CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"I know Coldwater pretty well, but I have to say this is one place I've never visited," Sheila said.

The sun was setting as she and Finn pulled up to the Sanctuary of the Celestial Path. The store was tucked away in a quiet corner of Coldwater's historic district, its weathered brick facade adorned with intricate celestial designs. A neon sign in the window flickered weakly, casting an eerie blue glow over the sidewalk.

"Not exactly your scene?" Finn asked as they exited the car.

"I'm a little more…scientifically-minded," Sheila said, her eyes scanning the storefront. The display window was filled with an eclectic mix of crystals, tarot cards, and astrological charts. A sense of unease settled in her stomach as they approached the entrance.

A bell chimed softly as they pushed open the heavy wooden door. The interior was scented with a heady mix of incense and herbs. Shelves lined the walls, packed with books, candles, and various mystical paraphernalia.

Behind the counter stood a woman in her fifties, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun. She wore flowing robes covered in astrological symbols, and her neck was adorned with multiple crystal pendants.

"Welcome to the Sanctuary," she said, her voice low and melodious. "How may I assist you on your spiritual journey today?"

Sheila approached the counter, subtly flashing her badge. "Good evening. I'm Deputy Stone, and this is Deputy Mercer. We'd like to ask you a few questions about a product you sell here."

The woman's serene expression faltered for a moment before she regained her composure. "Of course, Deputies. I'm Celeste, the owner. What would you like to know?"

Finn produced a photo of the seal from the killer's letter. "We're interested in this custom seal. Our sources tell us it was purchased here."

Celeste's eyes widened as she looked at the photo. "Yes, I remember this design. It's quite unique. But I'm afraid I can't disclose information about our customers without a warrant."

Sheila leaned in, her voice low and urgent. "Celeste, this is part of an ongoing murder investigation. Any information you provide could save lives."

Celeste's eyes darted nervously around. "I...I'm sorry, but I really don't know anything about who bought that seal. We have many customers, and I can't remember them all."

Sheila was about to press further when she heard a muffled noise from the back of the store. Her eyes narrowed. "Is someone else here?"

Celeste's posture stiffened, her hands fidgeting with the crystals around her neck. "Oh, that's just…someone I hired for part-time help. To organize the stockroom."

There was no mistaking the hesitation in Celeste's voice. Sheila exchanged a quick glance with Finn, seeing her own suspicion mirrored in his eyes.

"Mind if we talk to this helper?" Sheila asked, her tone making it clear it wasn't really a question.

"I...I don't think that's necessary," Celeste stammered. "He's very shy, you see, and—"

Sheila cut her off. "Celeste, I get the feeling you're not being entirely truthful with us. Who's really back there?"

Before Celeste could answer, the beaded curtain separating the main shop from the back room parted. A young man stepped out, freezing when he saw the deputies.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then Celeste's voice shattered the silence.

"Run, Jasper!" she shouted.

The young man's eyes widened in panic. Without hesitation, he turned and bolted for the door.

"Stop! Police!" Sheila yelled, already in pursuit. As she raced after the fleeing suspect, Sheila could hear Finn behind her, calling for backup.

Sheila rushed through a dark room, then shouldered open a door swinging shut behind the fleeing Jasper. She burst out onto the street, nearly colliding with a group of tourists.

"Stop!" she yelled as the suspect darted down an alley.

She followed Jasper through a maze of narrow passages between old buildings. Her heart pounded as she vaulted over a stack of crates, her eyes never leaving the fleeing figure ahead.

Jasper emerged onto a busy street, weaving through startled pedestrians. Sheila followed, her lungs burning as she pushed herself to keep up. She could no longer hear Finn behind her. Had he fallen behind or taken a different route?

As they approached a construction site, Jasper scaled a chain-link fence with surprising agility. Sheila gritted her teeth and followed, ignoring the bite of metal on her palms.

The chase continued through the half-built structure, a dangerous obstacle course of exposed beams and scattered tools. Sheila's foot caught on a coil of wire, sending her stumbling. She recovered quickly, but the momentary delay allowed Jasper to increase his lead.

