"What is it?" Dean asks, coming around to lean over and look at the computer screen.
"Pictures and video," I say.
"It was password protected," Noah says. "But the techs circumvented the password. They couldn't make much sense out of any of it. Hopefully, it will make more sense to you."
I pull the images up in the gallery view.
"What is this?" I mutter, scanning through the images. "It looks like the inside of an old building."
The images are dark, but the longer I look at them, the more details I'm able to pull out. Heavy tapestries and drapes. Bulky furniture scrolled in solid wood. Deep shelves built into walls with silk wallpaper. One looks like an altar, while another is a wider shot of an office with a massive mahogany desk in the middle. The next row of images stops me.
"Look at this." I point to the screen. I enlarge the picture and lighten the contrast to bring out more detail. It's not perfect, but it gives a better view of the image. "This is the exact carving that was in the door at Tarasco's place."
"Are you sure?" Dean asks.
"Positive." I shrink the images back down and bring up the next two in sequence. "There it is again, and again. It looks as if it's carved into something in these two but burned into something in this one. Maybe a leather book?"
"Maybe," Sam notes. He points at the next image. "What's that?"
I pull it up. It looks like a wheel studded with nails. Narrow wedge shapes divide up the circle, each ending in a curved wooden cup at the bottom.
"A torture device?" Dean asks.
"No," I shake my head. "Look at the table beside it. The size. It's not all that big. And the nails are positioned, so the point is in the wood." I stare at it for a few more seconds. An image is trying to form in my mind.
Suddenly, it comes to me. I rush over to the other side of the table. I bring back a folded sheet of paper and smooth it out to show the guys. "Xavier drew me this picture. That's what it is. Why would he draw this?"
"Emma, look," Sam points at the drawing. "These circles."
"I don't know what they are," I say.
He points at the image on the screen, at the table beside the wheel. On it sit four black spheres.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Why are these images so dark?” I ask. “Lakyn's entire life is about taking pictures and videos of herself. Shouldn't everything be clearer than this?”
“Not if she wasn't able to use light,” Dean says. “She may not have wanted to risk using her phone’s flash if she was secretly taking these pictures.”
“What's that?” Noah asks, pointing to the screen. “In that corner.”
It's an image of the altar but from a sharp angle. The perspective reveals a sliver of a mirror on the wall to the side of the altar. The reflection is almost impossible to discern, but when I enlarge the image as big as I can on the screen, it shows three figures. Two wear black robes with long cords in different colors over their shoulders. The one in the middle wears a gray tunic over wide gray pants. All three appear to be wearing hoods.
“There were people there when she was taking the pictures,” I say.
“People who don't look like they want guests,” Sam notes. “They look like a cult. Or some sort of secret society.”
“But who are they?”
The next afternoon Dean comes into the conference room with a look on his face that tells me he found something.
“How was Xavier this morning?” he asks.
“Really good, actually. He didn't seem as anxious. I wasn't able to bring my phone in to show him any of the pictures, but I described things to him. He cut me off a lot, but he started talking about his mythology professor again.”
“Prometheus,” Dean says. “That has to be what he's talking about.”
“It has to be,” I nod. “I talked to him about the circle. He said it was a wheel. That wheels are fair. They don't have biases. And that's what makes them perfect. It gives everyone a chance.”
“So, that thing is used to… choose something,” Dean says. “Like the Plink-o board of the damned.”
“I think that's a pretty fair assessment. But what are they choosing?” I ask. “I can't ask Xavier that straight out. That's treading on dangerous ground with the…" I pause, the words stopping in my throat.
“With the what?” Dean asks.
“With the cameras,” I say. “There are cameras in the room where I meet with him. ‘Always watching, Emma. Always watching.’ Xavier says that to me almost every time I talk to him. They are always watching. ‘They’.”
“Someone in the jail,” Dean says.
I shake my head. “Not someone. Warden Light.”
“Has he been suspicious of you at all? How did he act today?” Dean asks.
“He wasn't there today. The receptionist said he has appointments for most of the day.”
"Where's Sam?" he asks. "I have some information I wanted you both to hear."
"Went to put in a call for me. The mayor back in Sherwood introduced us to one of his judge friends at a party before I came back here. Since Sterling Jennings is doing everything he can to avoid seeing me, Sam's going to see if he can get the judge to pull some strings,” I say.
“Oh, that would be such a nice conversation. If you do get a chance to have that sit down with him, be sure to mention his wedding officiating services,” Dean says.
“Wedding officiating?”
“Seems Sterling Jennings is busy. Presiding over murder trials and marrying mysteriously missing men.”
My mouth falls open. “Mason and Eleanor? He married them?”
“Yes he did,” Dean confirms. “It's amazing what you can access when you have the
