FLAMES OF DESTINY

𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹

Kat, Sam, and Dean arrived at the scene of the murder and robbery, the upscale jewellery store still bustling with the aftermath of shock and confusion. Kat's eyes roamed the showroom, taking in the shattered glass cases and the heavy air of disbelief that lingered. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but her attention kept drifting to Dean, who was off to the side, flirting shamelessly with one of the store employees. Kat rolled her eyes, exasperated but unfortunately not surprised.

She turned her attention back to the manager, a middle-aged man with tired eyes and a demeanor that screamed exhaustion. "Helena was our head buyer," he began, his voice laced with a sadness that tugged at the edges of Kat's empathy. "She — she was family, you know? She said it herself every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had."

Kat nodded, listening intently, though her mind was half on the case and half on Sam beside her. She noticed his hair was slicked back differently today, giving him a more serious and polished look. It suited him, though it was a change she hadn't seen coming.

"So there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" Kat asked, her voice steady as she glanced up at Sam briefly before returning her gaze to the manager.

"No... still can't believe it, even now," the manager sighed, shaking his head as though he was trying to wake himself from a bad dream. "That night, Helena came back to the store after closing, cleaned out all the display cases and the safe. Edgar, our night watchman — he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do. He's known her for years. He called me at home."

"And that's when she took his gun?" Sam interjected, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

"She shot him in the face. I heard him die over the phone." The manager shivered at the memory, his expression haunted. "I didn't see it, but hearing it... it was like I was there." He swallowed hard, his eyes glossed with the weight of it all.

Kat's brow furrowed, her mind whirling with the inexplicable tragedy. "Any idea what her motive could have been?"

"What motive? It makes no sense," the manager said, frustration creeping into his voice. "Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewellery and then, what, just dump it somewhere? Just hide it and then go home?" He seemed lost in the confusion, his grief turning into anger.

Meanwhile, Dean stood across the room, finishing up his conversation with a young employee named Frannie, her eyes sparkling with a bit too much interest. "She killed herself?" Dean asked, feigning polite concern.

"The cops said she dropped the hair dryer in the bath and fried herself. They should know, right?" Frannie replied, more gossiping than actually concerned.

"Yeah. Well, thanks, Frannie. I think that's all I need," Dean said smoothly.

Frannie leaned closer, her smile playful. "Really? I mean, 'cause I've got more, you know, if you wanted to interview me... sometime in private?"

Dean hesitated for a split second before nodding with a grin. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You're a true patriot. You really are. Why don't you write your number down there for me?"

Kat watched out of the corner of her eye as Frannie scribbled her number down, and Dean rejoined them, brandishing the paper with a self-satisfied smirk. She tried to focus on what the manager was saying, but her attention was pulled toward the number in Dean's hand, and an inexplicable twist of jealousy flickered in her stomach.

"So you never saw the camera footage yourself then?" Sam asked, keeping the conversation on track.

"The police — they took all the tapes first thing," the manager explained, frustration evident in his voice.