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"Understood," Jake finally said, his voice tight. He ended the call and looked at Fiona, his eyes dark with concern. "They've found another body."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fiona stood at the edge of the police tape, the rain pelting her face as she surveyed the small home. It was considerably smaller than the two homes they'd visited previously; with its unkempt garden and shanty windows, she got the sense this victim was truly different from the other two. She hugged herself over her clothing, the damp seeping into her bones and only heightening the chill that ran down her spine. Jake was beside her, a somber expression etched on his face.
"Roger Gray, sixty-eight," Jake muttered, glancing over at Fiona. "Another homeowner killed in their own home."
"Poison again?" Fiona asked, unable to keep the unease from her voice.
"Seems that way." He nodded grimly.
Fiona bit her lip, trying to piece together the puzzle that lay before them. What was the motive? Why were these people being targeted? Each layer of the case seemed to reveal another enigma to be solved. Each victim was so different from the last, and this sixty-eight-year-old man posed so many new questions.
"Let's take a look," Jake said, leading her under the police tape and toward the house.
Inside, the scene was somber. Officers moved with practiced efficiency, cataloging evidence and gathering information. In the midst of the activity, Roger Gray's body lay still on the floor, just outside his pantry. His lifeless form looked almost peaceful, if not for the unnatural angle of his limbs, splayed out across the bubbling linoleum floor. Fiona noticed a trail of ants along the edge of the room, moving through the grout. If he had called an exterminator as the other two victims had--had it been for these?
Fiona crouched near the body, examining it closely. There were no visible signs of trauma, but something about the position of the victim's throat made her pause. "I think there might be some trauma to the throat," she murmured to Jake. "The other two victims had it too. We'll need the coroner's report to confirm."
Jake's brow furrowed in thought. "Why him, though? What's the connection?"
Fiona glanced at the ants, subtly nodding at them. "Maybe he called pest control."
"Maybe," he said. "Let's take a look around."
The rain pelting against the windows of Roger's home filled the air with a drumming beat, echoing through the rooms. Fiona and Jake moved further into the house, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpets. The scent of something musty hung in the damp air, mixed with the sharp tang of cleaning chemicals from the police investigators at work.
"If the killer was here, how did he get in?" Jake said as they approached the open back door. Cool air drifted in from outside, carrying the scent of wet earth and crushed grass.
Just then: "That door was left open."
They turned to see a young woman in a police uniform, her expression. tight.
"Neighbor found him this morning, called it in," she said. "It seems he was killed during the night, as the neighbor said they saw Roger watching TV through his curtains at eight p.m., very much alive. Then, this morning, she saw the back door was open and decided to look into it. A damn shame."
Something about the way the officer looked around the room was tense, as though she'd been here before. "Did you know this man?" Fiona asked.
The officer hesitated, her gaze flickering to the body on the floor before returning to Fiona. "Yeah," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I grew up next door to him. He was quite the curmudgeon, had a reputation for being cranky with the kids, especially, but he was always nice to me."
Fiona nodded, taking note of the officer's personal connection to the victim.
"Did he have any enemies?" Jake asked, his eyes scanning the room for any clues.
The officer shook her head. "Not that I know of. He mostly kept to himself and didn't really interact with anyone much. I figured this was a clear heart-attack case until my boss informed me of the other murders that have been happening in town." She looked down at Roger's body across the room. "I hope you find who's doing this."
Fiona nodded in agreement, her heart pounding with anticipation. They would find the killer. Butwhen?A man had already senselessly lost his life while Fiona had been dreaming. It wasn't right. They needed to move faster.
As she scanned the room, something caught her eye--a flier on the kitchen counter. Something about the vibrant green and red graphic caught her eye, sparking familiarity. She stepped up to it and grabbed it--only to see a familiar name across the page.
"Jake, look at this." She held up the flier, her hand trembling.
He took it from her, scanning the text quickly before looking back up at Fiona. "Insect Away Home."
Fiona bit her lip, her mind racing. They had initially suspected Eric Alvarez from the company but had cleared him. Yet here was another victim with a connection to Insect Away Home. Was it just a coincidence, or were they somehow involved? After all, Glen Hartwell hadn't called Insect Away Home--he'd called Pest Control Pros. But Sharon did call them, and it was looking like Roger did too.
The connection was too strong to ignore.
"Could we have been wrong?" she whispered, voicing her fears. "Is Insect Away Home not as innocent as we thought?"
