They began trekking through the hospital, on their way to the elevator. Jake's mind swam. This opened up a whole new world of questioning for them, and he was excited to dive deep and solve this thing, once and for all.

  "I should let Fiona know how it went," Jake said as they got into the elevator, taking out his phone.

  Lauren shot him a look. "You know she's on this case as a consultant, right? We don't have to let her know about every detail."

  Jake paused, taken aback. "Of course, but she's probably wondering what's going on."

  Jake tucked his phone away, anyway, sensing a tense energy off Lauren. The elevator reached the main floor.

  As they stepped back out into the lobby, Jake's car was waiting for them in the parking lot. The sun peeked out behind the clouds, and a gentle breeze rustled through the trees.

  Jake unlocked his car with a beep and Lauren slid into the passenger seat. Lauren crossed her arms wordlessly. Once they were alone, Jake knew he didn't want to keep going until he figured out where Lauren's negative energy was coming from.

  "Hey, are you good?" he asked. "You seem tense about Fiona."

  Lauren scowled. "Why would I be tense about her?"

  "I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

  Lauren sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm not crazy about her tagging along on this case," she admitted.

  Jake tried to keep his expression neutral. He understood why Lauren would feel this way; Fiona was a big personality, and it was true that she didn't have the same level of experience or training. But he also knew Fiona had valuable insight.

  "Look," Jake began carefully. "Fiona may not have our experience, but she is still a great asset to us." He paused, watching Lauren's face for any sign of agreement or disagreement. “I mean, think about it, Lauren. She’s given us our biggest clues on this case. We wouldn’t be here without her.”

  Lauren remained silent for a few moments before finally speaking up again.

  "I know," she said begrudgingly, looking out the window. "But she has no real experience or training in investigations. It's great for her to be there for forensic analysis, but we shouldn't take her out in the field or get her too involved with our side of things."

  Jake furrowed his brows. He had to admit, he had never considered how Lauren might feel about Fiona being involved in their case. Sure, Fiona was a consultant and could offer some helpful advice; but if Lauren thought that Fiona was getting in the way, then he should take it seriously.

  After all, Lauren was his partner. Not Fiona.

  "Okay," Jake said slowly. "I'll talk to her and make sure she understands what her role is here."

  Lauren nodded, still not making eye contact with him. Jake reached over and gently touched her arm. She looked at him, finally meeting his gaze with an expression of relief on her face.

  He couldn't help but wonder if there was more she wasn't telling him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  In the briefing room at HQ, Jake sat with his laptop open, Lauren across from him as they both digitally canvassed the area around Greely Street--where Josie had been found. One thing was certain; the killer was here somewhere. The question was, which house was his?

  They had the general area and description—the problem was, Josie couldn’t recall how far she had run, and there were a lot of houses in the area; it was a huge stretch of rolling hills and farmland mixed in with patches of forestry, and there were a lot of potential matches.

  Jake figured the best way was to focus on those with criminal records; then they could start banging on some doors.

  He began by searching for public records, running background checks on all the residents in the area. But to his disappointment, he found no one with a criminal record. He ran the searches again and again, but still came up empty-handed. He gritted his teeth in frustration; every second they wasted was another moment the killer remained at large.

  Still determined to find something, Jake decided to widen his search. He scoured police reports, dug through court documents, and even searched public social media accounts--but still nothing. The only thing that came up were minor traffic violations and some overdue library books, but nothing that could lead him in the direction of a murderer.

  "Any luck on your end?" Jake asked Lauren, hoping to fill the void of their silence.

  But Lauren looked just as frustrated as him. "Nothing yet."

  Jake thought on it for a moment. What kind of person were they even looking for? Why keep the bodies in a freezer in his basement, and why release them now? There were so many unanswered questions...

  "What do you think the psych profile of this guy is?" Jake asked.

  Lauren looked up thoughtfully. "Well, he's obviously very organized and methodical--probably someone who likes to keep things in control," she said slowly.

