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“It was a misunderstanding," Victor spat out, the words tight with anger. "They fired me over nothing, over some infatuation that wasn't even my doing!"
Jake watched him closely, noting the way Victor's hands clenched and unclenched, the agitation rippling through him like waves in a disturbed pool. The man was unraveling, the threads of his composure coming undone with each heated word.
"An ex-colleague, she...she made it seem like there was something more. I never initiated anything," Victor continued, a sneer twisting his lips. "She led me on, and when things didn't go her way, she turned it around on me."
Skeptical, Jake shifted his weight, feeling a familiar heat coil in his stomach. He knew this pattern all too well—the shifting of blame, the portrayal of oneself as the victim when it was convenient. It was a dance he'd seen before, one that left a sour taste in his mouth.
"Did you think Jamie Lin owed you something, too?" Jake cut in sharply, barely containing the edge in his voice. "Martial arts lessons—was she another person who led you on?"
"No, no," Victor stammered, his eyes darting to Fiona and then back to Jake, the anxiety returning to his features like unwelcome shadows at dusk. "I just wanted to learn from her, that's all. She was skilled, and I...I respected that."
"Respected," Jake echoed dryly, the word feeling hollow in his mouth. He could see the flicker of fear in Victor's eyes, the way his story stumbled over itself in an effort to avoid traps. Respect wasn't what Jake saw in those eyes; it was something hungrier, something that had little to do with admiration.
“What’s this all about, anyway?” Victor asked.
Jake watched the veneer of calm on Victor's face crack as Fiona delivered the news. "Jamie Lin has been found dead," she said, her voice steady but carrying an unmistakable gravity. "Left at the scene were orb-weaver spiders." She paused, letting that sink in. "As a fellow entomologist, you'd know those aren't common house spiders."
"Dead?" Victor's voice was a whisper, a mix of genuine shock and something else Jake couldn't quite place. "I had nothing to do with this. I swear."
"Can you tell us where you were last night, Victor?" Jake asked, his gaze fixed on the man before him.
"Last night?" Victor echoed, his eyes suddenly brightening as if a switch had been flipped. "I was at bingo with my coworkers. You can ask any of them."
"Let's do that," said Jake, nodding towards one of the younger employees milling around the counter, who had been watching their exchange with cautious curiosity.
"Hey, Marcus!" Victor called out, beckoning the young man over with a wave. "Tell these agents where we were last night."
The coworker sauntered over, his expression one of mild annoyance at being pulled into the conversation. "Yeah, we were at this bar up the street 'til like, two a.m.," he grumbled, his words clipped and brusque. "After that, we went back to my place for more drinks."
"Until what time?" Jake pressed.
"Pretty late," Marcus replied with a shrug. "Then we crashed at my place for a bit after."
Victor stood taller, almost proud, as if the alibi were a shield that could deflect any suspicion. But Jake wasn't convinced. Alibis could be faked, memories could falter under pressure. Yet, despite his reservations, he knew they needed more than just a gut feeling to tie Victor to the crimes. They needed evidence—and so far, all they had were spiders and coincidences.
Fiona's brow furrowed slightly in concentration, her eyes locked on Marcus as if searching for any hint of deception.
"Victor was zonked out on my couch when I woke up," Marcus continued, evidently peeved by the interruption to his workday. "Didn't even stir until what must've been nine in the morning."
Jake glanced over at Fiona, whose amber eyes met his own. They shared a silent conversation in that moment, both seasoned enough to recognize the frustration of chasing down false leads. The tension in Fiona's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, a subtle admission of the dead end they had hit.
Maybe it was a longshot, but Jake showed the photo of Lena to Marcus as well and asked, “Have you seen this woman in here before?”
Marcus nodded. “Yeah, she comes in here a lot. Haven’t seen her for a week or so, which is odd.”
“That’s because she’s dead,” Victor said, and Marcus went pale. “That’s why they’re here. But I never touched either of these people.”
“Did anyone ever come in who did?” Fiona asked. “Did you ever see them talking to any strange men?”
Marcus shrugged. Victor, however, had a perplexed look on his face.
“What is it, Victor?” Jake pressed.
“Well, you mentioned arachnids,” Victor said. “There’s this one guy who comes in here sometimes… stands out, because he has a bunch of spider tattoos. Webs, spiders, you name it. Weird guy.”
“Oh yeah, that guy,” Marcus said. “He does come in here a lot.”
“Do you have a name?” Jake asked. It wasn’t much, but a man obsessed with spiders, attending the same smoothie bar both Jamie and Lena went to, could be a lead.
