AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fiona knelt closer to the web, its delicate strands catching the light. The orb-weavers were a peculiar detail, too specific to be a coincidence. She rose, dusting off her knees, and caught Jake's eye.
"Both victims lived alone," Jake said, his brow furrowed as he considered the scene. "It's personal. He's picking them, watching them."
"Learning their patterns," Fiona added, her mind racing with possibilities. She recalled the files they'd studied, each woman's life reduced to reports and photographs. "Jamie was at her martial arts studio, Lena at the gym. Their routines gave him windows of opportunity."
"Right." Jake nodded. "He needed time to set this up." His voice was steady, but Fiona knew the gears were turning, piecing together the profile of their killer. Strong, disciplined women—both met the same brutal end in their own homes.
The condo felt smaller now, claustrophobic with the weight of what had transpired. Fiona glanced around once more, the walls seeming to close in with secrets just out of reach. They were dealing with someone methodical, patient—a hunter stalking prey.
"Definitely not random," she confirmed, her tone even. It was a calculated choice, the killer displaying an intimate knowledge of their lives. The spiders, the murders—it was a macabre dance choreographed down to the smallest detail.
Jake's eyes met hers, a silent agreement passing between them. They were both thinking it: This was only the beginning. Whoever was behind this had a message, and they were going to keep killing until it was heard loud and clear.
Fiona stepped carefully over the threshold, her eyes scanning the condo's entryway one more time. She moved with purpose, the weight of her badge a constant reminder of the responsibility she now shouldered. They needed to find something the local cops had missed.
"Back here," she called out to Jake, her voice low and steady.
Jake followed her lead, his gaze sweeping across the room before settling on Fiona. She pointed towards the front of the townhouse where a window stood ajar, the curtains fluttering slightly in the breeze of the otherwise still home.
"Second floor," Fiona said, gesturing upward. "It's open."
"Common mistake," Jake noted as he joined her, peering at the gap that invited the chilly Portland air inside. "People forget to lock their second-floor windows. It's easy to think you're safe that high up."
"Easy for someone to climb up when they know nobody's home," Fiona added, her mind racing with the possibilities. The killer had been here, in this space, weaving a deadly trap. She felt her pulse quicken at the thought.
"Let's go upstairs," Jake said, his voice steady. He led the way, taking the steps two at a time. Fiona followed, her hand skimming the banister.
Upstairs, they found the window in question. A small balcony overlooked the street below, providing easy access from outside. The room was neat, almost sterile. A home gym laid out with precision. A foldable yoga mat on one side and a kettlebell on another. Two water bottles sat on a shelf by a small stereo.
Fiona moved to the window, peering over the edge of the balcony. "Not easy, but not impossible either." She looked back at Jake, her brow furrowed in thought.
Jake nodded slowly. He crouched down near the window sill, his fingers tracing over something that Fiona couldn't see from where she stood.
"There," he said, standing up and pointing to a faint scrape mark on the window sill. It was barely visible against the dark paintwork. "He used something to get up here."
The trace of evidence was chilling in its simplicity: a small piece of reality that confirmed their theories about this methodical killer.
Both of them scanned through the room once more before exiting it.
In silence, they made their way down to Jamie's bedroom. The room was decorated with personal mementos: photos on her dresser showed Jamie with friends and family; posters of martial arts idols adorned the walls; a pile of trophies glistened from a corner shelf.
"The second victim lived in her own fortress," Fiona observed quietly. "Strong women... living alone... targeted in their homes."
Jake joined her by the bed, where an open book lay beside a reading lamp, marking Jamie's last moments before tragedy struck.
"Third victim could be next," he said grimly.
Fiona looked at him sharply. They both knew what was at stake. They had a killer to catch before someone else ended up like Lena and Jamie.
The rest of the condo was meticulously organized. It spoke volumes about Jamie Lin, the kind of discipline she lived by. Everything had its place: martial arts trophies lined a shelf, books were arranged by height, and not a single dish was out of place in the kitchen cabinets.
Fiona stood in the middle of the living room, her gaze following the delicate webs that stretched across the entryway. Jake's voice pulled her attention back. "He's not just killing; he's staging a show with these spiders," he said, his tone grim.
"Diversion tactics," Fiona agreed, adjusting her glasses as she considered what this meant. The killer was cunning, using fear and confusion to his advantage. "Maybe he enjoys the power, the chaos he creates."
"Could be a deep-seated resentment towards women who can handle themselves," Jake added, his jaw set tight. "Someone who feels overpowered by strong women."
"Or threatened by them," Fiona replied, the words leaving a sour taste. She looked around the condo once more, her eyes scrutinizing every corner for something they might have missed. The orb-weavers seemed almost like a signature, a taunt from the killer.
