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"Got him," Jake said, his voice cutting through the haze of Fiona's worries.
"Calvin Rhodes," Fiona read aloud from the screen, the name settling into her mind like a puzzle piece clicking into place. The face staring back at them from the database was clearer, lines etched into his skin, but undeniably the same man from the footage.
"Let's dig into Mr. Rhodes," Jake said, his tone all business now. They had a name, a starting point, and Fiona felt the familiar surge of determination. This was why she had become an agent—to chase down the shadows until they had nowhere left to hide.
Fiona's gaze locked onto the screen, where the cold pixels formed the visage of Calvin Rhodes. The profile that loaded beside his mugshot was a laundry list of red flags. "Exterminator," she murmured, her eyes scanning the list of offenses. Assault charges—multiple ones—and all against women.
"Looks like we've got our prime suspect," Jake said from beside her, his voice a mix of disgust and resolve. He leaned in closer, squinting at the details. There was something personal in this for him, Fiona knew. Every case was another chance to right the wrongs of the past, to do for these victims what no one had been able to do for his mother.
"His employment history," Fiona pointed out, tapping the screen, "gives him access to all sorts of chemicals and... spiders." The last word hung in the air, tainted with the memory of their crime scenes—the delicate, deadly webs that had cradled the lifeless bodies of Lena Chase and Jamie Lin.
"Let's see what else we can dig up on our friend here," Jake said, opening his laptop with a sense of urgency.
The click-clack of Jake's typing filled the room as he navigated through databases and records. Fiona watched over his shoulder as snippets of Calvin Rhodes' life unfolded before them. Born in Portland, a childhood profile emerged steeped in violence and neglect. It painted a picture of a boy who found solace in the company of insects and arachnids, creatures that thrived in darkness and were feared by many.
"Look at this," Jake said, clicking on an article from a local paper. A young Calvin, recognized at a science fair for his project on spiders. "His obsession started early."
"Turned his fascination into a career," Fiona noted, "but I guess some fascinations have sharp edges." She thought about how often people hid behind masks of normalcy, their true natures lurking just beneath the surface.
"Whatever line there was for him, it looks like he crossed it a long time ago," Jake muttered, his brow furrowed as he sifted through more information.
Fiona's fingers danced across the keyboard, her eyes scanning the lines of text that were beginning to shape a sinister narrative. She paused, honing in on a recent entry in Calvin Rhodes' employment history. Her breath hitched slightly as she read the details aloud. "Terminated for aggressive behavior towards a female coworker," she said, the words hanging heavily in the air between her and Jake.
Jake looked over at Fiona, his expression grim. "That fits the pattern," he replied. "He's got a history with women."
"His temper seems to be as venomous as the spiders he works with," Fiona mused, pushing up her glasses. The images of Lena Chase and Jamie Lin flashed in her mind—strong, independent women whose lives had been cruelly snatched away. It was personal for Fiona, who couldn't help but see echoes of her sister Joslyn in each victim.
She delved deeper into Rhodes' file, searching for anything that could give them an advantage. Her heart raced, not just from the caffeine pulsing through her veins, but from the chase, the need to prevent any more lives from being extinguished by this predator. Her focus was unwavering, the profile of Calvin Rhodes slowly becoming clearer with every click.
Fiona's fingers flew across the keyboard as Jake relayed details over the phone. "We need eyes on Rhodes' last known residence and his workplace," he commanded, his tone brokering no argument. The local police were quick to respond, their efficiency a testament to the gravity of the situation. As they set about orchestrating surveillance, Fiona couldn't shake the image of the spider tattoos that crawled along the man's skin in the footage.
"Surveillance is up," Jake announced, ending the call and turning back to Fiona. She nodded, her gaze fixed on the screen in front of her. Together, they sifted through digital piles of information, each new discovery adding layers of urgency to their search.
"Rhodes could be anywhere," Fiona mused aloud, her voice a soft murmur in the tense silence of the room. Her eyes darted from one document to the next, searching for any thread that would lead them to the predator before he struck again.
Jake stood beside her, his presence a steadying force. "But we've got eyes out now. He won't slip past us," he said, his confidence reassuring even as the weight of uncertainty pressed down on them both.
"Let's go back over everything," Fiona suggested, her mind racing as they revisited the crime scenes through photos and reports. With each detail, they built a profile of Calvin Rhodes in action, weaving connections between his movements and the tragedies that unfolded.
"Look at this," Jake pointed to a series of timestamps. "He was at the smoothie bar at consistent intervals. It's like he was keeping watch."
"Timing his visits," Fiona added, piecing together the pattern. "Calculating when he'd have the best chance of not being noticed." Every clue seemed to underscore Rhodes' meticulous nature, the deliberate way he stalked his victims.
"Waiting for the right moment to strike," Jake concluded, his face grim. They were hunters tracking an all-too-human spider—one who'd spun a web of violence and terror.
"His next move..." Fiona's voice trailed off as she contemplated the implications. "We need to predict it, get ahead of him."
"Exactly," Jake confirmed, his gaze meeting hers with fierce determination. They were united in purpose, agents of justice against the creeping darkness.
Fiona felt the familiar flutter of nerves, but it was overshadowed by a growing resolve. She was more than an entomologist; she was an agent of the FBI, and she would not let another life be lost to this monster.
The call from the surveillance team came in like a bolt, shattering the tense silence of their makeshift operation center. Rhodes was on the move. Fiona felt her pulse quicken as she watched the grainy footage; the man they'd been tracking emerged from his house, his gait steady and purposeful, a bulky case suggestive of extermination equipment slung over his shoulder.
"Time to go," Jake said, his voice taut with urgency. Fiona nodded, gathering her wits like a cloak around her. They joined the tactical team, each member clad in body armor and grim determination. The air was thick with the weight of impending confrontation.
As they moved out, Fiona ran through every protocol she'd learned, every scenario that could unfold. She clutched her weapon, still foreign in her grip but steadied by countless hours of training. It was real now—she was no longer the scholar peering at insects under a microscope. She was the hunter, and Calvin Rhodes was the dangerous quarry.
***
