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"We need to ask you a few questions," Jake said.
Eric's eyes darted nervously between the two agents. "About what?"
"About Sharon French," Jake said. "We understand that you were scheduled to go to her house today but were sent on a different job. Do you know anything about what happened to her?"
Eric's face went pale. "No, I don't know anything about that. I swear."
"Then why didn't you answer your phone when Mr. Anderson tried to call you?" Fiona asked.
Eric shrugged. "I was busy with another job. I didn't hear it ring... just who are you, anyway?"
Jake held up his FBI badge, and that was when Eric's eyes widened, his face suddenly pale as ice.
"Maybe you should come with us," Jake said.
But before he could even react--Eric made a run for it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Fiona's heart thundered in her chest, her feet moving on autopilot as she chased after Eric Alvarez. He was surprisingly tall and fast, not to mention nimble--even with his heavy clothing, he hurled himself over the backyard fence with ease and escaped to the street.
"Stop! FBI!" Jake shouted, but Eric kept running.
Fiona did too. Her legs burned, and she dashed up to the fence. She certainly was no expert at jumping fences, but Jake appeared behind her.
"Here," he said, offering her a boost.
Fiona quickly took it. They had to be fast. She placed her foot on Jake's interlocked hands, and he pushed her up, giving her enough momentum to reach the top of the fence and pull herself over. She landed on the other side, and the moment her feet touched the grass, she was running yet again.
She could hear Jake close behind her, his footsteps echoing over the concrete sidewalk. Up ahead, Eric darted up the street like his life depended on it, barreling past an elderly woman walking her dog. This neighborhood seemed nice and quiet--not exactly a place for the FBI to be chasing down a possible serial killer--but here they were.
They were gaining on him fast. Fiona felt her heart pounding in her chest as she ran, her eyes fixed on Eric's back. She could hear the sound of his breaths, harsh and ragged, as he tried to put distance between them. She could see the fear in his eyes when he glanced back, the way his body shook as he ran, and she knew that he was terrified. But she also knew that they couldn't let him get away.
Fiona pushed herself harder, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Eric picked up speed, veering around another corner.
Fiona and Jake followed him, their eyes glued to his figure as he darted down the street and ducked into an alleyway. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She could feel the sweat on her forehead as they closed in on Eric, their footsteps echoing in the narrow alley.
They found him backed up against a brick wall, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. Fiona and Jake stood in front of him, Jake with his gun out and trained on Eric.
"Please...don't shoot," Eric wheezed out, his voice choked with fear.
Jake took a step closer, his eyes locked onto Eric's. "Tell us what you know about Sharon French."
Eric's eyes darted around the alley, his body tense. "I don't know anything," he said in a trembling voice.
Jake moved closer. "Don't lie to us. We know you had a scheduled appointment with her.”
Eric's mouth twitched nervously. "I did. But...I didn't go."
"Why not?" Fiona asked, her breaths still ragged.
"Because my boss--he said she was dead! He saw it on the news! Obviously, we had to cancel!"
"And what do you know about her death, Eric?" Jake asked.
"Nothing!" Eric exclaimed. "Seriously. Nothing! I never even met her!"
Fiona studied Eric's face, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth. His eyes were wide and scared, and his skin had paled even further. He didn't look like someone who was lying--but then again, appearances could be deceiving.
