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Which made it all the more confusing for her. This man—Gerald Wilkins—was clearly an insect enthusiast, and yet he had also been charged with having an underground bug fighting ring, one of the most exploitative and cruel things a human could do to these often misunderstood creatures. Fiona reminded herself not to be fooled by appearances; Gerald could very well be the man who had planted the killer hornets in Senator Barlow’s home.
On top of that, there were a lot of insects here that weren’t exactly legal to obtain. If some of these got out, they could become an invasive species and wreak havoc on ecosystems.
But Fiona didn’t spot any giant hornets, so she went to sit beside Jake on the couch opposite Gerald, who was still dramatically rubbing his wrists. Fiona was in pain too—when she’d chased after him, she didn’t even know she had that much in her. She’d been running on pure adrenaline, and it was a lot more crucial for her to run here than it was during her high school fitness tests, which she’d always tragically failed.
Something felt different now. She supposed the mind really was everything, wasn’t it? She’d faced off against two killers, even shot one of them (non-fatally, of course, and it had been a pretty bad shot, but a shot nonetheless).
And now she’d chased down and gotten a suspect. Her confidence in herself was growing, and she felt more than ever that she wanted to put on some physical strength and take on some intense FBI training. She could do it if her mind was up for it.
“Look,” Gerald said, “I don’t know what this is all about. Chris—Senator Barlow—was one of my best friends. We’ve been golfing together for years.”
“And were you aware of his allergy?” Jake asked.
“Allergy to what?” Gerald said. “He was definitely allergic to bullshit, if that’s what you mean.” He laughed once.
But neither Jake nor Fiona was smiling. This wasn’t the time for jokes.
“Did you know about his allergy?” Jake pressed.
Gerald looked around the room, then sighed. “I knew the guy was deathly afraid of bees. Any time one of them got near us on a course, he’d lose his mind. He was allergic and carried an EpiPen, and everyone on the damn field knew about it, because he made sure we did in case he ever got stung.”
“So you knew he was allergic,” Jake said, “and you also happen to have a strange affinity for collecting weird insects.” He gestured around the room. “Senator Barlow wasn’t killed by bees, Mr. Wilkins. Someone released Asian giant hornets into his home.”
“From Japan,” Fiona added. “The ones found in Mr. Barlow’s home were a genus from Japan.”
“So, Japanese giant hornets, then,” Wilkins said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Chris was allergic to all bees, wasps, and hornets. Yellow jackets. All of them. Why would I go through the trouble of getting an exotic, beautiful species of hornet not commonly found here just to waste them killing someone, when I could have just released a hive full of ordinary wasps in his house?”
Fiona glanced at Jake. Wilkins had a point, of course, and that was a question Fiona had as well. But it didn’t make Wilkins innocent.
“That’s why it’s notable,” Fiona said. “You are an exotic insect keeper. You have many here—many of which are illegal, I may add. I’m sure you could easily access those hornets.”
“True, but I didn’t,” Wilkins said. “I had no reason to want Chris dead. He was my buddy.”
Fiona watched him carefully. There was something in his voice that told her he was telling the truth.
“Well, then,” Jake said, “we’ll just have to ask you a few more questions and see if we can find out if you’re telling the truth.”
Wilkins crossed his arms. “Go ahead.”
“Why did you run?” Jake asked.
Wilkins pointed around the room. “I thought you were here to bust me for my beautiful collection, like you feds did with my—” He stopped himself, but Fiona knew he was referring to his underground fighting ring. “Well, you probably know what,” Wilkins said. “I panicked, okay? Then that red-head there”—he gestured his thumb at Fiona, making her feel patronized—“started chasing after me like a gazelle. What was I supposed to do? She kind of scared me.”
Fiona glowered. She had never thought of herself as “scary” before.
Jake cleared his throat. “We need to determine if you had anything to do with the hornets being placed in Senator Barlow’s home. Do you have any idea who might have done it?”
Wilkins shook his head. “I wish I did. Chris was a well-liked guy—lots of people respected him and his work, despite what the public and the media might have said.”
Fiona and Jake glanced at each other. It seemed that Wilkins was telling the truth to Fiona, though they were still no closer to finding out who had actually done this. Jake was clearly not buying it though.
“Do you have any hornets here?” Jake asked. “Do you keep them?”
Wilkins went quiet, avoiding their eyes.
“We’re going to search your house anyway,” Jake said. “The police are on their way to deal with your little ‘collection’ here. You might as well tell us where they are. If you’re truly innocent, then Ms. Red here will be able to determine if your hornets are related to the ones found at the senator’s home.”
Wilkins’s eyes flashed to Fiona’s. “You know insects?”
