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Her fingers danced over the keys of her phone, hesitating for only a moment before she found the number she was looking for. With one final steadying breath, she pressed the call button and brought the device to her ear. The line rang once, twice – then his voice filled her ears, deep and familiar.
"Jake," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "It's Fiona. I spoke with Chief Whittaker. I'm in."
There was a pause on the other end, long enough for Fiona to wonder if he was having second thoughts about her involvement. But then he replied, "Sounds great, Red. Happy to have you on board. Let’s head to the crime scene together. I’ll meet you out front.”
“I’m ready.” Fiona hung up, and she felt a sudden surge of determination well up within her. She had wanted to take a break from fieldwork, but something about this case had grabbed hold of her, refusing to let go. But she couldn't turn away from a case that involved insects--especially one that was using them for murder.
CHAPTER FIVE
Fiona stood at the edge of a windswept field on the outskirts of Portland, her eyes scanning the desolate landscape. The crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze, creating an eerie soundtrack to the grim discovery that had been made here just hours earlier. Carrie Puglisi, stung to death by bees. Though the body had already been moved, the air still felt heavy.
"Can you make any sense of this?" Jake asked, his gaze fixed on the ground where the body once lay.
Fiona chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I still have a feeling the victim was killed somewhere else, in a confined space," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then they were brought here."
Jake nodded, his brow furrowed. "That would explain the lack of struggle or any signs of resistance," he added.
Together, they walked the perimeter of the crime scene, considering the possible motives for such a twisted act. Why kill someone with bees? What did the murderer hope to achieve?
"Could it be some sort of revenge?" Jake suggested, his eyes darting about the scene as if searching for answers among the swaying grass and rustling leaves.
"Maybe," Fiona mused. "But I think there's more to it than that. Bees can be symbols of community and cooperation, but they're also associated with death and rebirth. Perhaps the killer is trying to send a message?"
"Interesting theory," Jake admitted. "But I don't know what that message could be. It seems like there's no connection between Craig and Carrie, at least on paper."
Fiona nodded, mulling over everything she knew. On the drive over, she had reviewed the files; Craig was a forty-five-year-old businessman who lived alone. He had an ex-wife, two children--twins. Carrie was a twenty-four-year-old single woman who worked at a grocery store and lived with a roommate. To find a connection between these two strangers seemed almost impossible. Every detail, from their job to their age to their gender, was different.
As they continued to investigate the scene, Fiona couldn't help but feel a rising sense of dread. It was as if the very earth beneath their feet was hiding something sinister, an unseen danger lurking just below the surface.
"Whatever the motive," she said, her voice thick with unease, "I can't shake the feeling that we're dealing with someone who's very knowledgeable about bees and possibly other insects. The wasps that killed Craig aren't commonly found here."
"So he could be an expert," Jake said, slinging his hands in his pockets as he walked. "Someone who would have access to various species of bees, maybe even rare or exotic ones."
"Exactly," Fiona confirmed, her heart pounding in her chest. "Which means we might be looking for a collector. Someone who's not only abducting these victims but also releasing swarms of bees on them and then dumping their bodies once they've served their purpose."
A chill settled over Fiona, imagining the end of those poor people's lives. Fiona knew that they were treading dangerous ground. They were hunting not just a killer but a master manipulator – someone who understood the power of fear and the deadly potential of nature's smallest creatures.
Just as Fiona's mind began to race with possibilities, a voice called out: "Agent Tucker!"
Fiona and Jake turned to see a young woman stride across the field, her eyes locked on Fiona. Fiona recognized her as Jake's new rookie partner--Lara Sanders. She was a slim woman with dark hair tied back tight and bright blue eyes. She wore navy slacks and a crisp white blouse.
"Hi, Agent Sanders," Jake responded, his tone slightly guarded. "This is Fiona Red. She works in forensics and entomology, and she's helping with this case."
Fiona felt a sudden shyness wash over her as Lara's gaze weighed heavily upon her. The younger agent seemed put off by Fiona's presence, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.
"Is she working on this case with you, or just... consulting?" Lara asked pointedly, her vivid blue eyes darting between Fiona and Jake.
"Consulting, for now," Jake replied cautiously. "Did Whittaker put you on this case with me?"
"He said the option is up to you," Lara replied, glancing at Fiona, "and I want in. But if you've already accepted help..."
Fiona turned away, cheeks flushed. It reminded her of when she'd first started working with Jake and Lauren was around. Obviously, Lara was a very different person, and there was no romantic history between her and Jake--but Fiona still felt the air of judgment, as though Fiona were a pest invading, and Lara was the FBI agent who should be calling the shots.
"Um, I'll just give you two a moment," Fiona mumbled, excusing herself from the conversation.
As she walked away, Fiona tried to shake off her awkward encounter with Lara and refocus her thoughts on the case. She entered the dense forest that bordered the crime scene, scanning the area for any signs of nests or hives. She was determined to prove her theory--to see if there were any nests around here that would line up with either of the species used in the murders.
Deep in the heart of the woods, Fiona paused. She listened carefully to the sounds around her – the rustling leaves, the creaking branches, and the distant hum of insects. She listened for a buzzing and kept her eyes peeled for any sign of a nest. But there seemed to be a distinct lack of any hornets or wasps nests. And there was certainly no evidence of any murder happening here.
