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As Jake turned off the cruiser engine, Jenna contemplated the peculiar world they were about to enter.

The shop stood out among the more practical establishments on the street—a Victorian-style building painted in deep purple with gold trim, its windows crowded with crystals.

A hand-painted sign declared “Avebury Visions: Where Spirit Meets Earth.”

“Ever stepped foot in a place like this before?” Jake asked.

“Not in an official capacity. My friend Cassie dragged me into a similar one back in college. She was convinced her boyfriend had been stepping out on her and wanted to buy some kind of ‘fidelity spell.’“

Jake’s eyebrows shot up as he turned to look at Jenna. “Did it work?”

“As it happened, the boyfriend was just part of a study group with another girl from his class,” Jenna revealed, reaching for her notepad on the dashboard. “The spell set us back twenty bucks though.” She opened the car door. “Let’s see what insights Ms. Wells can offer on our current case.”

They crossed the street together, their uniforms catching the glow from the store’s exterior lights. Dreamcatchers of various sizes hung in the window and wind chimes hanging from the awning created a delicate melody that seemed at odds with the serious nature of their visit.

A bell chimed overhead as they pushed open the door. The scent hit them immediately—a potent mixture of incense, herbs, and something earthy and primal. The air felt thick, almost viscous in the dimly lit space.

Jake coughed discreetly. “Smells like my aunt Meredith’s house after she discovered patchouli.”

Jenna’s eyes adjusted to the lighting—mostly provided by salt lamps and strategically placed candles.

The store was larger than it appeared from outside, stretching back into what seemed like a labyrinth of shelves and display cases.

Crystals of every color gleamed from black velvet trays.

Tarot decks in ornate boxes were arranged by theme.

Walls were covered in tapestries depicting celestial bodies and ancient symbols.

“Can I help you find something specific?” The voice came from behind a beaded curtain at the back of the store. “We just received a new shipment of selenite wands that are quite powerful for clearing negative energy.”

Jenna understood how this woman had once captivated radio listeners with just her voice. When she emerged from behind the curtain, there was something magnetic about her presence, even now, decades later.

Diana Wells was tall and willowy, draped in a flowing kaftan of blues and purples that shifted like water with each movement.

Her silver hair fell past her shoulders in a straight cascade, interwoven with small feathers and glass beads that caught the light.

Every finger bore at least one ring—some simple bands, others elaborate settings with stones the size of small pebbles.

Multiple pendants hung around her neck, layered like geological strata.

Her striking green eyes seemed to look not at them but through them. They narrowed slightly as she registered their uniforms.

“Oh,” she said, her voice cooling by several degrees. “Law enforcement. How... unexpected.”

Jenna stepped forward, offering her professional smile. “Ms. Wells? I’m Sheriff Jenna Graves from Genesius County, and this is Deputy Jake Hawkins. We were hoping you might have a few minutes to talk.”

Diana’s fingers fluttered to one of her pendants—a piece of rough green stone wrapped in copper wire—and began turning it absently. “I haven’t broken any ordinances that I’m aware of. My business license and permits are current.”

“We’re not here about your business practices,” Jake assured her. “We’re investigating two recent murders.”

A flicker of something passed across Diana’s face—too quick to identify. She called out to a female employee.

“Janet, take over the cash register for a while,” she said. “I need to talk to these people.”

As the employee moved to her new post, Diana turned abruptly and moved to a display case of tumbled stones, rearranging them with deliberate care. Jenna watched the woman’s movements—the slight tensing of her shoulders, the way she kept her back to them. Classic avoidance behavior.

“There has been an estate sale going on for the late Howard Mitchell,” Jenna said, moving slowly around a table of incense holders to maintain line of sight with Diana.

“His daughter is selling off his vast collection of audio equipment. We were wondering if you purchased any items from his collection.”

Diana laughed, a sound like distant wind chimes. “Me? No. I’m more interested in natural objects than man-made ones. Crystals, woods, things shaped by earth energies rather than human hands.” She gestured around the store. “As you can see.”

