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But Lacy couldn't slow down - not when she felt so close to finding the answers that haunted her every step.
Lacy's eyes locked on the flashlight partially hidden by the undergrowth, her heart pounding in her chest. "There!" she exclaimed, pointing at it. The officers exchanged glances before following her as she hurried over.
"Chris's flashlight... He bought it on our first camping trip," she muttered, clutching the cold metal tightly in her hand. Panic bubbled within her, causing her hands to tremble. She barely registered Officer Thompson's comforting hand on her shoulder as she took a deep breath, steeling herself.
"Let's keep moving," Lacy urged, her voice wavering. The group pressed forward, their footfalls muffled by the damp earth. Lacy's mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each more horrifying than the last. Chris was her rock, her everything; she couldn't lose him.
"Over there..." Officer Davis whispered, his voice strained. Lacy followed his gaze and caught sight of a body lying motionless on the ground. Her blood ran cold, and she felt as if her legs would give out beneath her. With each step closer to the figure, her fear intensified.
"Please, no," Lacy murmured, tears welling up in her eyes. As they reached the body, she let out a choked sob. It was Chris - his uniform torn and dirtied, insects crawling all over his arms, feasting on his flesh. He looked as if he'd been lying there for days, decomposition setting in.
"Chris!" Lacy cried out, collapsing to her knees beside him. She reached out to touch him, but Officer Thompson gently held her back.
"Wait, Lacy," he warned, his voice thick with emotion. "We need to preserve the scene."
"Damn the scene!" Lacy screamed, her grief overwhelming her. "That's my husband!"
"Listen to me, Lacy," Officer Davis pleaded, kneeling down beside her. "We're going to find out what happened, but we have to do this right. For Chris."
Lacy's sobs echoed through the trees as she nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her heart was shattered, her world upended. But she knew that for Chris's sake, she had to stay strong and see this through to the bitter end.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow on the outskirts of town as Fiona and Jake approached Darrell Sloane's insect farm. Fiona's heart raced, her palms clammy with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. It wasn't every day that an entomologist had the chance to visit a farm like this, but she had to remind herself that they weren't here for academic pursuits; they were here to catch a killer.
"Remember, Fiona," Jake said quietly, sensing her unease. "We stick together, and we stay focused."
Fiona nodded, swallowing hard. She knew he was right. Darrell Sloane was their number one suspect, considering they were looking for someone who had access to corpse fauna. The fact that he had been charged for illegally hunting in the same forest where the two victims were found just added to their suspicions.
As they walked up the gravel driveway, Fiona took in the surroundings. The farm consisted of a small plot of land with a tiny, weathered house and a long outbuilding behind it, likely where Darrell farmed the insects. Her inner entomologist couldn't help but be intrigued by the thought of seeing the setup up close, but she quickly pushed those thoughts aside. This wasn't about indulging her scientific curiosity; lives were at stake.
Jake's face contorted as the buzzing of insects grew louder, his nose wrinkling in distaste. Fiona could tell her partner was struggling to keep his composure, knowing full well that he had never been able to stomach creepy-crawlies.
"Are you going to be alright?" she asked, concerned.
"I'll manage," Jake grumbled, swallowing hard.
Fiona patted him on the back sympathetically and turned her attention back to their surroundings. The sun cast long shadows across the ground, highlighting every blade of grass and weed that surrounded the tiny house and long outbuilding. The hum of insect wings filled the air, creating an eerie undercurrent beneath the rustling leaves of nearby trees.
As they neared the house, the door swung open, revealing a man who couldn't have been Darrell Sloane. He appeared much younger than the man in the mugshot they'd seen, with shaggy brown hair and a scruffy beard. Fiona sensed Jake tensing up beside her, preparing for the unexpected.
"Um, hi there," the young man said hesitantly, eyeing the two agents warily. "Can I help you with something?"
"Actually," Jake began, trying to sound casual despite his discomfort, "we were hoping to speak with Darrell Sloane."
"Ah, I see," the man replied, scratching his head nervously. "Well, I'm his assistant, Joey. Is there something I can do for you?"
Fiona observed Joey closely, searching for any signs of deception. Was he covering for Darrell or genuinely unaware of his boss's potential involvement in the murders? She shared a glance with Jake, reading the same uncertainty in his eyes.
"Would you mind fetching Darrell for us?" Fiona asked, her tone polite but firm. "We really need to speak with him directly."
Jake asked, revealing his badge from under his jacket. "I'm Agent Jake Tucker, and this is my partner, Fiona Red. We're with the FBI."
Joey's eyes widened as he took in the badges, and Fiona noticed the way his gaze flicked between her and Jake, a hint of unease settling on his features. "Is there... something wrong?"
"Nothing for you to worry about," Jake said smoothly, stepping forward to stand beside his partner. "We just need to have a word with Darrell. Is he around?"
"Um, yeah," Joey swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he glanced back at the house. "He's inside. I can go get him for you."
