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Fred's face reddened, and he swallowed hard. "I don't see what that has to do with anything," he snapped, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"Everything is relevant, Mr. Johnson," Jake interjected smoothly, moving to stand beside Fiona. "Especially when it comes to a murder investigation."
Fiona could feel Fred's anger simmering beneath the surface, but she sensed something else too—an undercurrent of fear mixed with desperation. She knew that look all too well; it was the look of a man backed into a corner.
"Listen," she said softly, her voice steady and reassuring. "We're not here to bust you for your collection. We just want to find out who killed Craig Tozer and Carrie Puglisi. If you can help us do that, then we have no reason to be concerned about what's in these cases."
Fred ran a hand through his disheveled hair, the anxiety in his eyes palpable. Fiona noticed that he was standing right in front of a door, almost like he was blocking it but trying to make it seem casual. "Look, I'm not the one you're after," he insisted, his voice wavering. "I love these creatures, but I'd never use them to hurt anyone."
"You do have quite the collection," Fiona said, unable to suppress her fascination. "I can see why you were hesitant to let us in."
"Most people don't understand," Fred replied defensively. "They think it's weird or creepy."
"I get that," Fiona said. "I'm an entomologist, actually. Harvard."
Fred's eyebrows raised, impressed, and he crossed his arms, looking genuinely interested. "Is that so? But you're working with the FBI?"
"I am," Fiona said. "But I also have a passion for insects. It's part of what draws me to cases like this, the intersection of science and justice."
Fred seemed to relax slightly, his eyes softening. "I understand that," he said. "I just... I don't want to be a suspect. I didn't do anything wrong."
"None of these insects have ever been used to harm anyone?" Jake asked, his gaze never leaving Fred's face.
"Of course not!" Fred insisted, indignation flaring in his eyes. "They're my life's work, not weapons. I don't want anyone touching their habitats, let alone releasing them to kill."
Fiona squinted her eyes at Fred. He was still refusing to move from that door.
"What is this one, Fred?" Fiona asked, pointing to a case holding a praying mantis. Fiona knew exactly what genus it was, but she was trying to probe Fred away from that door.
Fred's eyes widened, and he quickly looked away. "Oh, umm... it's a Praying Mantis," he stammered, avoiding eye contact with Fiona.
Jake stepped forward. "What's behind this door?" he asked firmly.
Fred's face paled, his fear now palpable. He backed in front of the door, shaking his head violently. "Nothing! Nothing at all."
Fiona exchanged a quick glance with Jake, and they both knew that something was off about Fred's behavior. They moved closer to him, their eyes locked on his every move. Fiona could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared for the worst.
"Fred, we need you to open that door," Jake said, his voice low and commanding. "If there's nothing to hide, then there's no reason to be afraid."
Fred's eyes darted around the room, his body tense as he tried to come up with a response. Fiona could see the fear etched on his face, and she knew that they were getting closer to the truth.
"Just open the door, please, Fred," Fiona said, her frustration coming out. "We're not leaving until we see what's inside."
Fred's face went white, and he took a step back. He seemed to make the decision quickly, and before anyone could react, he bolted towards the door in an attempt to make a run for it. Jake was faster, however, and he lunged forward, grabbing Fred by the arm and pulling him back.
"You're not going anywhere," Jake grunted as he held him firmly in place. "Let's see what you were trying to hide."
Fiona was already making her way toward the basement door.
"No!" Fred shouted. "It's--it's not what it looks like!"
Fiona's heart pounded in her chest as she glanced over at Jake, who had a tight grip on Fred's arm. The man's face was twisted with fear and anger, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Please, don't go down there!" Fred protested, struggling against Jake's iron hold. "You don't understand!"
"Save it for the interrogation room," Jake barked, his eyes never leaving Fred's face. He gave Fiona a nod, signaling that it was safe to proceed.
Taking a deep breath, Fiona descended the creaky wooden stairs into the basement, the air growing colder and damper with each step. She fought to maintain her composure, knowing that if Fred was indeed the killer they were hunting, there could be anything waiting for her in the darkness below.