Jake jotted something in his notebook. Jenna noted how Diana’s eyes tracked the movement of his pen.

“Ms. Wells,” Jenna continued, keeping her tone conversational, “have you received any unusual messages lately? Anything threatening? Perhaps emails or social media contacts that concerned you?”

Diana’s hands stilled on the crystals. The air in the shop seemed to thicken further, the incense smoke hanging in undisturbed curls.

“Why would you ask me that?” Her voice had dropped an octave.

“It’s a standard question in our investigation,” Jake offered.

“But why me specifically?” Diana turned to face them fully, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement caused her many bracelets to jingle softly. “What makes you think I’d be a target?”

Jenna chose her next words carefully. “You’re a well-known figure in Pinecrest. You have a public presence. Sometimes that can attract unwanted attention.”

Diana’s lips pressed into a thin line. She moved behind the counter, putting a physical barrier between herself and the officers.

“There was an email,” she finally said. “Last week. I almost deleted it as spam, but...” She reached beneath the counter and withdrew a folder, sliding out a printed page. “I printed it. Old habits from before digital backups were reliable.”

Jenna accepted the paper, holding it so Jake could read it simultaneously.

The email was addressed to Diana’s business account. The sender’s address was obscured by a series of numbers and random characters, clearly a temporary account. The message itself was brief but disturbing:

“Your corruption of the astral plane ends soon. The frequencies you manipulate have consequences. Dawn approaches, and not all survive the light.”

“It’s anonymous, but I know who it’s from,” Diana said before they could ask. “Tyrone Voss sent it. He runs something called Firmament Reach—part cult, part self-help seminar. He charges people thousands of dollars to ‘ascend to their higher selves’ or some such nonsense.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “And you two have history?”

Diana snorted. “If by ‘history’ you mean he’s been trying to discredit me for years, then yes. We met at the Midwest Metaphysical Conference in 2013. I was a featured speaker on intuitive sound healing. He was just starting out, selling cheap meditation CDs recorded in his basement.”

She began pacing behind the counter, her kaftan billowing slightly with each turn.

“He claimed I stole his techniques, which is absurd. I’ve been working with sound and energy for decades. Before he was even born, I was...” She stopped abruptly, glancing at them with sudden wariness.

“Before he was born, you were...?” Jenna prompted gently.

Diana waved a hand dismissively. “Just working in related fields. The point is, he’s always been jealous of my client base, my reputation. This is just his latest attempt to frighten me.”

Jenna squinted hard at Diana before asking her next question.

“Ms. Wells, is Tyrone Voss aware of your history as the ‘Midnight voice’?”

The change in Diana was immediate and alarming. Her eyes widened, darting around the room as if searching for hidden recording devices. She took several steps backward until she bumped against the wall of merchandise behind her, causing a small avalanche of precariously balanced dream journals.

“Who told you anything about the Midnight voice?” she demanded, her voice high and thin. “That information isn’t public. That was—that was a different life. How do you know about Midnight Voice?”

Jake raised both hands in a placating gesture. “Ms. Wells, we’re just trying to establish if there might be a connection between this threat and your past work.”

Diana’s breathing had become rapid and shallow. “No one knows. No one except—” She suddenly focused on Jenna with laser intensity. “Who are you really? Who sent you? Is it them? After all these years?”

Jenna took a cautious step forward. “No one sent us, Ms. Wells. We’re investigating a potential crime, that’s all.”

“Lies!” Diana’s voice rose sharply. “They always find a way. The government never really stops listening, you know. They monitor the frequencies. They knew what we were discovering back then—how sound can pierce the veil between dimensions. How certain frequencies can alter consciousness, can open doorways...”

She reached beneath the counter again, this time extracting a clear quartz crystal the size of a fist. She clutched it before her like a weapon.

