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"Okay, okay," Eric said, his hands trembling slightly. "I was at another client's house. Mrs. Henderson on Elm Street. I was working on her garden for most of the afternoon."
"Can anyone confirm that?" Fiona inquired, her eyes narrowing as she tried to read Eric's face.
"Yeah, yeah, of course! Mrs. Henderson herself. She even made me some lemonade while I was working. You can ask her," Eric insisted, desperation gripping his voice.
Fiona and Jake shared another glance. They could tell that Eric was desperate to be believed, but they needed more than just his word.
"Please," Eric implored, his eyes wide with fear. "You have to believe me. I'm not a killer. I'm just a thief. I steal from clients, and I know it's wrong, but--I'd never hurt anyone. I was at Mrs. Henderson's all day. Martha Henderson. You can call her!"
Fiona and Jake exchanged another look. There was a possibility that Eric was telling the truth, but they couldn't be sure yet.
"Alright, Eric," Fiona said, her voice softer now. "We'll check with Mrs. Henderson and see if your story checks out. But until then, you're not off the hook just yet."
Eric nodded, his eyes still filled with tears. Fiona and Jake left the room, closing the door behind them, leaving Eric alone with his thoughts. Fiona couldn't shake the feeling that something still wasn't adding up. Her gut told her there was more to this story than what Eric was saying, but they'd need solid proof to connect him to Sharon's death.
"Let's talk to Mrs. Henderson," Jake suggested the urgency in his voice evident. "If he's lying, we need to find out as soon as possible."
"Agreed," Fiona replied, her mind already racing with possibilities. But deep down, she knew that finding the truth wouldn't be easy. The tension in the air was palpable, and the foreboding sense of unease only grew stronger as they prepared to delve deeper into the investigation.
Jake pulled out his phone, dialing Martha Henderson's number. He hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button. Fiona watched with bated breath.
"Hello?" came the cautious answer from the other end of the line. Fiona could faintly hear Martha's voice, and she realized she was standing close to Jake, close enough to smell his woody cologne. Her cheeks flushed, and she backed away.
"Mrs. Henderson, this is Agent Jake Tucker with the FBI," he began, keeping his tone professional and steady.
"Oh, my," Mrs. Henderson said, "is everything okay?"
"We understand that you hired Insect Away Home to work on your house," Jake said.
"Oh, yes! Eric was fabulous."
Fiona's heart dropped, and she exchanged a look with Jake.
"When was Eric there, ma'am?" Jake asked.
"Why, he was here yesterday," she said. "The kind dear stayed long after he was done with the work. I guess he could tell I was a lonely old woman. He helped me with chores around the house, and then we spent the afternoon working on a puzzle together. Why do you ask--is Eric okay?"
"Did he ever leave at all?" Jake asked.
"Not that I recall, no," she said. "Not until four p.m."
Which was long after the plumber found Sharon dead.
Fiona grits her teeth. It looked like Eric's alibi may have checked out. But she couldn't help but feel angry at the concept of Eric spending time with Martha under the guise of niceness when he was probably just stealing.
"Thank you, Mrs. Henderson," Jake said. "That's all we needed to know for now. We'll be in touch if we need further information."
Jake hung up, and silence spread between Fiona and Jake.
If Eric truly had been with Mrs. Henderson all day, then their strongest lead had just vanished into thin air.
"Now, what do we do?" Fiona asked, exhausted already.
Jake sighed. "Time to look into Pest Control Pros."
CHAPTER NINE
The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a deep, inky blue. Jake's car lights sliced through the gloom as he pulled up to the house of the exterminator who worked for Pest Control Pros--the man who allegedly had been scheduled to work at Glen's house but never showed.
