AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Owen Peterson had been released from prison only two weeks ago.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The sun was a blazing ember in the sky as Jake pulled up to Owen Peterson's run-down bungalow on the outskirts of town. He parked the car, studying the peeling paint and overgrown yard. Owen had recently been released from jail, and with no job to his name, it seemed he had little motivation to maintain any semblance of normalcy.
"Let's hope he's home," Fiona said, her voice tense as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
Jake nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. They stepped out of the car, their shoes crunching on the neglected gravel pathway. He rapped firmly on the door, straining to hear any movement inside. Only silence greeted them.
"Owen Peterson! Open up, this is the FBI!" Jake called out, his voice commanding and authoritative. Still, there was no response.
"Maybe a neighbor has seen him," Fiona suggested, her eyes scanning the row of houses for signs of life.
Together, they approached the house next door, where an elderly woman tended to her flowerbeds. She looked up at the sound of their footsteps, her wary gaze flickering between Jake and Fiona.
"Excuse me, ma'am," Jake began, flashing her a reassuring smile. "We're looking for Owen Peterson. Have you seen him?"
The woman hesitated, a crease forming on her brow. "He ain't been the same since he got out of prison," she admitted, glancing uneasily towards Owen's house. "Keeps to himself mostly, never says hello. Started going to therapy, I heard."
"Therapy?" Fiona asked, her interest piqued.
"Dr. Eleanor Jensen," the woman replied, wiping her dirt-streaked hands on her apron. "I don't know much else, but it seems like he goes there pretty often. Strange man, that Owen."
"Strange how?" Jake pressed his pulse, racing. So far, it sounded like Owen fit the bill--but where was he?
The woman shook her head, her eyes darting towards Owen's bungalow once again. "Just...not right. He had been like that since he was a boy. He always kept to himself and never made friends. Used to hear him howling at night, like a wild animal."
Jake exchanged a glance with Fiona, his mind racing with possibilities. "Owen grew up here? Before he went to prison?"
"Oh, yes," the woman said. "I've lived here all my life. He used to know his mama before she passed; God rest her soul. Owen was always a weird one. He went away for a few years, leaving his house to gain neglect, and now he's back. But I'm at least happy to know he's being treated by a therapist."
As the woman went back to tending to her garden, Jake and Fiona exchanged a look, both of them thinking the same thing. If Owen was indeed going to therapy, it might be their best chance of finding him.
"Let's go," Jake said, already heading back towards their car. "We'll try to track down this Eleanor Jensen and see if she can give us any information."
Fiona nodded, following him closely. "Do you think she'll talk to us?" she asked, her voice low.
Jake shrugged. "We'll have to charm her, I guess."
As they returned to the car, Fiona's expression was troubled. "If Owen is attending therapy, there might be more going on than we thought."
"Could be," Jake mused, his thoughts already shifting gears as he considered their next move. "But whatever it is, we need to find him before it's too late."
Jake felt an uneasy sensation in the pit of his stomach as if a storm was brewing just out of sight.
***
The dimly lit reception area of Dr. Eleanor Jensen's office had a warm atmosphere, inviting even; with the pleasant smell of a candle burning, Jake could see this as a good place to heal. Jake couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he approached the receptionist's desk.
"Can I help you?" asked the young woman behind the counter, her eyes uncertainly flitting from Jake's face to the FBI badge he held up.
"Agent Jake Tucker, FBI," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. He knew being too brash could turn people off, but too much charisma could trigger red flags in a person's mind too. "My partner and I are looking for Owen Peterson. We heard he had an appointment here today."
The receptionist hesitated, biting her lip. "I'm not really allowed to give out that information, sir..."
"Listen," Jake began, softening his voice ever so slightly, "we're just trying to find him before something bad happens. We can come back with a warrant, but that's gonna take a lot of time and let's just say the case we're investigating has pretty high stakes. Can you help us?"
After a moment of tense silence, she relented. "I mean, I guess... if it's... okay, Dr. Jensen just left for the day, but... yes, Owen had an appointment earlier. He always walks home, even though it's a long way."
