The precinct hummed with late-night activity—the clatter of keyboards, muffled phone conversations, the squeak of cheap shoes on linoleum. I sat with my back straight against the hard plastic chair, my hands folded in my lap to hide their trembling. Across the room, Jason occupied a similar chair, his leg bouncing with the nervous energy of a man who hadn’t had his fix in too many hours. The fluorescent lights cast everyone in the same sickly pallor, making us all look equally guilty.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkCDbW6ZKEs
The booking process had been efficient and impersonal. Fingerprints pressed onto cards and scanner. Photographs taken from multiple angles. Basic questions answered in monosyllables. The red leather book remained miraculously undiscovered during the cursory search, a testament to either Jason’s luck or the officers’ inattention.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡebCBQTugAh
When I closed my eyes, I could feel Mister B.’s presence—not visible in this crowded space, but hovering at the edges of my awareness like a half-forgotten melody.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzPCXcSKpGa
Officer Johnson emerged from an adjacent office, a manila folder tucked under his arm. His face was a map of New York—all hard angles and weathered surfaces, with eyes that had seen too much to be shocked by anything. He gestured to me.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq9NIuau7lU
“Ms. Vega. This way.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlnO69n1jDr
I rose, feeling the eyes of other officers tracking my movement. Johnson had seen me before, when I stumbled across a missing person case which I was able to solve.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuydguKV4lM
He led me into a small interview room—bare walls painted institutional beige, a metal table bolted to the floor, two chairs facing each other like combatants. Standard interrogation setup, designed to make occupants feel exposed and trapped.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH16Vicei4B
“Sit,” Johnson instructed, closing the door behind us with a decisive click.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC9Jtjv7u6a
I complied, maintaining eye contact. Power dynamics were important in these situations, and I refused to play the role of cowed suspect.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWfBGhnriHP
Johnson settled into the chair opposite me, opening the folder with deliberate slowness. A calculated move meant to increase anxiety, to make me fill the silence with nervous chatter or confessions. I’d seen the technique before, and I kept my breathing even, my face neutral.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ12yggsaCz2
“Breaking and entering,” he began, voice level as a pond on a windless day. “Potential burglary. Trespassing. Criminal trespass. That’s a solid list of charges, Ms. Vega.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGBaKdrmXHu
“We weren’t stealing anything,” I replied, keeping my tone even.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaIXnDv538t
“No?” Johnson’s eyebrow rose like a drawbridge. “Just taking a midnight tour of one of the most valuable properties on West 70th Street?” His skepticism hung in the air between us. “Try again.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRnpIY7CXvh
I considered my options, weighing what to reveal and what to withhold. The complete truth would sound delusional, even to a man who had seen evidence of my abilities. But a partial truth might work.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ63pxBzvBKL
“I’m investigating Seamus Green’s death,” I said finally.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhmmBOAnePx
Something flickered in Johnson’s eyes, brief as a camera flash. “Natural causes. Man was 102.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLfRhJ8UWwc
“His grandson believes otherwise.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZJxHZKwfV7
“Ah.” Johnson leaned back slightly, the chair creaking beneath his weight. “The junkie with inheritance problems. That explains your companion.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW6LpMTPXUp
The characterization stung, not for my sake but for Jason’s. “Jason has concerns about the circumstances,” I corrected, keeping my voice neutral. “I was hired to look into them.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkxE0RqOVtI
“As what, exactly? A private investigator?” Johnson’s tone sharpened, the edge of official warning in it. “Because you’re not licensed as one, Ms. Vega. Last I heard, you read tarot cards in a shop that closed down.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmpZpU3xmWO
The jab found its mark, but I maintained my composure. The shop’s closure was still a fresh wound—my sanctuary of silk scarves and incense swept away by rising rents and changing neighborhoods.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcsjOcz18tU
“I’m a consultant. With relevant experience.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs9RFsXh7mQ
“Psychic experience,” Johnson said flatly, the word carrying layers of skepticism despite our previous collaboration.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZb9ZtoO1kq
“Call it what you want,” I replied. “But I’ve provided useful information before.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuBZacC5H9x
“To the Stevens case, yes.” Johnson shuffled papers in the folder, not meeting my eyes. “A lucky guess.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ61LXD1JMmJ
“It wasn’t a guess.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp9vN0NRvaM
Johnson looked up, studying me for a long moment. His expression remained professionally detached, but something lurked beneath it—uncertainty, perhaps. Or reluctant curiosity.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaJl98WXw9n
“So what exactly were you looking for in Seamus Green’s house tonight?” he asked finally.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfqlTBBfdba
“Contact information,” I answered truthfully. “For someone who might have insights into Seamus’s final days.”
