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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEyGER7ntw3
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS3hLjM3Bii
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRa0iazfWia
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRtaRS5OzPG
“Ms. Vega. This way.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3mWMjjZqnm
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2SUNUO5jiP
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCS8hNHZd8r
“Sit,” Johnson instructed, closing the door behind us with a decisive click.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFrx9ZP92HS
I complied, maintaining eye contact. Power dynamics were important in these situations, and I refused to play the role of cowed suspect.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqxpbJzcnTe
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlvutROdSHp
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtcuVGTqIsD
“We weren’t stealing anything,” I replied, keeping my tone even.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2pZjIEBtdD
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA6UHCdRkEo
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsdh8NyOUP3
“I’m investigating Seamus Green’s death,” I said finally.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcHLUIWDZOY
Something flickered in Johnson’s eyes, brief as a camera flash. “Natural causes. Man was 102.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLFHEzx3QXt
“His grandson believes otherwise.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGFTf8HJ8vM
“Ah.” Johnson leaned back slightly, the chair creaking beneath his weight. “The junkie with inheritance problems. That explains your companion.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYCHVSuoQ4d
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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0heE6cN3Qh
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡliubZrVPVn
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcGw0q9ILBq
“I’m a consultant. With relevant experience.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOh552VDajE
“Psychic experience,” Johnson said flatly, the word carrying layers of skepticism despite our previous collaboration.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnKV0Rz17pl
“Call it what you want,” I replied. “But I’ve provided useful information before.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAUMh9sH1Jd
“To the Stevens case, yes.” Johnson shuffled papers in the folder, not meeting my eyes. “A lucky guess.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcN3I2SNRGK
“It wasn’t a guess.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD9josnbHZs
Johnson looked up, studying me for a long moment. His expression remained professionally detached, but something lurked beneath it—uncertainty, perhaps. Or reluctant curiosity.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ887RGbDmbw
“So what exactly were you looking for in Seamus Green’s house tonight?” he asked finally.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3uBKud1SLR
“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?”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZSlASGWbxo
“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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8O32XiOkSd
Johnson sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. The gesture briefly stripped away the professional facade, revealing the tired man beneath the badge.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6qTksjoOjX
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1KW44azhD8
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2vB5INVsfd
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx0vsM7eUH9
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4zer6g6N6E
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?”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtkO1aITIMi
“Not all harm leaves physical evidence,” I replied.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡubbnSI59zO
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUYbzsNlOZC
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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgK33wcOx4o
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsVlQP6O9iE
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2QAdDmfQiF
“He’s conflicted,” the spirit guide observed. “Part of him wants to believe you.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbTSVA0SrHa
“And the other part?” I murmured, knowing no recording device would capture my words or his presence.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrQBO843M4a
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu6NddEh0p3
“Will that be enough?” I asked.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe7K4HHtRWp
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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡemdXuyxtm2
I kept my expression carefully neutral, hiding my surprise and relief.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7ymhQaZjXp
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH1Lu2HC7h9
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs1OjiNqsV0
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRhVTwMN9Cj
“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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡibl6xQXxsA
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.”62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi3DPKqtiNG
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.62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcFoHKGWAZi
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.
62Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGFHk2Y3J1e
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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