  Jake nodded, feeling a surge of hope. If they could figure out the type of person that they were looking for then maybe, they could narrow down the suspect list. He quickly opened up his laptop and began typing away, searching for any information that might help them identify who this killer was. As he did so, he built up a profile in his mind.

  Someone angry, most likely. Angry at the world. Maybe wronged by society. Someone with a sick desire to kill women and take their lives… maybe someone who wanted women in general to pay, hence why he picked them all so randomly.

  "He's probably somebody who came from a troubled background," Jake said, "someone with a lot of anger and resentment towards society. He's likely been planning this for years, maybe decades."

  Lauren nodded in agreement, her brows furrowed in concentration. "Maybe he was someone who was wronged in some way," she suggested. "Maybe he had a grudge against someone or something."

  Now they were getting somewhere. Jake looked up at Lauren and smiled, feeling a sudden burst of optimism. Together, they could figure this out--they just needed to keep searching for any clues that might lead them to the killer's identity.

  Jake continued to search--but then something caught his eye: an old news article from two years ago about a man, a former women's soccer coach, who had been fired after allegations of sexual misconduct.

  The hair on the back of Jake's neck stood up. Could this be their killer? He quickly entered the man's name into a search engine and soon enough, his address popped up--right in the same neighborhood as Greely Street. According to satellite imagery, it wasn't a farm house, but was a nice home on a large plot of land with a vast field. It could easily be the same house Josie escaped from.

  "I think I've got someone," he said.

  Lauren looked up in surprise. "What do you mean?"

  "I found a potential suspect," he said, pointing to the screen. "Former women's soccer coach, fired for misconduct, seems like he's a drunk now as he's spent a lot of money on booze. His name's Harry Reinke."

  Lauren's eyes widened. “Sounds like someone we should talk to,” she said, her voice laced with determination.

  Jake couldn't agree more. He seemed to be the only one in the area with dirt. "Let's go talk to him."

  ***

  Nervousness coursed through Jake's veins as he parked at the end of the suspect's driveway and stepped out of the car. The sky was beginning to darken with clouds, giving a sinister aura to the eerie silence around them. The only thing that could be heard was the crunching sound of their shoes on the gravel beneath them as they approached the house.

  The closer they got to the house, the more uneasy Jake felt; it seemed like an ordinary home from afar, but up close, there was an air of something off about it. He could almost feel a presence watching them from behind every window, ready to strike if he made one wrong move.

  Jake knocked on the door several times before finally hearing a gruff voice call out from inside.

  "Who's there?"

  "We're looking for Harry Reinke," Jake answered in an even tone.

  The door opened slowly, revealing an unkempt man in his late fifties wearing worn-out clothes and smelling of stale beer. His frame was wide, and he was blocking most of the doorway. Josie had said her assailant had seemed frail, but this guy had some weight on him. Of course, he couldn't pass it off just yet, as Josie could have remembered wrong. She also said she had barely seen the man in general, so Jake had to take that with a grain of salt.

  "Can I help you?" Harry asked gruffly.

  Jake flashed his badge, along with Lauren. "I'm Agent Jake Tucker with the FBI, and this is my partner, Agent Lauren Price. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

  "What about?" Harry asked, scowling.

  "Could we come in, sir?" Jake asked.

  Harry's scowl only deepened. "I know my rights. I don't have to let you in."

  Jake exchanged a look with Lauren, a sense of danger rising in him. "You don't have to," Jake said, "but we would appreciate it if we could sit down and talk to you."

  "You can talk to me right here," Harry said.

  Jake’s eyes hardened on Harry. So, it was going to be like that. Jake wasn't about to let Harry intimidate him; if he wanted to talk here, he could work with that.

  Jake took out his phone and pulled up a photo of Josie, then flashed it to Harry. "Do you recognize this woman?"

  Harry's expression didn't change. "Nope, don't know her."

  "She was kidnapped by someone in this area, but was able to escape," Jake said. "We're asking around to see if anyone has any information."

