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"Sir, we've finished searching Mr. Ackerman's house," the officer reported, his expression grim. "There's no trace of poison anywhere and nothing to suggest he knew any of the victims. We've looked up and down and haven't found anything."
"Damn it," Jake muttered under his breath, his fists clenched at his sides. "I still think he's our guy. We just need more evidence."
But Fiona's doubts only deepened, her chest tightening with dread. If they were wrong about Teddy, then the real killer was still out there, poised to strike again. Another innocent life hung in the balance, and time was running out.
"Jake," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the floor, "we need to consider the possibility that Teddy isn't our man."
"Are you kidding me? He's a perfect fit," Jake protested, his frustration evident.
"Sometimes things aren't as simple as they seem," Fiona replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can't let tunnel vision blind us to the truth. There's a killer out there, and we need to find them before it's too late." She looked up at Jake, trying to appear as confident as possible. "I've been right before. You know that."
Jake's gaze softened, his resolve seeming to waver. "I know that," he admitted. "But what do we do now? We've searched every lead, and we still don't have any real evidence."
Fiona's mind raced, trying to think of another angle they could pursue. There had to be something else, something she hadn't thought of yet.
Jake let out a sigh. "Look--I'm gonna keep talking to him, see if he slips up. You go ahead and keep searching for something else, Red, and come to me if you find anything concrete."
Fiona nodded. Jake had to follow his own gut, too; she knew that. But she had to follow hers.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Fiona sat alone in the precinct's briefing room in the glow of her laptop. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic tapping of her fingers on the keyboard as she delved further into her research. She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was more to the case than they had discovered so far.
"Let's see... Insect Away Home," Fiona muttered under her breath, the words almost swallowed by the emptiness of the room around her. "Come on, there has to be something here."
She recalled that the pest control company kept records of the people they provided quotes for, even if they never actually performed any services for them. And Glen Hartwell, one of the victims, had only called Insect Away Home for a quote – nothing more.
Her mind raced with possibilities, her intuition guiding her through countless thoughts and theories. Fiona had always trusted her gut, and right now, it was urging her to dig deeper. She knew Jake would want concrete evidence before she brought anything to his attention. After all, she had been wrong before, too--and he wasn't sure where this would lead her. Maybe nowhere.
Jake could wait, she decided, shutting her laptop with determination. Something in her wanted to go to the Hartwell residence and see if there was anything they missed, something only Glen or his wife would know about.
Gathering her belongings, Fiona left the briefing room with renewed purpose. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way through the bustling precinct, her mind already racing ahead to the questions she would ask Glen's widow. She went up to the desk, and the doe-eyed receptionist looked up at her.
"Is there a car I can borrow?" Fiona asked.
The girl blinked. "Well--yes, Ms. Red, but aren't you with Agent Tucker?"
"I am, but I need to do something on my own."
The receptionist nodded. "Let me see what I can get for you."
A few minutes later, Fiona was behind the wheel of a nondescript police cruiser, her mind racing with possibilities. She tried to push aside her doubts and focus on the task at hand. She had to find something, anything, that would help them catch the killer.
As she drove through the quiet streets, her thoughts turned to Glen Hartwell and his widow. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to lose a spouse to such a heinous crime. She hoped that her visit wouldn't cause any more pain to the grieving widow. She thought about her parents and their reaction when she'd told them Joslyn might still be alive--they had taken it better than she had thought they would, and they seemed to be managing their expectations too. But Fiona hoped it wouldn't bring more pain to her family, just as she hoped her visit to the Hartwells would give her answers and validate this nagging feeling she had.
***
Fiona stood at the imposing entrance of the Hartwell mansion. It felt like a lifetime ago that she'd been here with Jake, but it had only been yesterday. She raised a hand and knocked on the door, the sound echoing through the quiet afternoon air. After a moment, the door creaked open to reveal Cate, Glen's widow. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and she looked as if she hadn't slept in days.
"Oh, it's... you," Cate said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You were with the FBI agent the other day."
"Yes, it's Fiona Red," Fiona said, although it didn't go past her that Cate had mostly remembered Jake. Fiona's heart sank; she hoped when she had her own gun and badge, she would earn the respect that came with it. Either way, she was still working with the FBI, and she was here. "May I come in?" Fiona asked gently.
Cate hesitated, her gaze flicking back towards the interior of the house before she reluctantly stepped aside. "Of course."
As Fiona entered, she caught sight of the Hartwell children playing in the backyard through the window. A pang of sympathy tore through her chest; they were so young, so innocent, and they had just lost their father.
"Is there something new about Glen's case?" Cate inquired, her voice laced with both hope and dread.
