The observatory's studies were a mess, the kind of disorganized chaos that often accompanies brilliance. Books piled precariously on every surface, notebooks with hastily scrawled diagrams lay scattered, and a faint scent of stale coffee lingered in the air. Clara stood in the center of the room, her sharp gaze scanning the space for anything out of place.
This is where Dr. March spent most of his time there, said Grant Ellis, the observatory's operations manager. He was a thin man with graying hair and nervous energy, wringing his hands as he spoke. "He has practically lived here the last few months."
Clara nodded but said nothing, her eyes catching on a small wooden box sitting on the edge of the desk. Unlike the clutter surrounding it, the box was polished and pristine, its brass inlay catching the light.
"What's this?" she asked, pointing to it.
Ellis stepped closer, peering at the box as though noticing it for the first time. Oh, that's Elias's puzzle box. He liked doing those kinds of things—said they helped him think.
Clara picked it up, feeling its surprising weight. The box was about the size of a hardcover book, intricately carved with geometric patterns. She turned it over in her hands, noticing a small latch that didn't budge.
"It's locked," she said, more to herself than to Ellis.
"Yeah, he kept it private," Ellis replied. "I'm not sure what he kept in there—probably just some personal knick knacks."
Clara exchanged a glance with Cruz, who stood by the door, scribbling notes. Something about the box felt significant.
"Is there a key?" she asked.
Ellis shrugged. Not that I know of. But if it's important, Elias would have a reason for keeping it locked.
Clara tucked the box under her arm. I'll take it with me. If it's not evidence, I'll return it.
Ellis nodded, but Clara could see the worry etched into his features.
---
Back at the station, Cruz worked on decrypting Dr. March's laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard. Clara sat at her desk, turning the puzzle box over in her hands. Its intricate carvings seemed almost like a code themselves, a secret waiting to be unraveled.
"You've been staring at that thing for twenty minutes," Cruz said without looking up. "You think there's something inside?"
Clara shrugged. I think it mattered enough to March to keep it locked. People don't make that kind of effort for no reason.
She pressed and twisted the various pieces, trying to find the right sequence. After a few minutes, there was a faint click, and the top of the box slid open. Inside, she found a small flash drive wrapped in a piece of parchment-like paper.
"What's that?" Cruz asked, abandoning the laptop to peer over her shoulder.
Clara unfolded the paper carefully. It was covered in handwritten symbols and equations, none of which she recognized. "Looks like some kind of cipher," she murmured.
"And the flash drive?"
Clara plugged it into her computer. The screen lit up with a single folder labeled Aurora. Clicking on it revealed a series of encrypted files. Clara frowned and turned to Cruz.
"Can you crack these?"
Cruz grinned. "Give me a few hours."
---
By the time Cruz finished, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the station walls. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "Got it," he said, spinning the laptop toward Clara.
The decrypted folder contained several documents, the first of which was a series of emails between Dr. March and an unidentified sender using the alias North Star.
Clara scanned the emails quickly. They were written in terse, formal language, discussing plans to halt marshland development. The sender appeared to be feeding March information about Green Tech's dealings, including evidence of bribery and illegal permits.
"This is big," Clara said, her mind racing. "If these emails are real, they could expose everyone involved in the development project."
Cruz nodded. Makes sense why someone would want March out of the way. But who's North Star?
"That's what we need to find out," Clara replied. She clicked on the next file—a scanned contract between Green Tech and the Cypress Hollow Town Council. The terms were damning, granting Green Tech permission to bypass environmental regulations in exchange for financial incentives.
"This implicates half the town council," Clara muttered.
"And probably explains why March didn't want this development going through," Cruz added.
Clara leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. The pieces were starting to fall into place, but there was still too much she didn't know. Who was North Star, and why were they feeding March this information? And more importantly, how had the killer known about the flash drive?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her phone buzzing on the desk. She glanced at the screen—an unknown number.
"Detective Reynolds," she answered.
There was a pause, and then a distorted voice spoke. You don't know what you're dealing with, Detective. Stay out of it, or you'll end up like March.
The line went dead.
Clara stared at the phone in her hand, her pulse quickening. The warning was clear, but it only steeled her resolve.
"Looks like we're on the right track," Cruz said grimly.
"Yeah," Clara replied, setting the phone down. "And whoever's behind this knows it."