  Harry shrugged. "Don't know nothing about it."

  Jake eyed him skeptically. "Are you sure? You don't remember seeing anyone suspicious around here recently?"

  Harry shook his head. "Nope, I ain't seen nothing."

  Jake stared at him, searching for any sign of guilt or recognition in the man's face, but there was none. He seemed to be telling the truth—or at least he was putting on a good act. Jake couldn't tell for sure if Harry was hiding something or not, but he had to assume the worst and assume he knew something about Josie's abduction--and the murders.

  Jake peered past Harry's frame, and on the hardwood floor behind him in the house, he saw a pool of red. His stomach fell to the floor, and he subtly nudged Lauren. She looked past Harry and spotted it too.

  "Is that blood on your floor in there?" Lauren asked.

  Harry glanced over his shoulder, then back at them, indifferent. "I cut myself workin'. Made a mess." He held up his palm, which had a large gash on it. "Blood don't come easy out of hardwood."

  Jake nodded, then glanced at Lauren. He could tell she was thinking the same thing—that Harry was lying. He had to press harder.

  "Sir, we need you to come with us," Jake said firmly, staring straight into Harry's eyes. "We want to ask you some more questions, and it’s better if we take it somewhere more professional.”

  Harry's face reddened in anger. "What? Why?"

  Jake held up his hands in a calming gesture and smiled reassuringly. "Look, we just want to ask you a few questions and look through your house so that we can find out who did this to Josie and the other victims." Jake paused for a moment, then added softly, "It would really help if you came with us."

  Harry's face suddenly narrowed in anger. "What? You think I'm gonna go with you just because you asked nicely? I ain't done nothin' wrong! You got no right coming here and trying to take me away like this!"

  Jake could feel the tension rise like a rubber band about to snap. He had to keep the peace, but he could tell Harry was about to blow. Still, he had to try. "We're not trying to take you away, Harry. We just want you to come with us so that we can get some more information from you about what happened here." Jake paused for a moment before continuing, his voice gentle yet firm. "We know this is an inconvenience for you, but it would really help us out if you could come with us and answer some of our questions."

  "Hell no, I'm not answering any questions," Harry said. He went to slam the door, but Jake instinctively shoved his hand out, blocking it.

  At that moment, Harry snapped.

  He lunged at Jake, eyes wild with rage. His fists were clenched tightly, and his lips were pulled back in a snarl. He was clearly ready to do whatever it took to get rid of them, even if it meant physical harm.

  Jake stepped back, utterly shocked by the sudden outburst. He had expected Harry to be angry, but he hadn't expected him to lash out like this. Lauren stepped between them, her voice trembling as she tried to calm down the situation. "Harry," she said softly. "We just want to talk."

  But Harry wasn't listening—he just kept coming closer and closer until Jake finally felt the need to act. He grabbed Harry's arm and pushed him away from them, not wanting either of them to get hurt in the process.

  Harry shoved Lauren out of the way, then dove at Jake, tackling him to the grass.

  Jake felt the air rush out of him as he hit the ground, but he quickly recovered and tried to wrestle Harry off him. He grabbed onto his wrists and squeezed, trying to force him back. Meanwhile, Lauren rushed over and pulled her gun out, pointing it right at the back of Harry's head.

  "Don't move!" she yelled.

  At that, Harry froze. He slowly rose off Jake and turned to face Lauren, and Jake didn't waste a second. He grabbed Harry's arms and forced them behind his back, handcuffing him.

  "You have the right to remain silent," he began, reading Harry his Miranda rights. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

  Jake finished the Miranda warning, then turned to Lauren. He gave her a grim smile, relieved that they had finally managed to arrest Harry. She returned the smile, though her eyes were still wide with shock.

  They had done it—they had finally caught their suspect.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Fiona's pulse raced as she dashed through the FBI headquarters, having just heard the news--that Jake and Lauren brought in a suspect. Her mind raced as she wondered who the man was, and if he really was the guy. She'd been in the dark since Jake got the call at lunch about a victim being found alive, and if that were true, then that lead probably led them right to the real killer's identity.

