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“Mr. Wilkins?” Jake called out, knocking again. “This is the FBI. I need to talk to you.”
Still no answer.
Jake’s suspicions grew as he waited, glancing at Fiona. “On second thought, maybe you should wait in the car, Red,” he said. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
But stubborn as always, Fiona shook her head. “No, I’ll stay right here. I might not be an amazing fighter, but I can still have your back and warn you if I see anything.”
Jake sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to change her mind. He knocked one last time and then stepped back.
Suddenly, something smashed inside the house. It sounded like glass breaking, followed by a woman’s scream. Jake pounded on the door again—someone could be hurt inside.
“FBI! Open up!” he shouted.
But it was no use—they weren’t answering.
He had to go in.
Jake took a breath. “Fiona, stay here. I’m serious. I’m going in.”
Fiona went to say something, but was cut off by Jake stomping the door in with his foot. Pain reverberated through his muscles, but he had to break in.
The door flew open and Jake stepped inside. In the center of the room was an old woman, standing in shock next to a broken vase. She had short gray hair and wore a simple dress; her face was pale with fear.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” Jake said carefully, stepping closer.
The woman nodded slowly, her eyes wide with terror. “Yes…yes, I’m fine,” she managed to say in a shaky voice. “Mr. Wilkins, he… I’m only his housekeeper, but he wouldn’t let me answer the door, then he…”
“Where did he go?” Jake asked.
The woman shrugged. “I—I don’t know!”
Frustrated, Jake looked around. Wilkins had to be here somewhere.
It was then Jake noticed the décor of the house.
The walls were adorned with pieces of amber containing various specimens of insects, both large and small, some with wings fully outstretched, others curled up in a ball.This guy was clearly obsessed with bugs—more so than even Fiona.
As he moved to the living room, he saw an even larger insect collection—and not all of them were dead.
The living room was filled with large tanks and terrariums, some containing small insects like ants and butterflies, while others held creatures much larger than he had ever seen before. Some skittered around the walls of the tanks, while others clung to glass, their multi-colored wings standing out against the darkness of the room. There were also strange jars filled with yellow liquid and creatures floating inside, the fluid obscuring their grotesque features.
Jake felt sick to his stomach. This was getting too weird for him. All of these bugs were seriously starting to disturb him.
But personal feelings aside, the man they were looking for murdered Senator Barlow with giant hornets, and this guy happened to be one of his golf buddies. A guy with this many bugs could surely access those hornets if he wanted to.
Jake had to find him.
Just then, a shout from outside—coming from Fiona. Jake looked to the front door—but Fiona was gone.
He ran outside, searching for any sign of her. But it was too late—she had already disappeared. He cursed himself for not making sure she stayed put. If Fiona got hurt on his watch, it would be the end for him.
Then he heard it:
“Stop!”
Fiona’s voice.
Jake chased after her in its direction, running into the massive garden along the side of the house, surrounded by hedges. The morning sun was bright in Jake’s eyes, but he pushed forward, fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins.
