AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Stillno sign of the hat," the detective reported, his voice edged withfrustration. "We've checked trash bins, under seats, everywhere we canthink of. Nothing."
"Damnit," Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, keepsearching. We can't give up yet."
Fionanodded in agreement, her heart pounding like a moth trapped against awindowpane.
"Look,"Abrams started, stopping Fiona and Jake in their tracks, "Agent Tucker,right? And you're Fiona Red?"
BothFiona and Jake nodded, and Fiona wondered where this was going.
"Iappreciate your help on this," Abrams said, "but this case is stillunder police jurisdiction for now, not the FBI. I'd appreciate it if you'd letme take the reigns."
Fionalooked up at Jake. His expression was drawn as it bothered him, but he nodded.Jake was a professional, and Abrams's request was, of course, reasonable. Fionaherself had forgotten that this wasn't really their case at all.
"Ofcourse, Detective," Jake said.
Abramsnodded, then turned to the group of officers. "Listen up!" he calledout to the officers, his voice steely with determination. "We're notleaving here until we find this guy. So keep looking, and don't let your guarddown for a second!"
Fionafelt a sense of unease as she watched the officers scatter, their faces tautwith grim determination. he entomology exhibit was quiet, the only sound thewhisper of footsteps and hushed whispers of the officers as they searched. Itwas as if the museum had been transformed into a giant spider's lair, and thekiller was the elusive prey they were all hunting.
Fionajust prayed they could find him before it was too late.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Withthe suspect still at large, Fiona had no choice but to keep looking.
They'dbeen at it for what felt like hours. Now, as Fiona stood in the hall where mostof the guests were, her gaze swept over the group of people huddled together,their faces a mix of fear and confusion. No one was wearing the beanie hat, andit hadn't been located anywhere in the building, but that didn't mean the killerdidn't simply hide it elsewhere.
Hecould still be here.
AsFiona was scanning the crowd, Jake at her side, her gaze settled on one man whoseemed to shrink under her scrutiny. He was thin and wiry, clad in clothessimilar to those worn by the man they'd seen in the security footage. The blackbeanie was missing, but he could have easily discarded it.
"Jake,"she murmured, nodding towards the man in question. "What do youthink?"
"Definitelyworth a shot," Jake agreed, his expression grim as he approached the man.Fiona followed him, her heart thudding against her ribs. "Excuse us,"Jake said, his tone polite but unyielding as he addressed the suspect."Could we have a word with you?"
Theman's eyes widened, darting from Jake to Fiona, then back again. His Adam'sapple bobbed in his throat, giving away his fear. "I don't knowanything," he stammered, his voice cracking like a cicada's call.
"It'sokay," Fiona reassured him, trying to keep him calm. "We just want toask you a few questions."
"Likewhat?" the man demanded, his fingers twisting nervously at the hem of hisshirt. It was white, while the man in the video had been wearing black, buttheir pants were similar. Still, the man could have easily switched shirts.
"MayI have your name and ID?" Jake asked.
Hesitantly,the man nodded and took out his wallet, handing his ID card to Jake. Jakescanned it over, and Fiona caught a glimpse as well. Marc McVey, twenty-six.
"Didyou come here alone today?" Jake asked, handing back the ID.
"Y-yeah,"Marc replied, swallowing hard. "Why? What's this about?"
"Cananyone here vouch for your whereabouts during the time of the murder?"Jake inquired, his eyes never leaving the man's face.
"No,I... I don't know anyone here," the man insisted, his voice trembling."But please, you have to believe me! I had nothing to do with this!"
AsFiona observed the man's terror-stricken expression, she found herself tornbetween suspicion and sympathy. He could be an expert liar, disguising hisguilt beneath a mask of fear. Or he could be innocent, caught up in anightmare, completely out of his own control. Plus, he wasn't a perfect match.
Fionawatched the man's chest heave with frantic breaths, his eyes darting around theroom as if seeking an escape. He seemed more like a trapped animal than acold-hearted killer, and she couldn't help but feel her resolve waver. Sheglanced at Jake, who remained stone-faced, his expression betraying nothing ofhis thoughts.
"Tellus again," Jake demanded, his voice devoid of warmth. "What were youdoing in this part of the museum?"