“And breaking in was your preferred method of obtaining this?”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSfvAleg28L
“We had limited options.” I didn’t elaborate on the fact that Aurelia Green had systematically removed her father’s longtime staff and replaced them with people loyal to her—people who would never speak to Jason or anyone working with him.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOK2eq91Ls1
Johnson sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. The gesture briefly stripped away the professional facade, revealing the tired man beneath the badge.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUxGS17lfaj
“Ms. Vega, I’m trying to understand what’s happening here. A few weeks ago, you walked into this very precinct with information about a missing person—information that proved accurate. Information you claimed came from… unconventional sources.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXCRz6QNZiu
I remained silent, letting him work through his thoughts. This was the moment of truth—Johnson wrestling with his training and his experience, with what he believed possible and what he’d seen with his own eyes.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjDjCaIUFcp
“Now you’re breaking into mansions with drug-addicted trust fund kids, claiming to investigate a death that every medical professional has confirmed was natural.” Johnson leaned forward, his voice lowering. “Help me understand why I shouldn’t process these charges.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKtUFtB7ULP
“Because something is wrong with Seamus Green’s death,” I said quietly. “Something that won’t show up in a standard autopsy.”
“Such as?”
I weighed my next words carefully. “Influence. Manipulation. Possibly involving his daughter Aurelia.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTMsS7cfH08
Johnson’s brow furrowed, deep lines cutting across his forehead. “You’re suggesting what, exactly? That Aurelia Green somehow… harmed her father? A man under constant medical supervision in his final years?”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrzwrFjNDKy
“Not all harm leaves physical evidence,” I replied.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9lYaAQul4g
I didn’t mention what I’d seen in the security footage—Aurelia kneeling in the living room when her father was asleep upstairs, drawing symbols on the floor, slaughtering chicken to spill their blood over human skulls.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWlM0NLHRTL
Johnson stared at me, expression unreadable. Then he closed the folder deliberately, setting it aside with a finality that made my stomach clench.
“That’s quite an accusation, Ms. Vega. Against a prominent Manhattan socialite.”
“It’s why we needed the contact information,” I explained. “To speak with someone who was advising Seamus in his final months.”
Johnson studied me for several more seconds, then stood abruptly. “Wait here.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgxF0QqKmjn
He left the interview room, the door closing with a decisive click. I exhaled slowly, aware that our fate—and possibly Seamus’s justice—hung in the balance of whatever decision Johnson was making now.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbbYIp9Qybd
In the silence of the interview room, Mister B. materialized beside me, his form translucent under the harsh lighting. He wore the same outdated suit he always appeared in, his expression perpetually caught between amusement and concern.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDFxPkl1pRg
“He’s conflicted,” the spirit guide observed. “Part of him wants to believe you.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPP6Yo9J7FF
“And the other part?” I murmured, knowing no recording device would capture my words or his presence.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp5er8cF4Al
“The other part is a practical policeman who sees a clear case of breaking and entering,” Mister B. replied. “But he remembers the Stevens case.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMYKgGG92RX
“Will that be enough?” I asked.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbsv0MCLnYL
Before Mister B. could respond, the door reopened, and Johnson returned. The spirit guide vanished like smoke in wind. Johnson’s expression remained professionally neutral, but there was a slight shift in his posture—a decision made.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Ms. Vega,” he said, remaining standing. “You and Mr. Green are going to walk out of here. No charges filed—this time.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKRVlgxP8oL
I kept my expression carefully neutral, hiding my surprise and relief.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF4oYyF5xWB
“The Green family has declined to press charges,” Johnson continued. “Apparently, Mr. Green convinced someone—his aunt, I presume—that he was simply visiting his grandfather’s home and brought you along. A misunderstanding about the alarm system.”
I doubted that was the real story, but I wasn’t about to question our good fortune. “Thank you, Officer Johnson.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUYS2TZS1P0
“Don’t thank me,” he replied curtly. “This is about a grieving family choosing not to press charges against one of their own, however troubled he might be.” He fixed me with a pointed look. “And it’s about me not wanting paperwork for what’s clearly a waste of the department’s time.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY8ijJhtBN2
But there was something in his eyes—a hint of something beyond his official explanation. A flicker of uncertainty, perhaps. Or recognition of a truth he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTo11TZPeks
“Now get out of my precinct,” Johnson said, holding the door open. “And Ms. Vega? Next time you have… insights about a case, try calling first instead of breaking and entering.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡacNOM498Vv
As I stood to leave, Johnson added in a lower voice, “And if you do find something concrete about Seamus Green’s death—something that would stand up in court—my door is open.”59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGqWcbVQG15
The statement was delivered with professional detachment, but the message was clear: Johnson might doubt my methods, might struggle with the concept of psychic abilities, but he wasn’t dismissing my concerns entirely.59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvXEUzMOvYQ
It wasn’t much, I reflected as I followed him back to the processing area where Jason waited. But it was something. A tiny crack in the armor of conventional thinking—exactly what we’d need if we were ever to prove that Aurelia Green had murdered her father through means no court would ever recognize.
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Thank you for reading! If you enjoy this story, there are full volumes available for download on www.empowering-spirit.com/the-tarot-dimes
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