something in the walls. Are you sure this place isn't haunted?"

Sheila suppressed a sigh. "Is Mrs. J still there?"

"Yeah, she's making dinner. Says we're having her 'famous meatloaf' or whatever." Star's attempt at sounding unimpressed wasn't quite convincing. "But that's not the point. When are you actually going to be home?"

The accusation hit harder than Sheila expected. Even with Mrs. Jacobs helping out, she knew Star needed more. She was providing for her, yes, had made sure she wasn't alone... but was that all Star was looking for, all she needed?

She had the uneasy feeling she was failing them both—the man she loved and the girl who needed stability more than anything. Having Mrs. Jacobs there helped, but it wasn't the same as being present herself. But admitting that felt dangerous, like acknowledging it might make everything crumble.

She glanced back at Finn, who was watching her, looking concerned. "I'm working on an important case, Star," she said. "You know that. But I promise, as soon as this is over, we'll sort everything out with the house. And thank Mrs. Jacobs for me, okay?"

There was a long pause before Star muttered, "Whatever. She says hi, by the way. And to be careful." Another pause. "Just... come home soon, alright?"

As Sheila ended the call and returned to the table, she could feel Finn's eyes on her. "Everything okay?" he asked, his tone softer than before.

Sheila shook her head. "Star's struggling with the new house. Mrs. Jacobs is there, but..." She trailed off, not needing to finish the thought.

"Well, she'll be sick of us soon enough. One weekend with the three of us stuck together, and we'll all be getting cabin fever."

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