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He took another sip of his whiskey and let out a heavy sigh. There were so many cases like Fiona's sister Joslyn, so many missing people who never returned home. It was a sickening reality, one that Jake had dedicated his life to trying to solve.
He reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Fiona's name. His thumb hesitated over the call button. He wanted to sit with her, to talk it all out and get up to speed, but part of him was hesitant. He couldn't deny that he had feelings for her, but he also knew that he had to keep things professional. Their job was too important to risk it all for a potential relationship, and he'd been down that road before with his last partner, Lauren Price. Their on-again, off-again romance had messed with Jake's head, and he didn't blame Lauren for getting transferred.
He couldn't make the same mistake with Fiona. Not unless he could truly commit, and vice versa.
He put his phone down, deciding not to call. When Fiona was ready to talk to him about her sister, he knew she would. He turned back to the photo album.
But as he flipped through the photo book, he couldn't help but think about all the families who had lost loved ones at the hands of serial killers. He knew the pain all too well, and he wanted to make sure that no one else had to experience that same level of heartache.
That's why he became an FBI agent. He wanted to make a difference and protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
He knew Fiona felt the same way, which made her a great candidate for becoming an official agent.
She had inspired him to start thinking about his mother's killer again.
He'd looked into him before, but all police and FBI leads led nowhere. Dead end after dead end.
But he had a feeling it was time to take another look. Maybe there was something they missed. He had a hunch that the killer was still out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike again. He couldn't let that happen. Then again, it had been fifteen years--maybe it already had.
Jake poured himself another glass of whiskey, trying to calm his nerves. He had to be careful. He couldn't let his personal vendetta cloud his judgment as an FBI agent. He had to work on the case with a clear head and a focused mind.
He took a deep breath, trying to push his emotions aside and focus on the facts. He needed to start from the beginning, to go over everything he knew about his mother's murder, and maybe he could find a new lead.
Jake took another sip of his whiskey and set the photobook aside.
Fiona was persistent in her quest for answers.
Maybe Jake could start doing the same thing.
***
A two-story home made of red brick spread before Fiona, its angled roof reaching into the early morning sky.
It had been a while since Fiona had visited her parents.
She stood on the lawn, damp blades of grass tickling her feet as a warm summer breeze blew in. It had been a few months since Fiona had seen her parents in person. She didn't want to get their hopes up, but this new information about Joslyn was something they deserved to know. She didn't want them to hear it from police officers or FBI personnel calling them--she had to tell them herself.
There was a chance that Joslyn was alive.
There was a chance they were going to find the man who took her.
After ten years with no leads on why her sister vanished from the beach that day, Fiona needed her parents to know, as difficult as it may be.
Although her parents owned and ran a funeral home, with her father being the mortician and her mother the funeral director, the house Fiona grew up in was lively and warm. She walked up to the front door and took a breath, preparing herself to knock.
Just as she was about to, the front door flew open, and her parents stood there with wide eyes and open arms.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" her mother asked, pulling her in for a tight embrace. Fiona got her red hair from her mother, and she was swallowed by her curly, auburn locks that smelled of flowery perfume. For a moment, Fiona was frozen, accepting her mother's embrace. Her mom pulled away. "Did you want to get some breakfast? We weren't expecting you!"
Fiona swallowed, nerves building. But she had to explain why she was here, and she didn't want to beat around the bush.
"I...I have some news. About Joslyn," Fiona managed to say, her throat tight with emotion.
Her father's face fell, and he shook his head. Unlike Fiona's mother, her father had dark hair that reminded her more of Joslyn. He had kind blue eyes and a regal air about him that often made people surprised to know he was a mortician. "Please don't tell us that they found her body," he said quietly.
Fiona shook her head, a glimmer of hope in her heart. "No, they haven't found her yet. But I have a lead. And it's a good one."
Her parents exchanged a hopeful look, but Fiona could see the pain and sadness etched on their faces. They had been through so much, and the pain of losing a child never truly went away.
