Chapter 3 Chapter 3: Blood Money (Sam POV)

The phone rings at 5:43 AM, just as I'm finally crawling into bed. I consider ignoring it, but unknown numbers at this hour usually mean emergency cases. Emergency cases pay well.

"Sam Drewsbury."

"Ms. Drewsbury, my name is Pedro Fernandez. I need your help." The voice is smooth, cultured, with just a hint of an accent. "My daughter has been kidnapped."

I sit up in bed, suddenly alert. "Mr. Fernandez, if your daughter's been kidnapped, you should call the police, not a private investigator."

"The police have been... unhelpful. They think Maria ran away." His voice breaks slightly. "She's seventeen, Ms. Drewsbury. A good girl. She wouldn't just disappear."

"How did you get my number?"

There's a pause. "I did extensive research before reaching out. Your reputation for finding missing persons in... unusual circumstances... preceded you."

That's one way to put it. "What kind of research?"

"The Kellerman case last year. The Peterson family two months ago. The Morris girl in January." All supernatural cases, all kept out of the official reports. "You have a gift for finding people who've encountered things the police can't explain."

I close my eyes, processing this. Pedro Fernandez knows exactly what I am and what I do. The question is how, and what that means for his missing daughter.

"Mr. Fernandez, I charge five hundred dollars a day plus expenses."

"Money is not an issue. I'll pay you five thousand just to take the case, with another ten thousand when you bring Maria home."

Fifteen thousand dollars.

But there's something in his voice, a desperation that goes beyond parental worry. And if he knows about my supernatural cases, then Maria Fernandez's disappearance might be connected to the ritual murders I've been investigating.

"I'll take the case. But I work with a partner, and we do this my way."

"Of course. When can you start?"

"This morning. I'll need to see where she disappeared from."

"She was taken from our home in Magnolia. I'll text you the address." The relief in his voice is palpable. "Thank you, Ms. Drewsbury. You may be the only person who can bring my daughter back... alive."

The line goes dead, and I stare at my phone for a long moment. Tyler's going to love this; a paying client with a real missing person case. And if Maria Fernandez's disappearance connects to the ritual murders, I might finally get a lead on Danny's killer.

I call Tyler, who answers on the first ring despite the early hour.

"Sam? Please tell me you're not calling with more supernatural serial killer theories."

"Better. We have a paying client. Be ready in an hour."

"A paying client?" Tyler's voice perks up. "Like, actual money paying?"

"Fifteen thousand dollars paying."

"Holy shit. I mean, holy crap. Sorry." Tyler's excitement is infectious. "What's the case?"

"Missing seventeen-year-old girl. Father thinks she was kidnapped."

"Thinks?"

"Police think she ran away. We're going to find out which one is true."

I hang up and drag myself out of bed, pulling on jeans and a clean t-shirt. The exhaustion from the death echo investigation weighs on me, but fifteen thousand dollars is enough motivation to keep going.

An hour later, Tyler and I are driving through the tree-lined streets of Magnolia, one of Seattle's most expensive neighborhoods. The Fernandez house is a modern glass-and-steel structure overlooking Elliott Bay.

Pedro Fernandez meets us at the door. He's younger than his voice suggested, maybe forty-five, with graying temples and expensive clothes that can't hide the worry lines around his eyes. Everything about him says successful businessman.

"Ms. Drewsbury, thank you for coming so quickly." He shakes my hand, his grip firm but not lingering. "This is your partner?"

"Tyler. I handle research and documentation." Tyler shakes Pedro's hand with the enthusiasm of someone who's never seen a house worth millions.

Pedro leads us into a living room. "Maria disappeared three nights ago. She was supposed to be studying for her SATs in her room. When I went to check on her around midnight, she was gone."

"Any signs of forced entry?" I ask, already scanning the room for psychic impressions.

"None. Her bedroom window was open, but it's on the second floor. No ladder, no rope. The police think she climbed down the trellis."

Tyler pulls out his notebook. "Did she take anything with her? Clothes, money, personal items?"

"That's the strange part. Nothing was missing. Not even her phone or wallet." Pedro walks to the window, staring out at the water. "The police said that proves she's planning to come back, that she just needed space. But Maria would never worry me like this."

