Chapter 4My Fake Prophecies Solved Homicides

Despite her protests, I found myself in the back of an unmarked police sedan. Cooper was at the wheel, Zach was in the passenger seat, and I was left to sit in the cold silence of the rear cabin.

The atmosphere in the car was freezing.

How did I end up here? I'm a driver, not a detective.

"Alright, 'master'," Cooper said, her sarcastic tone reflecting in the rearview mirror. "Where are we heading? Should we go light some incense at a temple, or do you need to read some tea leaves?"

I offered a weak, tight-lipped smile and kept my mouth shut.

Zach turned around and handed me a thick folder. "Don't let her get to you. This is Beverly's case file. Take a look. See if you get any... 'feelings'."

He put a slight, deliberate emphasis on the word feelings.

My hands shook as I opened the folder, revealing crime scene photos of a sprawling, multi-million-dollar estate, locked doors, and close-ups of the victim's body.

My stomach churned at the sight. The only feeling I have is nausea.

As Cooper drove aimlessly through the wealthy neighborhoods, the minutes stretched into an agonizing hour. My forehead was slick with sweat. I knew I had to say something—anything—to make them realize I was useless so they would let me go.

I looked at Beverly's photo again. Her mouth was slightly parted, her fingers curled tight, as if she had been desperately reaching for something right before she died.

A sudden, ridiculous thought crossed my mind.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound as mysterious and confident as possible.

"What a tragedy."

The car fell perfectly silent. Both detectives watched me through their mirrors.

"She was ruled by heat," I began, letting the fictional narrative take over. "Too much ambition, too much fire. Water is the source of wealth, but it can also be the end of life."

"Get to the point," Cooper muttered.

"She was desperate for water before she died," I said, leaning into the lie. "But there was something wrong with the water."

The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. A locked-room poisoning, and I suggest the water? It made no sense.

Cooper began to scoff, but I quickly added one more detail to make the story sound finished.

"Check her kitchen. There is... a leak. A dripping faucet. Running water always draws the spirit away."

A chill went down my own spine. Great, now they'll think I'm completely out of my mind.

The silence in the car was absolute.

Cooper kept driving, her face unreadable. But Zach turned around slowly, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and sudden realization.

He grabbed the radio on the console. "Dispatch, this is Detective Zach. Send a processing team back to Beverly's residence immediately. Tell them to check the kitchen plumbing. Every single faucet."