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"Iunderstand," Julian said, taking a deep breath before he continued."I didn't want to touch anything, so I called the police immediately. Itried to keep people away from the scene until they arrived, but it wasdifficult. We weren't equipped to handle something like this."
"Ofcourse not," Fiona agreed, her fingers tapping anxiously on the tabletop."You did the best you could under the circumstances. Please know that youractions are greatly appreciated."
"Thankyou," Julian whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I just wishthere was more I could do to help."
Fionahesitated for a moment before broaching the subject she knew was delicate yetcrucial to her investigation. The dimly lit room seemed to close in around her,amplifying the tension in her voice. "Julian, I noticed in the report thatthe killer was never found. Was there anything else unusual about that night?Anything at all?"
For amoment, there was silence on the other end of the line. Fiona could almost hearJulian's thoughts churning as he considered her question. When he finallyspoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Well, it was a normal night,really. But there was one thing... I'm not sure if it's important or not."
"Please,"Fiona urged, her chest tightening with anticipation. "Whatever it is, itmight help us find a connection."
"Alright,"Julian said, taking a deep breath. "When I found the body, I noticedsomething strange: there was a dead caterpillar on the man's forehead. It wasjust sitting there as if it belonged."
Theroom seemed to grow colder as Fiona's heart plummeted. A caterpillar? On theman's forehead? The image sent shivers down her spine, conjuring all sorts ofdark possibilities. Her voice trembled as she replied, "That detail wasn'tin the report, Julian."
"Really?"Julian sounded surprised, even a little hurt. "I told the officers whoquestioned me. I saw it with my own eyes, but they must not have included it.Maybe they thought it wasn't relevant."
Fiona'smind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and dread. They now had twomurders in entomology exhibits, a stab wound to the chest with an insect lefton the forehead of the victim. They were states away, but Fiona knew, without adoubt, that these cases had to be connected.
Shefelt a chill creep up her spine as she considered the possibility that theywere dealing with a serial killer.
"Thankyou, Julian," she said, her voice barely audible. "You've been morehelpful than you realize."
"Really?"Julian's relief was palpable, even through the static-filled phone line."I just wish there was more I could do."
"Talkingabout it is enough," Fiona assured him, her mind already racing ahead tothe next steps in her investigation. "I'll be in touch if we need any moreinformation."
As shehung up the phone, Fiona knew that she couldn't ignore the mounting evidenceany longer. The connection between the two cases was too strong, too bizarre tobe mere coincidence. She needed to act quickly, to bring this revelation tolight before the killer struck again - and she had a feeling that time wasrunning out.
Panicclawed at her chest, tightening its grip on her heart. She couldn't let fearparalyze her now; she needed to act fast.
Thedoor to the lab swung open with a bang as Fiona stumbled out into the hallway,her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She fumbled in her pocket for herphone, her fingers numb and clumsy. She had to call Jake. He needed to know,needed to hear her suspicions about the connection between the Nevada murderand the murder here in Portland. The thought of facing a traveling serialkiller chilled her to the bone.
Finally,Jake answered the phone. "Red, what's--"
"Jake,"she panted into the phone. "I need you to meet me at Chief Whittaker'soffice ASAP. I can't explain right now; just... please trust me."
"Red,what's going on? You sound..." Jake hesitated, concern lacing his voice."You sound scared."
Fionaswallowed hard, her throat dry and tight. "I am," she admitted,fighting the tremor in her voice. "But we've got work to do. I'll tell youeverything when you get here."
Sheended the call and shoved her phone back into her pocket, her palms slick withsweat. As she strode down the corridor towards Chief Whittaker's office, Fionafelt the weight of her discovery pressing down upon her. A caterpillar inNevada, a beetle in Portland. Two seemingly unrelated cases, yet the insectstied them together with an invisible thread. The more she thought about it, themore certain she became that they were dealing with a killer who traveled,leaving behind a trail of bodies marked by his macabre signature.
Herheart thundered in her chest as she reached the door to Chief Whittaker'soffice, her thoughts a tangled mess of fear and determination. She raised herhand to rap on the door, then hesitated. What if she was wrong? What if thiswas all a terrible coincidence, and she was leading them down a dead-end path?
But no,she couldn't afford to doubt herself now. The stakes were too high, the risktoo great. With a deep breath, Fiona knocked on the door, trying to steady hershaking hand. The lives of others hung in the balance, and it was up to her tounravel the twisted mystery that had ensnared them all.
"Comein," Chief Whittaker called out, her voice strong and commanding.
Fionatook one last steadying breath and pushed open the door, praying that they'd beable to stop the killer before he claimed another victim.
Thechief was on the phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. He gestured forFiona to take a seat as he finished his call. Fiona sat down, her heart stillpounding in her chest as she waited for the chief to finish. Finally, the chiefhung up the phone and turned to look at Fiona.
"What'sgoing on, Red?" he asked, his eyes narrowing with concern. "You looklike you've just seen a ghost."
Fionatook a breath. "It's about the murder that happened at the entomologyexhibit."
Thechief lifted an eyebrow. "You know that case belongs to the police, Ms.Red. We haven't been called on board."
