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"Noneof us left the group," the woman replied, shaking her head. "Westayed here the entire time."
"Couldsomeone have been watching him?" Jake wondered aloud, his eyes narrowingas he surveyed the room.
"Maybe,"the bearded man replied hesitantly. "I mean, this place is full of people,so it's possible someone was watching him."
Ofcourse, it was possible, Fiona mused, but why now? Why Daniel, and why here?His friends seemed genuine, as far as Fiona was concerned. They clearly had noclue what happened here.
"Didhe have any enemies? Anyone who might want to hurt him?" Fiona inquired,her heart heavy with the weight of the question. If Daniel had enemies outsideof the museum, maybe someone who wanted to hurt him, it was possible thatperson stalked him here and killed him during a crowded event.
"Danielwas the kindest person I know," the woman said, her voice breaking."He didn't have a single enemy. At least, none that I'm aware of. He was areally loyal guy, never cheated on any of his exes, never dated anyone else'sgirlfriend... he really didn't mess around like that, and he was nice toeveryone, so I can't see why someone would want him dead."
Fionanodded, taking note of the information. It was possible that Daniel was thevictim of a random act of violence, but the beetle on his forehead and thedeliberate placement of it unnerved her. It was too much of a coincidence, andthe fact that it was a common beetle made the situation even more unsettling.
“DidDaniel come here often?” Fiona asked.
Thegroup looked at each other, uncertainty flickering across their faces.
"Idon't think so," the bearded man said finally. "We were all planningon going to the aquarium next."
"Didhe mention anything about why he wanted to come here?" Jake pressed, hisgaze flickering between the group members.
"No,he just said he heard about this exhibit and thought it would be cool to checkout," the woman said, her brow furrowed in thought.
Fionaexchanged a worried glance with Jake. Something was off about this entiresituation, and it was clear they needed to dig deeper if they wanted to figureout what was going on.
"Whatabout social media?" Jake asked. "Did Daniel post about coming here?Would anyone know to find him here?"
Thegroup looked at each other, and one of them pulled out their phone, quicklypulling up Daniel's social media profiles. After a quick search, they shooktheir head.
"No,he didn't post anything about coming here," the woman said, her voicesoft.
Fiona'seyes flickered over to the glass cases, taking in the strange and exoticinsects inside. "It doesn't make sense," she murmured to herself.
"Whatdoesn't?" Jake asked, turning to her.
"Whywould someone choose to kill someone here, with all of these rare and expensiveinsects around, and then just leave a common beetle on his forehead?" Fionasaid, shaking her head. "It's almost like they're trying to make us thinkit's connected to the museum, but it doesn't add up."
Jakenodded, his expression thoughtful.
"Thankyou," she said gently to the group. "You've been a great help. We'll continueto investigate and hopefully find the answers we need."
Withthat, Fiona and Jake stepped away from the group of friends and huddledtogether, their minds racing with questions and possible motives. Fionacouldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this murder than they firstthought, and the beetle on Daniel's forehead was just the beginning of atwisted puzzle they needed to solve.
"Let'scheck the security footage," Jake suggested, his eyes scanning the room asif seeking out hidden clues. "Maybe we can get a better idea of whathappened."
"Goodthinking," Fiona agreed, pushing aside her own unease. She knew that insituations like this, time was of the essence. Every second mattered.
CHAPTER SIX
Fionaheld her breath as she and Jake approached the museum manager, a spindly manwho had been hovering near the front desk, anxiously wringing his hands. It wasobvious he was the manager--or at least, a higher-up--judging by hisbusiness-casual outfit, which opposed the uniforms of the other employees.
"Excuseme, sir?" Jake asked, and the man lifted his head. A gold-plated nametagread "Crosby."
"Yes?"Crosby asked, taking them in. "If there's anything I can do to help,please, I'm more than willing."
"Weneed to see the surveillance footage," Jake said. "Can you show it tous?"
"Ofcourse, I'd be happy to!" Crosby seemed relieved to have a task to focuson and quickly led them through the winding corridors to the security room. Thewalls were lined with monitors, each displaying a different section of themuseum. Fiona couldn't help but feel an eerie sense of discomfort as theyentered the room. There was always something unnerving about watching securityfootage, getting a bird's eye view of people as they unwittingly went abouttheir days. But they weren't here to spy on people--they were here to catch akiller.
