The PowWow

The apartment felt different than Jeremiah’s place. Quieter. Not peaceful—just… empty in a way that made sound feel like it had to work harder.

I stood near the door with my keys in hand, watching Jacob move a chair toward the window like he had all the time in the world.

“You coming?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away. That was already an answer.

I sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re sitting this one out.”

He glanced at me, then said, “King Asa.”

I blinked. “…that feels unrelated.”

Jacob rested a hand on the back of the chair.

“He went to another king for help,” he said. “Instead of going to God.”

There it was.

I smirked. “Ah. So this is about me going to the police.”

“He was rebuked for it,” Jacob continued, calm as ever. “Told he had relied on man instead of the Lord.”

I held up a hand. “In my defense, he was dealing with armies. I’m going to talk to a detective.”

“The principle is the same.”

“Of course it is.”

He pulled the chair into place, precise as everything else he did.

“You are going to seek answers,” he said, “without first seeking guidance.”

I pointed at him. “I am seeking answers—from someone with access to cameras, reports, and actual evidence.”

He met my eyes without blinking, or budging. He was stubborn in his principles.

“You assume those will give you truth.”

I paused.

Not because he convinced me. Just because… he believed that.

“…yeah,” I said slowly. “That’s kind of the point.”

No reaction, just that same steady look.

I stared at him a second longer. “…you’re serious.”

“I am.”

I let out a breath, shaking my head.

“Alright,” I said. “Counterpoint—Asa didn’t have Rachel Stryker.”

Nothing, not even a flicker. Then the corner of his mouth twitched upward again. “The correct response is that Asa is Old Testament, which means the rules have changed slightly.”

I pointed at him like I knew that. “That’s what I thought.”

He stepped past me, toward the window.

“I will pray,” he said.

“I will too, but later.”

He paused, just slightly.

Then added, like it was the most normal thing in the world—

“Now is as good a time.”

I considered that for about half a second.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

He didn’t push. He never did. He prayed, a lot. I prayed, but not nearly as much. His steeping in the Word growing up was much more formative than mine. Don’t get me wrong, I believe and I follow, but my methods are not the same as his. Different roads, similar destination.

I jangled my keys. “Try not to solve the case without me.”

No response. Of course not.

I smiled anyway and stepped out.

Behind me, I heard the soft shift as Jacob lowered himself to his knees.

Still and focused.

Like everything else in his life snapped into place the moment he stopped moving.

“Lord,” he said quietly, “we do not see clearly…”

I closed the door before I could hear the rest.

The police department buzzed with quiet activity—phones, keyboards, low voices. Controlled chaos. The desk sergeant calmly handled a small sea of people that were impatiently awaiting his attention.

I walked in like I belonged, moving past the desk sergeant, sure he wouldn’t notice me pass by. Confidence gets you further than credentials most days.

I stopped an officer walking in the hallway. “I’m here to see Detective Stryker.”

The officer looked up. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” I said easily. “But she’s expecting me.”

That wasn’t entirely true. It also wasn’t entirely false. One of the Ten Commandments, Thou Shalt not Lie, is actually closer to Thou Shalt not Slander. Honestly, if your wife asks you if the dress makes her look fat, do you dread an eternity in hell for not saying ,”Yes! Huge, like a battleship.”

He hesitated, then reached for the radio at his shoulder.

I waited, hands in my pockets, scanning the room. A few glances my way. Nothing unusual.

A minute later after some conversation on his radio. “She’ll see you. Second floor.”

I smiled. “Appreciate it.”

Rachel didn’t look surprised when I walked in. Her suit today was an echo of the one she wore at the crime scene. It was very professional, but severe. A brief thought wound through my head, her in sweats, curled up on a couch, hair down and casual.

“Levi.”

“Stryker.”

A beat.

Then—

“Rachel,” I corrected.

Her eyebrow lifted slightly. Aha! Progress.

“What do you need?” she asked.

“Footage.”

She didn’t hesitate. Just turned with a tiny smile. She’d already started.

“Come on.”

The IT room was dim, lit mostly by monitors and muted overheads.

Rachel moved like she owned the place—pulling up the system, navigating quickly.

