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"Giveit a rest, Red," she imagined Jake saying, his voice firmyet gentle. "You can't solve this tonight. Not alone, and not on thesidelines."
He wasright – of course, he was always right when it came to matters like these.Fiona knew she needed to let go, at least for now, and trust that the policewould uncover the truth. She allowed the sound of Jake's heartbeat, steady andstrong beneath her ear, to drown out the whispers of doubt that gnawed at theedges of her mind.
CHAPTER TEN
Fiona'sfingertips grazed the edge of her lab table as she stared at the rows offorensic samples that awaited her attention. The morning sunlight filteredthrough the blinds, casting shadows on the sterile surfaces of the FBIheadquarters in Portland. But despite the routine work ahead of her, Fiona'sthoughts were consumed by the case from yesterday.
Thetraveling entomology exhibit still haunted her - the memory of the beetle foundon the body of the victim like an itch she couldn't quite reach. It was all sostrange, and it gnawed at her insides, making it difficult to focus on anythingelse.
"Morning,Fiona," one of her lab colleagues, Aron, greeted her with a smile,oblivious to the turmoil brewing within her mind. "How's it going?"
"Morning,"she replied flatly, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She knew shecouldn't share her concerns just yet; she needed more concrete informationbefore bringing it up with her colleagues.
On topof the lingering unease, there was another nagging thought she couldn't shake.In her research last night, she'd discovered a museum in Nevada where someonehad been killed over a month ago in a similar fashion: a stab wound to thechest. A chill ran down her spine as she recalled the details, but there was nomention of a bug found on the body.
"Wow,we sure have a lot of samples today," Aron said. "It's good to haveyou in the lab, Fi."
"Yeah,lots," Fiona murmured, her mind still distracted. "Thanks,Aron."
"Hey,are you okay?" Aron asked, concern painting his features. "You seem alittle... off."
"Fine,"she lied, waving him off with an unconvincing smile. "Just tired."
"Alright,well, if you need anything, I'm here," he offered before departing,leaving Fiona alone with her racing thoughts.
As sheturned back to her workstation, her hands trembled slightly. Two seeminglyunrelated cases, both involving museums and fatal stab wounds to the chest - itwas too much of a coincidence for her to ignore. But without concrete evidence,she knew her suspicions would be dismissed as mere conjecture.
Still,Fiona couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to these cases.
Fionaglanced around the lab, ensuring that she was alone. Taking a deep breath, shemade a decision.
Whateverthis mystery was, she would get to the bottom of it.
***
Fionastepped into the dimly lit privacy of an empty conference room, her heartpounding in her chest like a caged bird. She pressed her back against the door,trying to still her trembling hands as she pulled out her phone. The Nevadamuseum's number was already dialed, waiting for her to summon the courage topress "Call."
Shetook a steadying breath and hit the button. The phone rang twice before it waspicked up on the other end.
"Hello,this is the Silver Sage Museum of Natural History; how may I assist you?"A cheerful male voice greeted her. "This is Julian speaking." Fionapictured a young man with a broad smile; his eyes filled with warmth as heanswered the call.
"Hi,Julian, my name is Fiona Red, and I'm with the FBI," she said, her voicewavering only slightly. "I was hoping to speak with someone who might haveinformation about an incident that occurred there over a month ago."
"Ah,you must be referring to the murder," Julian replied, his tone shiftingfrom pleasant to tense in an instant. "I, uh, I was the docent workingthat night. I found the body."
Fiona'sstomach clenched, the reality of what had happened settling heavily within her."That must have been incredibly traumatic for you," she said softly."I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
"Thankyou," Julian murmured, his voice strained. "It was... difficult. Icouldn't sleep for weeks afterward. I kept seeing his face, the blood..."
"Didanything seem off that night?" Fiona asked gently, her instincts urgingher to tread carefully. "Anything unusual leading up to thediscovery?"
"Everythingseemed normal," Julian admitted, his voice hesitant. "The museum wasbusy, lots of families enjoying the exhibits that day, but then it was closingtime, so I was ushering everyone out. But when I found him...it was like somethingout of a nightmare."
"Canyou describe the scene for me?" Fiona pressed, her heart racing as shesensed a possible clue on the horizon.
"Hisbody was lying on a bench," Julian continued, his voice trembling. "Ithought he was sleeping at first, but then I turned him over. He had beenstabbed in the chest. It was... it was horrific."
"Pleasetake your time and tell me what you remember," Fiona encouraged, shootingquick glances at the door, making sure they were still alone. "It'simportant that we gather as much information as possible."