Emerging from the construction site, she found herself in a small park. Jasper headed for a dense copse of trees, clearly hoping to lose his pursuers in the gathering darkness.

Sheila pushed herself harder, closing the gap. Just as Jasper reached the treeline, she made a desperate lunge, tackling him to the ground.

They rolled across the damp grass, grappling for control. Despite his initial panic, Jasper fought with unexpected strength. Sheila managed to pin him down, her voice harsh as she gasped for breath.

"Stop resisting! You're under arrest!"

Finn arrived moments later, quickly cuffing the still-struggling suspect. As they hauled him to his feet, Sheila got her first good look at his face. He was younger than she'd expected, probably in his early twenties, with wide, frightened eyes.

"Why'd you run?" she demanded.

"I'll never talk to you," he said, his face hardening. "You can't stop what's already been set in motion."

***

Sheila stood in the observation room, her eyes flicking between the two monitors showing the separate interrogation rooms. In one, Jasper sat rigid and defiant, his jaw clenched. In the other, Celeste seemed to have aged a decade since their encounter at the shop, her earlier mystical demeanor replaced by a look of weary resignation.

Sheila's stomach churned with a mix of anticipation and dread. These two might hold the key to unraveling the mystery of the Coldwater Confessor, but extracting that information wouldn't be easy. She took a deep breath, centering herself. Years of experience had taught her that interrogations were as much about patience and psychology as they were about asking the right questions.

"What do you think?" Finn asked. "You take one, I'll take the other?"

After a moment's consideration, Sheila decided to start with Jasper. His youth and bravado might make him more likely to slip up.

"I'll take Jasper," she said. "Afterward we can compare notes."

"Sounds like a deal," Finn said as he left the room.

Sheila took another deep breath, steeling herself before entering Jasper's interrogation room. The young man glared at her as she sat down across from him. "I told you, I'm not talking," he said, his voice laced with defiance.

Sheila leaned back, projecting an air of calm. "That's fine, Jasper. I'll do the talking for now." She opened a file folder, making a show of reviewing its contents. The rustling of papers filled the tense silence. "You've got quite an interesting background. Dropped out of college two years ago, started working at your aunt's shop. But before that, you were studying astrophysics. Quite a change."

A flicker of surprise crossed Jasper's face before he masked it. Sheila noticed the slight widening of his eyes, the momentary tension in his shoulders. She pressed on, her voice casual but probing.

"What made you give up on the stars, Jasper? Or did you just find a different way to pursue them?"

Jasper's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent. His fingers drummed a nervous rhythm on the table.

Sheila changed tactics, her tone softening. "You know, your aunt is in the other room right now. She seemed pretty upset. I wonder what she's telling my partner."

Jasper's composure cracked slightly. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "Aunt Celeste wouldn't say anything. She believes in the cause."

"The cause?" Sheila asked, leaning forward slightly. "You mean the 'Divine Paradigm'? The 'Eternal Convergence'? Tell me, Jasper, do you really believe in all that?"

For the first time, uncertainty flickered in Jasper's eyes. He shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping to the table. "You...you wouldn't understand. It's bigger than you can imagine."

"Then help me understand, Jasper. People are dying. If this cause is so important, so meaningful, make me see it."

For a moment, it seemed like Jasper might break. His lips parted, a conflicted look crossing his face. But then the shutters came down again. He crossed his arms and leaned back, his expression hardening. "I've got nothing more to say."

Sheila leaned forward, her voice softening. "Jasper, I know you believe in this cause. But people are dying. Innocent people. Is that really what you want?"

Jasper's eyes flickered, a hint of doubt crossing his face before it hardened again. "You don't understand. Sometimes sacrifices are necessary for the greater good."

"Greater good?" Sheila asked. "What greater good could possibly justify murder? Help me understand, Jasper. If your cause is so important, make me see it."

Jasper remained silent, his jaw clenched.

Sheila changed tactics. "Look, I get it. You're protecting someone. But think about this: If you cooperate, tell us what you know, we can work something out—reduced charges, maybe even immunity."

For a moment, Jasper seemed to consider this. His fingers twitched on the table. But then he shook his head. "I'm not a snitch."

