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Mason’s skin was an ash-gray, his lips a light blue. He had taken in water, and not just from being submerged in it.
In addition to being waterlogged, Fiona noticed a few other signs that pointed to drowning. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were dilated, a telltale sign of oxygen deprivation. His face was swollen, and his tongue was protruding from his mouth. He had foam around the edges of his lips, another sign of water in his lungs.
Fiona checked the inside of Mason’s mouth for any traces of vomit, but it was clean.
From what she could clearly see, Mason had died of drowning. But how does one drown in their bathtub? She looked closer, for any signs that he had been forcefully held. It was hard to tell if someone had held his head underwater since his hair was not matted thanks to being submerged in the liquid. Fiona flipped the body over anyway, checking along the back of his neck, then into his hairline.
There was a faint red mark…
It was clear that someone had held Mason’s head underwater and forced him to drown. It was a gruesome thought, but the evidence was undeniable. Mason’s death was no accident; he had been murdered.
But it didn’t make any sense. The same killer of the other two victims left his calling card, and yet the MO was entirely different. Fiona turned away from the body, not wanting to look at it anymore.
She felt she should be doing better than this, but with this third victim, she knew less than ever before.
***
Jake waited in the hallway at the morgue for Fiona to come out and give the verdict on Mason Monroe’s cause of death. This was stumping Jake as much as it was Fiona, and he just hoped she’d come out of there with some kind of answer.
The first two manners of killing were easily linked. Hornets and spiders? As far as Jake was concerned, those were all bugs.
But they didn’t find any bugs or anything like that at Mason’s. Hopefully Fiona had some good news.
He stood at attention when the door opened, and Fiona stalked out, sulking. Oh no—Jake didn’t like the look of that.
They stood in a tense silence for a moment before Fiona said, “I can’t find any sign of any insect bite or anything like that. I did find evidence that someone had held him underwater and drowned him.”
“What?” Jake’s stomach sank. That made even less sense. “But the MO is completely different.”
“I know,” Fiona murmured. “I wish I had more, but… that’s all I can see.”
Jake shook his head. “That’s not right. Something’s missing here. There has to be a connection.”
“There has to be,” Fiona said. “We just haven’t found it yet.”
The two went silent, staring at the floor. There was something they were missing, something that was right in front of them but they just couldn’t see it.
What could possibly link Mason’s death to the others? It seemed impossible, even for Jake. At that moment, he wished he had Lauren with him to brainstorm. They had always worked so flawlessly together, and this was his first real case without her.
He felt bad for thinking it; Fiona was doing her best, and she was a valuable asset to the FBI, no doubt. But Jake just couldn’t shake this feeling of emptiness.
They didn’t have anything to go off now, except for a new victim. Maybe that was where they needed to focus their efforts.
Jake sighed and faced Fiona. “Let’s go talk to Mason’s family.”
Fiona nodded, and the two of them headed out. They drove to Mason’s mother’s house in silence, both lost in their own thoughts as they tried to make sense of it all. The sun was setting as they pulled up to the address, a small house on a quiet street.
The exterior was well kept and there were flowers blooming in the garden beds, but the windows were shuttered and dark. Jake couldn’t imagine what this family must be going through, knowing that their son had been murdered.
He and Fiona stepped out of the car, walking up to the front door with heavy hearts.Jake noted that there were no cars in the driveway; Mason’s family wasn’t home yet. He rang the bell anyway, just in case someone was inside.
After a few moments, the door opened, and a middle-aged woman with brown and gray hair answered, looking like she’d been through hell and back, her face drawn with exhaustion.
“Can I help you?” she croaked.
“Good evening, ma’am,” Jake said. “I’m Special Agent Jake Tucker with the FBI, and this is my partner, Fiona Red. Are you Francine Monroe, Mason’s mother?”
The woman nodded, her eyes full of pain. “Yes… I’m assuming you’re here to talk about what happened to him.”