“Warehouse exterior,” she said. “Front camera. This is after the officers arrived and after when Espinoza was killed.”

The screen shifted. Night. Still. Empty, except for a squad car with a crushed front end, tones of glass and two dead officers.

I stepped closer.

“There,” I said.

Movement. A figure at the edge of the frame. Hard to make out.

There and gone, quickly, and not enough in the frame to even begin identifying.

Rachel leaned in slightly. “That’s him?”

“Has to be. We assume he came back and cleaned things up, this proves it.”

We watched as the figure moved toward the building and disappeared inside, never facing the camera and wearing a heavy overcoat.

“I need more than that.”

I punched a key to pause the frame and before she could start her protest, I pointed at the screen. “Bare feet.”

Rachel rewound it an played played it again.

Same result. There was no clear, defined image to work off of.

She fast-forwarded the recording. Time ticked by.

Then—

The doors opened, and the figure stepped out. The face was obscured by Alicia’s body over the man’s shoulder. He turned slowly.

The screen glitched.

Not static. Not a clean cut. The image twisted—like something hit it.

Then—

Black.

When it came back—the time stamp had jumped.

Twenty-eight seconds. Gone.

Rachel straightened slightly. “…that shouldn’t happen.”

I folded my arms. “No?”

“No,” she said flatly. “That system has redundancies. It doesn’t just lose time.”

I nodded toward the screen. “Looks like it just did.”

Her jaw tightened and she grabbed the phone. “I want IT in here. Now.”

She hung up and turned back to the monitor.

“Hardware failure,” she said. “Power fluctuation.”

“Supernatural causes.” I muttered.

She didn’t even look at me.

“No.”

I smiled slightly. “You don’t even stop to consider it?”

She said again. “No.”

I leaned against the desk. “Okay, but hear me out—”

“I’m not entertaining ‘something supernatural disrupted the camera,’” she said, finally turning to me. “That’s not how this works.”

I held up a hand. “Didn’t say disrupted.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“That’s exactly what you were going to say.”

“Alright, fine,” I said. “Disrupted.”

“That’s worse.”

“It’s more accurate.”

She stared at me. Longer this time. Not dismissing. Evaluating.

She reached up two fingers and massaged the bridge of her nose, a very different look for her. “…you actually believe that.”

I shrugged. “I believe what fits the evidence.”

“And you think that fits?”

I nodded toward the screen. “I think twenty-eight seconds don’t just vanish.”

Silence. She looked back at the monitor.

“…we investigate facts,” she said.

I smiled. “That’s all I’m asking.”

A beat.

“…fine.”

Small, but real. I love fresh starts.

“Run it again,” I said.

She did. The figure exits with Alicia over the shoulder.

The glitch hits—

“Back it up.”

She scrubbed the timeline. “We could play this a thousand times, what are you looking for?”

I pointed. “Right there. There’s a car.”

Rachel frowned. “Oh goody, a car.”

She hit play.

Frame by frame now.

Just before the glitch—Headlights.

A car parked across the street.

Then—The distortion.

Black. Return. The car was gone.

Rachel leaned in. “…that wasn’t there before.”

I grinned slightly. “Yeah. It was. Enhance that frame.”

She isolated it. Zoomed in so much it was grainy.

Partial, but enough.

“…license plate,” she said.

I nodded. “Thought so.”

She grabbed a notepad, writing it down quickly. Her movements sharper now. Focused.

Then she looked at me. Different this time. Less guarded. Still calculating, but I think the numbers had changed.

“…you’re good at this,” she said.

I tilted my head. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I’m… adjusting.”

I smiled. “Careful. That sounds like progress.”

Her mouth twitched, almost a smile.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Too late, I already had.

Feeling light on my feet, I walked outside the precinct toward my car and pulled out my phone. I called Jacob.“Hello, Levi.”

I stifled a giggle. “Sleuthing 1, prayer 0. I got a lead.”

Jacob’s voice was as rumbly as ever, but I heard the smile. “I know, you got a license plate.”

I stopped, stunned. “How?”

Jacob replied, “Faith.”

I hung up the phone, completely deflated. Then, I remembered Rachel, and my spirits soared again. Okay. Prayer 1, sleuthing 1, with Rachel noticing me, Levi is winning.”