“I can see your energies,” she continued, her voice trembling. “You’re not what you appear to be. Especially you.” She pointed the crystal at Jenna. “Your aura is... fractured. Split. You’re connected to the other side, aren’t you? They sent you to infiltrate, to find out what I know.”

Jenna felt a cold trickle down her spine. Diana couldn’t possibly know about her dreams, about her ability to communicate with the dead. It was coincidence, the ramblings of a paranoid mind, but still...

“Ms. Wells,” Jake said firmly, “we’re here to help. If you’re receiving threats, we can provide protection. We can have officers patrol this area more frequently, check in with you—”

“I don’t need your protection!” Diana almost shouted the words. “I have my own protection. I have a guardian spirit.”

“Who might that be?” Jenna asked.

Diana’s expression became secretive, almost sly. “Wouldn’t you like to know? He understands the vibrations. He knows the truth about the astral plane, about what’s really happening in Pinecrest.”

She began moving around the counter, herding them toward the door with surprising determination for someone who moments ago had seemed frightened.

“I think you should leave now,” she said, her voice suddenly calm again, though her eyes remained wild. “I have nothing more to tell you about any of this, and I certainly don’t need your interference with Tyrone Voss. That’s my battle to fight on the spiritual plane.”

“Ms. Wells, please,” Jenna tried once more. “This could be serious. If someone is threatening you—”

“OUT!” Diana flung her arm toward the door, the crystal in her hand catching the light and sending prismatic reflections across the walls. “The energy in my space is corrupted now. I’ll have to cleanse for hours. OUT!”

Speaking calmly and quietly, Jenna said, “We’re only concerned about your safety. We’re going to post some officers outside to watch out for you until we solve this case. Don’t worry, they won’t do you any harm.”

The door chimed merrily as they found themselves back on the sidewalk, the sound incongruously cheerful after the intensity of the encounter.

Through the window, they could see Diana frantically lighting additional incense, moving around the shop in what appeared to be some kind of cleansing ritual.

Jake let out a long breath. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

Jenna nodded, still disturbed by Diana’s comment about her aura. “She’s genuinely frightened of something. Whether it’s Tyrone Voss or some other perceived threat, I’m not sure.”

“That comment about a guardian? Security system? Guardian angel?” Jake suggested.

“Whatever it is, she trusts it more than law enforcement.” Jenna pulled out her phone. “We should update Colonel Spelling and Chief Morgan. And we need to get some officers watching over this place, despite her objections.”

Jake nodded in agreement. “You think this Tyrone Voss is worth looking into?”

“Absolutely,” Jenna said, dialing Colonel Spelling’s number. “If he’s the one who sent that message, he needs a conversation with law enforcement, at minimum.”

The call connected quickly. Jenna gave Spelling a concise summary of their strange encounter, emphasizing Diana’s paranoia and the threatening email from the anonymous sender who might be Tyrone Voss.

“We’re going to need someone watching her store,” Jenna concluded. “She refused protection, but I’m concerned she might be in danger—either from this Voss character or from her own mental state.”

“I’ll coordinate with Chief Morgan,” Spelling replied. “We can have plainclothes officers observe from a distance without alarming her further.”

After ending the call, Jenna turned to Jake. “Ready to pay a visit to Firmament Reach?”

“Nothing I’d like more than to meet a self-proclaimed spiritual guru who sends threatening emails,” Jake said dryly. “That is, if he really is the one who sent it. Think he’ll read our auras too?”

Jenna smiled despite herself as they walked back to the patrol car. “Let’s hope not. According to Diana, mine is ‘fractured.’“

She tried to make the comment sound like a joke, but Jake’s expression turned serious.

“She couldn’t know,” he said quietly. “It’s just part of her whole mystical persona.”

“Of course,” Jenna agreed, yet she couldn’t quite shake the lingering unease. “Either way, we now have two persons of interest—Ray Tucker and Tyrone Voss. Let’s see if we can connect either of them to our victims before there’s another death.”