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Part of her wanted to mention Joslyn’s case to Jake. As a seasoned agent, he might have invaluable insight to add about her missing sister, but Jake was dealing with enough as it was. His mention of Lauren reminded Fiona that Lauren wasn’t here anymore, and that was clearly causing Jake stress. She was worried about him, but didn’t feel it was her place to express it.
That is, until Jake gazed out at the skyline, under the brilliant night sky, and said, “Lauren blocked my number.”
Fiona raised her eyebrows in shock. That sounded serious. “Has she ever done that before?”
“No,” Jake said. “I think she’s really gone this time.”
Fiona felt a pang of sympathy in her chest. She knew how hard it was to lose someone you cared about. She reached out and put her hand on Jake’s shoulder.
“Hey,” she said softly. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll find a way to get through this, I know you can. I’m here for you if you need anything.”
Jake nodded, his shoulders slumping. He looked at Fiona, and for a moment, it felt like he was looking into her soul. He smiled, a small but genuine smile.
“Thanks, Red,” he said. “You’re all right.”
Fiona smiled in return, her face warming, then refocused on her work. She was sure they could do this—hopefully before another victim dropped.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Trish Walker sighed as she entered her apartment, her limbs exhausted from a long night of waitressing at the diner. She must have hit a new record for catcalls this time, and the hours of putting up with rude customers and creeps had made her tired.
At least she had an empty home to come back to, even if it was small and dingy.
Trish made more money than it looked like on the surface. She was tipped well, and her rent was cheap, living in this crappy nook of Portland. But she liked to keep her finances hidden; most people in her life believed she was broke and deep in debt, but that wasn’t true.
She was saving her money. She was only twenty-five, after all, and she had a lot of time left to plan what she’d do with it. She also had to put a good chunk toward those expensive group therapy sessions, but it was worth it to get in a room with other people like her—people with phobias that distracted their day-to-day life.
Moving through her dark apartment, Trish kept her eyes peeled on the walls and ceilings for any shadow of a spider. God, she hated them. Eight creepy legs… fangs just waiting to dig into her…
She’d made great progress toward healing lately, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there were spiders everywhere. Sometimes at work, she’d see a dust mite and scream. It nearly cost her her job, at one point. The owner, Roger, was sick of her running off at the first sign of anything that might even resemble a spider.
She knew it was ridiculous. But her fear of spiders had formed when she was just a little kid.
She’d never forget when she was seven and her dad took her camping. He was trying to show her how beautiful the world was, and to teach her how to survive in the woods. But one night, she found a spider in her sleeping bag, and she screamed and ran away, deep into the woods. The darkness and fear of the unknown had consumed her. More than that, she’d run straight into a giant web and got the thick, sticky substance all over her. She’d fallen to the ground, where a giant spider had descended upon her.
Ever since then, she’d been terrified of those damn things.
But Trish was determined to keep fighting. She was going to beat this fear—no matter how hard it was. She could do it, she told herself.
Someday.
The support group really did help. There were a lot of people there with fears like hers. Some of them were more outrageous, like the guy who was afraid of pine cones, or the girl who quite literally jumped at the sight of her own shadow because she believed demons lived in it. Very strange, but Trish didn’t judge. Her fear of spiders was so intense that it had caused her to hide from nothing many times.
Finally, Trish finished her nightly routine of checking for spiders and got ready to go to bed. She put on her comfy pajamas, brushed her teeth, and washed her face. She was exhausted from a long day at work, but she still took a few moments to meditate and relax before getting into bed. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in a peaceful forest with the birds chirping and the sun shining down on her. It was so calming that she almost forgot about all of the stress of the day.
When she finally did get into bed, it felt like heaven. The sheets were soft against her skin. She snuggled up under them and let out a deep sigh as she finally allowed herself to relax. As she rolled over, she tucked her arm under her pillow—she liked the way the cool side felt.
But as she was getting settled, a sharp pain suddenly zapped her arm—like she’d been bitten. Trish screamed and pulled her arm back. Heart pounding, she turned on her bedside lamp so she could see.
On her arm were two tiny red marks.
A bite.
From what looked like a spider.
Trish’s pulse was beating so loud, she could hardly hear anything else. She looked down at her pillow. Maybe this was a nightmare, but she had to know.
Slowly, Trish lifted the pillow.