Frustration building, Sheila tried one last approach. "Let's talk about the stars, Jasper. You studied astrophysics, right? What drew you to that field?"

For the first time, a spark of interest lit Jasper's eyes. "The vastness of it all," he said softly. "The patterns, the cosmic dance of celestial bodies..."

"And how does that relate to this new belief system of yours?" Sheila asked.

Jasper's expression closed off again. "Nice try," he muttered. "But I'm done talking."

Realizing this was going nowhere, Sheila stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "Think about what I said, Jasper. This is your chance to do the right thing."

She left the room, the door closing behind her with a soft click. In the hallway, she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment. Jasper's unwavering belief in this 'cause' was troubling. It spoke to a level of indoctrination that wouldn't be easily broken.

Could the killer have a group of adherents, all of them subscribing to the same deluded beliefs the killer used to justify murder? The very possibility caused Sheila to shudder.

The door to Celeste's interrogation room opened, and Finn stepped out, looking clear-eyed and thoughtful.

"Well, I've softened her up for you," he said. "I think all she needs now is a woman's touch. Should I talk to the kid?"

Sheila shook her head. "Give him some time."

As she entered Celeste's interrogation room, she noticed the older woman's hands trembling slightly. Celeste's eyes were red-rimmed, her earlier composure completely shattered.

"Mrs. Moon," Sheila began gently, taking a seat across from her. "We're not here to cause trouble for you or your nephew. We just want to understand what's going on. People have died, and we need to prevent more deaths. Can you help us with that?"

Celeste's eyes welled with tears. "I...I never wanted anyone to get hurt," she whispered, her voice cracking. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Sheila leaned forward, sensing a breakthrough. She kept her voice soft, sympathetic. "Tell me about the man who came to your shop, Celeste. The one who bought the custom seal."

Celeste hesitated, glancing toward the door as if expecting Jasper to burst in and stop her. Her fingers twisted the hem of her flowing shirt, now wrinkled and stained with tears. Finally, she began to speak, her words coming out in a rush.

"He came to the shop about six months ago, talking about the stars and divine judgment. At first, I thought he was just another New Age enthusiast. We get a lot of those, you know. But there was something...compelling about him. He spoke with such conviction, such certainty. It was like he could see things the rest of us couldn't."

"What did he look like?" Sheila asked, her pen poised over her notepad.

Celeste's brow furrowed in concentration. "He was...average. Medium height, medium build. Long, shaggy brown hair."

"Did he have a small scar just above his right eyebrow, by any chance?" Sheila asked, recalling Francine Albright's description.

Celeste frowned. "I don't think so."

"Did he look like he was wearing makeup?"

"Not that I recall."

Sheila took a long breath, calming herself. By the sound of it, this was not the same man Francine Albright had seen. Francine had described the priest as having hair that was gray and 'very neat,' not long, shaggy, and brown.

"He talked about the stars a lot," Celeste continued. "Said they held the key to understanding God's plan. Jasper was fascinated. I think...I think that's why he dropped out of school. To devote himself to this new...philosophy, I guess you'd call it."

"And what about you? Did you buy into this philosophy, too?"

Celeste licked her lips. "I…it seemed harmless enough, you know? And for the first time ever, it seemed like Jasper had a direction, a plan."

"Mrs. Moon, there's a good chance that the person you and your son spoke with was the Coldwater Confessor."

Celeste went pale. "I had no idea he was going to kill anyone," she said. "I thought it was all symbolic, spiritual—otherwise I never would've sold that seal to him."

"I know this may be difficult to answer, but it's important that you're completely truthful with me, for your son's sake as well as yours. Is it possible this man could've recruited Jasper?"

Celeste stared at Sheila in stunned silence for several seconds. "Are you asking whether Jasper could've had anything to do with the murders?"

Sheila waited, saying nothing.

"Absolutely not!" Celeste said. "Jasper may have gotten caught up in some strange ideas, but he's not a violent person. He wouldn't hurt anyone, no matter what philosophy he believes in."

Sheila nodded, her expression neutral. "I appreciate your conviction, Mrs. Moon. Can you tell me where you and Jasper were this morning?"

