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"We understand that, Mr. Anderson," Fiona said. "That's why we're here, to find out if any of your employees could have accessed the chemical that was used to kill Sharon. I understand you are Cyphaclide certified."
Anderson leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "Well, we do have some employees who have been with us for a long time, and we trust them implicitly. But I suppose it's possible that someone could have done something without our knowledge. Getting certified to use Cyphaclide was no easy task. Our boys were rigorously looked into, background checks and all. None of them are criminals."
Jake listened closely, watching for any signs of deception from Anderson. He couldn't help but feel like the man was hiding something, even if he appeared to be cooperating. Jake and Fiona exchanged a look. They had heard that before from countless suspects who had later turned out to be anything but innocent.
"Do you have the name of the employee who was scheduled to work at Sharon's house?" Jake asked.
Anderson nodded. "Yes, I can pull that up for you on my computer. Just a moment." He turned to his computer and clacked away at the keyboard. After a few moments, he said, "It looks like our guy Eric Alvarez was scheduled to visit Ms. French today, but obviously, that can't happen, so we sent him out on another call."
Jake and Fiona exchanged another look. "Do you know where he is now?" Fiona asked.
Anderson shrugged. "I'm not sure, maybe at the client's house. Let me see if I can get in touch with him." He picked up his phone and dialed a number, waiting for a few moments before hanging up with a frown. "No answer," he said. "That's odd. He's usually very reliable."
Jake leaned forward. "Do you have the client's address?"
Anderson hesitated. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Agent. Eric is a good employee; I don't want to send you on a wild goose chase."
Fiona cut in. "Mr. Anderson, we need to investigate every lead and follow every possible avenue. We're not saying Eric is responsible, but he's someone we need to talk to. Please, can you give us the address?"
"You don't have a warrant," Anderson pushed back.
"I can easily get one," Jake said, "but I have to say, your hesitance isn't looking good for you right now. Maybe you know more about this than you're letting on."
A bead of sweat formed on Anderson's forehead. "N-no, I don't... I just don't know about giving out this information."
Jake leaned back in his chair, watching as Anderson squirmed under his gaze. "Look, Mr. Anderson, we're not asking for anything unreasonable here. We just want to talk to Eric and see if he has any information about what happened to Sharon. If he's innocent, then there's nothing to worry about. But if he's not, we need to find out before he hurts anyone else."
Anderson sighed, defeated. "Fine, I'll give you the address. But I'm telling you, this is a waste of your time." He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Jake.
Jake and Fiona stood up, ready to leave. "Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Anderson," Fiona said with a polite smile.
"Yeah, thanks," Jake said, his tone less friendly. He couldn't shake the feeling that Anderson knew more than he was letting on. But there was only one way to find out for sure.
***
The drive to the address Anderson had given them was uneventful, but the sense of unease that had been building inside Jake since they first arrived at Insect Away Home was only building.
As they approached the house, Jake spotted a familiar van in the driveway. He instantly recognized the logo of Insect Away Home on the side. "That's Eric's van," he said, pointing it out to Fiona.
Fiona nodded. "Looks like Anderson wasn't lying after all," she said with a sigh.
Jake parked. They both got out of the car and cautiously approached the house, their eyes scanning for any sign of movement. But all was quiet and still; apart from Eric's van, there was no indication that anyone was home at all.
The home reminded Jake of Sharon's--tiny but well-manicured. Its modest exterior was painted a light blue, with the trim and shutters a bright white. The lawn was neatly trimmed with lush green grass, and a few small flowerbeds lined the front steps. The windows were shining in the afternoon sun, and the front door was freshly painted a deep red. It seemed that the person who lived here took good care of their home, and Jake's gut twisted at the idea of them already being too late.
He knocked on the door, but no one answered. He tuned his ears to the sounds of the street--cicadas buzzing, a sprinkler at another house, and then...
A hum and a spray.
It sounded like it was coming from behind the house.
Jake shot Fiona a look. "I think he's working in the backyard."
Fiona nodded and followed Jake as they made their way around the house. As they got closer, they could see Eric hunched over, spraying something onto a small tree. He seemed to be very focused on his task, not noticing their approach. He was wearing a white jumpsuit and a mask obscuring his face.
"Eric Alvarez?" Jake called out, his voice echoing over the yard.
Eric turned around and removed his mask, revealing a young man with dark hair and wide, startled eyes. "Oh, hey," he said, his tone defensive. "What are you doing here?"
