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Twilight cast long shadows across the Firmament Reach building as Jake pulled the cruiser into a vacant spot.

The modern structure with its large windows glowed against the deepening violet sky.

Jenna studied the clean lines and understated signage—the words “Firmament Reach” in a simple, elegant font above the entrance.

“Doesn’t look like the cultish lair Diana made it sound like,” she commented.

“Let’s see if the inside matches,” Jake said as he cut the engine.

The glass doors slid open soundlessly as they approached the entrance, revealing a reception area decorated in varying shades of blue and gray.

Subtle recessed lighting cast a soft glow over comfortable-looking furniture arranged in conversational groupings.

A small water feature trickled gently in one corner, its sound barely perceptible.

A woman looked up from behind a curved reception desk, her smile immediate and genuine. “Good evening,” she said, standing to greet them. “Welcome to Firmament Reach. How can I help you?”

Jenna stepped forward, “Sheriff Graves and Deputy Hawkins from Genesius County. We’re here to speak with Tyrone Voss.”

The receptionist’s smile didn’t falter at the sight of law enforcement.

“Of course, Sheriff. Tyrone is just finishing up a mindfulness workshop. It should be wrapping up in the next five minutes or so.” She gestured toward a hallway to their right.

“You’re welcome to observe the final moments if you’d like.

He always ends with a beautiful closing exercise. ”

“Thank you,” Jenna said, surprised at the offer.

The receptionist nodded. “Room 103, just down that hall. You can enter quietly. No one will mind.”

As they moved down the hallway, Jake leaned close. “Friendly place.”

“Maybe a little too friendly?” Jenna whispered back.

They reached Room 103, and Jenna carefully opened the door just enough for them to slip inside. The room was dimly lit, but not dark. About twenty participants sat in a circle on cushioned mats, their attention directed toward a man standing in the center.

Tyrone Voss was speaking, “And as you return to full awareness, bring with you that sense of calm you reached in your meditation. Let it anchor you throughout your evening and into tomorrow.”

Jenna studied him carefully. He appeared to be in his late thirties, and his hair was cut in a simple, neat style.

He wore a light blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and khaki pants—clothes that would blend in at any casual business meeting.

Nothing about him suggested the flamboyant charlatan Diana had described.

In fact, the process the group was using seemed to her like a simple meditation exercise, not the “part cult, part self-help seminar” Diana had called “nonsense.”

“Now, gently open your eyes and reconnect with the room,” he instructed the group.

As the participants blinked and stirred, soft murmurs of appreciation filled the space. Tyrone acknowledged each person with a small nod or smile.

“Thank you all for your presence tonight,” he said. “I look forward to seeing you next week.”

The group began to gather their belongings, and several approached Tyrone with questions or comments.

Jenna watched how he interacted with each person.

One older woman with silver hair pulled into a bun gripped his hands tightly.

“My grandson is responding so well to those breathing techniques you showed me,” she told him, her voice thick with emotion.

“His anxiety attacks have decreased by half this month.”

Tyrone’s face lit up with genuine pleasure. “That’s wonderful news, Martha. Remember, consistency is key. And make sure he knows it’s his own mind doing the healing—you and I are just showing him the tools.”

The woman nodded eagerly, then moved away, making room for others. After several minutes, the room had cleared except for the leader, who finally turned his attention to Jenna and Jake.

Approaching them with an extended hand, he said, “Tyrone Voss. I didn’t realize I had official visitors this evening.”

Jenna shook his hand. “Genesius County Sheriff Jenna Graves, and this is Deputy Jake Hawkins. Thank you for seeing us without notice.”

“Of course,” Tyrone gestured toward a small seating area in the corner of the room. “Would you like to sit? Or we can go to my office if you prefer more privacy.”

“This is fine,” Jenna said, moving toward the offered chairs.

Once seated, Tyrone leaned forward slightly, his hands relaxed on his knees. “So you’re from our neighboring county. How can I help?”

Jenna studied his face, searching for any hint of defensiveness. “We’re investigating two homicides that occurred in Pinecrest over the past few days. Marcus Derrick three nights ago, and Sandra Reeves last night. We’re speaking with individuals who might have information.”

At the mention of murders, Tyrone’s brow furrowed, and genuine concern crossed his features. “That’s terrible. I hadn’t heard. Pinecrest is usually such a peaceful community.”

“Where were you three nights ago, Mr. Voss?” Jake asked, his tone professional but not accusatory.

Instead of the expected defensiveness, Tyrone nodded thoughtfully.