I study Pedro's profile, looking for tells. His story sounds genuine, but something about this whole situation feels orchestrated.

"Mr. Fernandez, what kind of business are you in?"

"Technology. My company develops quantum computing applications."

Tyler and I exchange glances. Another connection to quantum research, just like the murder sites.

"What kind of applications?" Tyler asks.

"Data processing, mostly. Some theoretical work on parallel processing systems. Nothing that would put Maria in danger."

"Can I see her room?" I ask.

Pedro nods and leads us upstairs to a teenager's bedroom that looks like it came from a magazine.

I walk to the open window, placing my hand on the sill where Maria would have touched it climbing out. The death echo hits immediately.

Terror. Absolute, crushing terror. Maria Fernandez struggles against invisible hands that drag her through the window. But she's not climbing down—she's floating, suspended three feet off the ground by something that whispers in that same ancient language I heard at the murder scene. Her mouth opens in a scream that never comes because something has stolen her voice.

The vision shifts, showing me where they took her. An abandoned warehouse in Georgetown, the same industrial district where I've been tracking supernatural activity. But this isn't a simple kidnapping.

Maria lies on a stone altar surrounded by candles and symbols carved into concrete. The same reversed containment circles from the murder scenes. A figure in a dark hood raises a ceremonial knife, speaking words that make my blood sing with recognition. Maria's eyes are wide with horror as she realizes what's about to happen.

The knife comes down.

I jerk my hand back from the window sill, gasping.

"Sam?" Tyler grabs my arm, steadying me. "What did you see?"

Pedro turns from examining Maria's desk, his eyes full of desperate hope. "Did you find something? Any clue where she might be?"

I look at Pedro Fernandez and see genuine parental anguish. The worry in his eyes is real, raw grief mixed with the kind of terror only a parent can feel when their child is missing. The vision of Maria's ritual murder burns in my mind, but I can't tell him the truth. How do you tell a father that his daughter died screaming on a sacrificial altar?

"I... I got some impressions." I force my voice to stay steady. "She definitely left through this window, but not willingly."

Pedro's face crumples with relief and horror. "Not willingly? So she was taken?"

"It looks that way." it's kinder than the truth. "I need to investigate further before I can give you any definitive answers."

Tyler frowns at me. "Sam, are you sure that's all you saw?"

"I'm fine." I move away from the window, avoiding Tyler's probing stare. "Mr. Fernandez, I'll need to visit some locations around the city."

"I'll call you as soon as I have more information."

"Of course." Pedro clutches the card I gave him like a lifeline. "Ms. Drewsbury, please. She's all I have left. Her mother died when she was ten, and Maria... she's everything to me."

The genuine love and desperation in his voice makes my chest tight. This man has no idea his daughter is already dead, and I'm going to have to tell him eventually. But not today. Not like this.

"I understand, Mr. Fernandez. I'll do everything I can."

As we walk to the car, Tyler keeps shooting me sideways glances. I can feel the questions building up behind his eyes, the way he does when he knows I'm holding back information.

We're barely out of the driveway when he explodes.

"Okay, what the hell was that back there?" Tyler twists in his seat to face me. "And don't give me some bullshit about 'impressions.' You saw something specific, didn't you?"

"Tyler..."

"Don't Tyler me. I've been working with you long enough to know when you're lying." His voice rises. "You had a full psychic episode in there, complete with the gasping and the color draining from your face. You know exactly what happened to her."

I focus on driving, but Tyler isn't letting this go.

"Sam, that man is paying us fifteen thousand dollars to find his daughter. If you know something that could help him, you have to tell him."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not? What did you see that's so bad you can't even tell a desperate father?"

I pull over into a Starbucks parking lot and turn off the engine. Tyler deserves some version of the truth, even if I can't give him all of it.

"I saw Maria die, Tyler."

His face goes white. "What? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. She was murdered three days ago in some kind of ritual." I lean back against the headrest, suddenly exhausted. "There's no investigation to do. There's no rescue mission. That girl is dead, and her father is never going to see her again."