  Fiona reached the interrogation area and went into the room--only to see Chief Whittaker and Lauren, standing next to a woman with auburn hair. Meanwhile, on the other side of the glass, Fiona could see Jake talking to a fairly large, older man, who looked beyond angry to be there.

  Lauren looked back at Fiona with a frown. "Ms. Red, who let you in here?"

  "Ah, I'm sorry," Fiona said, "I didn't mean to interrupt, but I heard someone came in and--"

  Lauren glanced at Chief Whittaker, then fully faced Fiona. The auburn-haired woman was dressed like a normal civilian, so Fiona could assume she wasn't with the FBI. Maybe this was the victim?

  "Your place is in the lab, Fiona," Lauren said, coming over to her. "We appreciate your help on this, but--"

  Chief Whittaker came over, raising his hand. "That's all right, Agent Price. It could be valuable for Ms. Red to learn more about the interrogation process. Agent Tucker says she was quite the asset on this case."

  Fiona's heart sank as she saw the flustered look on Lauren's face. Fiona felt like a pest, buzzing around Lauren's head and irritating her. Maybe it was time for her to take the hint and back off, but at the same time, this was her case now too; she'd been brought in on it, and she wanted to see it through.

  "I won't stay long," Fiona assured. "I just wanted to see how everything is going."

  "Ms. Red, this is Josie Gregory," Chief Whittaker said. "She's the victim who escaped from the killer."

  Fiona stepped forward and offered a firm hand, which Josie reluctantly accepted. "Fiona Red, Forensic Specialist and Entomologist with the FBI," Fiona said. "I'm so happy to see you safe."

  "Thank you," Josie said, but she looked at Lauren hesitantly. "But, I'm..."

  Lauren stepped up, putting her shoulder slightly in front of Fiona. "You're not convinced this is the man who took you?" Lauren pressed.

  Josie glanced into the interrogation room, where Jake was still at work. "I just don't remember him being that large. But it was dark, and I really never saw his face."

  Fiona's gaze shifted to the window, and she found herself studying this mysterious man. He had a gruff demeanor, and his eyes seemed to be hiding something. Fiona wondered if Jake was really talking to the killer--or if this was the wrong guy.

  "I'm going to get back in there," Lauren said, then glanced at Fiona. "I'll send Agent Tucker out, and he can update you on everything we have so far."

  Fiona nodded. Lauren stepped back into the interrogation room, and Fiona watched as Jake came out a moment later. His face was serious, but his eyes glinted with determination.

  "What did you find out?" Fiona asked eagerly.

  Jake shook his head. "It's hard to say. He's not confessing yet, but I can tell there's something more he's keeping from us." He sighed and crossed his arms. "I think if we give him enough time, eventually he'll crack. We've got forensics testing the blood found in his house to see if it's really his."

  "Good work, all of you," the chief said, and Jake nodded. "I'll leave this in your hands." Chief Whittaker looked at Fiona with a knowing eye--a look like he was almost testing her, sizing her up. Was there a reason he had decided to let her stay, while Lauren had wanted her out? No... Fiona was sure she was imagining it. There was no way someone as esteemed as Chief Harold Whittaker would see something in Fiona, although he had shown a keen interest in her, more than she would expect. Part of her wondered if he wanted to feel her out and see if she really was worthy of working so closely with two of his finest agents.

  But it was all speculation; Fiona had no idea what was going on in the chief's head. With a nod, he left.

  Jake turned to Josie. "I'll be right back," he told her, and she nodded. Jake's brown eyes then fell on Fiona. "Hey, Red, can we talk for a second?"

  Fiona nodded, and the two of them stepped out into the hallway. There was no one else around, and Fiona fidgeted with her glasses in an attempt to mask her nerves. She didn’t know why Jake wanted to talk—things had been going so well, but hesitance was written all over his face.

 

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