“Three nights ago would have been Tuesday. I was here until about nine, leading an evening workshop on stress management. After that, I drove to Columbia for a late dinner with Dr. Elaine Morris from the psychology department at Mizzou. We’re collaborating on a research project about mindfulness techniques in addiction recovery.

We were at Barley’s Pub until around eleven, then I drove back to Pinecrest and arrived home shortly after midnight. ”

Jenna noted the specificity of his response—details that could be verified. “And last night?”

“Last night I was home grading papers—I teach a night class at Ozark State on Thursdays. I arrived home around nine-thirty and was on a video call with my sister in Portland from ten until about eleven fifteen. After that, I read for a while and went to bed.”

“Do you have security cameras here at Firmament Reach?” Jake asked.

“Yes, several,” Tyrone replied without hesitation. “Both inside and outside the building. You’re welcome to review the footage from Tuesday evening to confirm my departure time. I can also provide Dr. Morris’s contact information, and my sister would be happy to verify our call.”

“Did you know either of the victims?” Jenna asked, watching his reaction carefully.

Tyrone’s expression showed genuine puzzlement. “Derrick’s name is new to me. I’ve never actually met Sandra Reeves. What can you tell me about them?”

Marcus Derrick was a recluse who lived outside town. Former tech developer turned ham radio enthusiast,” Jenna explained, noting no flicker of recognition in Tyrone’s eyes. “Sandra Reeves owned Melody Forge Studios in Pinecrest.”

At this, Tyrone’s face brightened slightly. “That’s right. I’ve seen the building, but I’ve never met Ms. Reeves personally. I’ve been meaning to reach out to her about possibly recording some guided meditations, but I hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“We also spoke with Diana Wells at Avebury Visions,” Jenna said, deliberately introducing the name to gauge his reaction.

Something shifted in Tyrone’s expression—not anger or resentment, but something that looked remarkably like compassion.

“How is Diana?” he asked. “I haven’t spoken with her in some time.”

“She mentioned your history,” Jake said, his tone neutral.

Tyrone sighed, a small smile touching his lips. “I imagine she did. Diana and I have different approaches to helping people. She believes I hold a grudge against her for adapting some of my techniques, but the truth is, I believe that healing practices should be shared, not hoarded.”

Jenna leaned forward slightly. “She showed us a threatening email she received. She believes you sent it.”

For the first time, Tyrone’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. “A threatening email? No, I would never do something like that. May I ask what it said?”

“It accused her of corrupting the astral plane and manipulating frequencies,” Jenna explained, watching him closely. “It ended with what certainly seemed like a veiled threat.”

Tyrone shook his head slowly. “That wasn’t from me. I know Diana has had conflicts with others in our field over the years. I suppose that email could have come from any of a number of sources.”

He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Diana has... struggled with paranoia for as long as I’ve known her.

I’ve tried to reach out several times over the years, but she interprets even friendly gestures as attempts to undermine her.

Diana has incredible intuitive gifts, but the same sensitivity that makes her perceptive also makes her vulnerable to fears and suspicions. ”

He clasped his hands together. “I hope you’ll find whoever sent that email. Diana deserves to feel safe.”

The sharp ring of Jenna’s phone cut through the room. She pulled it from her pocket, noting Chief Morgan’s number on the screen.

“Excuse me,” she said, getting up and stepping a few paces away to answer. “Graves.”

“Sheriff, it’s Morgan,” the Chief’s voice came through, tight with urgency. “Diana Wells has gone missing. Somehow, she slipped away from the officers who were watching out for her. Spelling and I are headed to her store right now.”

“We’ll be right there,” Jenna said, ending the call and turning back to Jake and Tyrone. “We need to go. There’s a situation with Diana Wells.”

Jake was on his feet immediately, reading the urgency in her tone.

Tyrone stood as well, concerned about his features. “Is Diana alright?”

“She’s missing,” Jenna said, watching his reaction carefully.

A genuine alarm flashed across his face. “Oh no. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“We may have more questions for you,” Jenna said, already moving toward the door.

“I’ll be available anytime,” Tyrone assured them. “My cell is always on.”

Outside in the parking lot, the darkness had deepened. “What do you think?” Jake asked quietly.

Jenna paused with her hand on the driver’s door. “He’s either exactly what he appears to be—”

“Or the best actor we’ve ever interviewed,” Jake finished.

“Either way, Diana’s disappearance changes things. I’ll call Spelling and let him know we’re on our way to Avebury Visions.”

Jake slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine.

As they pulled away from Firmament Reach, Jenna couldn’t shake the feeling that they were racing against time.

If Diana had fled, driven by paranoia, she might have placed herself in danger.

But if she had been targeted by the same killer who took Marcus and Sandra, her chances were already dwindling.