"We were at the shop, of course," Celeste replied, her voice steadier now. "We're always there during business hours. You can check the camera footage if you don't believe me."

Sheila raised an eyebrow. "You have camera footage?"

Celeste nodded. "Yes, we installed security cameras last year. I can access the feed on my phone if you'd like to see it."

"That would be helpful," Sheila said. "Let me get your phone for you."

A few minutes later, Celeste was swiping through the footage on her phone. Sheila watched intently, her eyes scanning for any sign of suspicious activity. The footage showed Celeste and Jasper going about their day, arranging displays and helping the occasional customer.

"Wait," Sheila said suddenly. "How far back does this footage go?"

"Not six months, if that's what you're looking for. It erases anything more than a month old."

Sheila's heart sank. So much for getting a look at the killer.

"What was your conversation like with the man who bought the seal?" she asked.

Celeste shrugged. "It was brief. He came in, asked about custom seals, and placed his order. He didn't engage in much small talk."

"Did he give a name?"

"John Smith," Celeste said with a wry smile. "Obviously fake, but it's not uncommon in our line of work. People value their privacy when it comes to spiritual matters."

"And he paid in cash?"

Celeste nodded. "Yes, that's also quite common."

"Have you heard from him since?" Sheila asked.

"No, not at all. He picked up the seal a week later, and that was the last I saw of him."

Sheila paused, considering her next question carefully. "Mrs. Moon, is there any possibility that Jasper has been in contact with this man without your knowledge?"

Celeste's eyes widened. "No, absolutely not. Jasper and I are very close. We work together every day, and he lives in the apartment above the shop. If he was meeting with someone or communicating regularly, I would know."

There was still one thing, however, that bothered Sheila. "If you and Jasper had nothing to do with the murders," she said, "then why did you tell Jasper to run?"

Celeste swallowed hard. "When you two came into the store and started asking questions, I figured this probably had to do with the Coldwater Confessor case. And since you were asking about the man who bought that seal…well, I guess I worried Jasper may have said or done something that would put him under suspicion—even a careless social media post these days can be damning."

"Why would Jasper post something potentially damning?"

Celeste sighed. "He means well, and he would never harm anyone…but not everyone knows that. Ever since the Patriot Act, there's no telling what might get you in trouble. He's dabbled in Communism, written posts about depopulating the earth...I guess I just thought there might be something worse that I didn't know about. I panicked."

Sheila studied the other woman in silence as she took this in.

"Please, Deputy Stone," Celeste said. "If anyone's in the wrong, it's me. I shouldn't have told him to run. Don't blame him for crimes he had nothing to do with."

Sheila nodded slowly and rose. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Moon. We may have more questions later, but for now, I think we're done here."

Finn was waiting for her out in the hallway. "How'd it go?" he asked.

She sighed. "I was able to establish an alibi for the both of them this morning. Not sure whether that's good or bad news. Also, we need to look into Jasper's background—any suspicious social media posts, anything that might indicate motive for the murders."

"Already taken care of."

Sheila frowned, surprised. "What are you talking about?"

"Got him to show me those posts himself—tactless, yes, but not proof of anything. He didn't know any of the victims, didn't post anything about them specifically. Everything was vague, generic—wannabe bullshit."

"How'd you get him to reveal that to you?"

He shrugged. "Told him his silence would do his aunt a lot of harm. Leaned into that angle pretty hard, and he eventually caved."

"Well done," Sheila said.

Finn stretched his arms. "Were you able to get a description of the man who bought the seal?"

"Sort of. She said he had long, shaggy brown hair."

"That doesn't sound like the priest Francine met. Think one of them misremembered?"

"Maybe," Sheila murmured. "Or maybe they're both right."

"How could a man have long hair and short hair, unless—" He stopped, then smiled. "Huh. You think he wears a disguise? That would explain why Francine said he was wearing a lot of makeup."

Sheila nodded, her excitement growing the more she pondered this potential new lead. "And if he is wearing disguises, then he's got to get his materials somewhere."

"Sounds like it's time for you and me to check out some costume stores."