Page 14

Frost clung to the windows of Jake’s car, scattering the early morning sunlight into fragmented beams that danced across Fiona's field of vision. She sat in the passenger seat, hands clasped together on her lap, watching as they passed the cityscape of Portland, transitioning into the more rural outskirts where Barry Fink's farm awaited.

She stole glances at Jake, who gripped the steering wheel with an intensity that matched the frost outside. His silence since dawn had been different from his usual caffeinated, animated discussions about the case. It was as if a shadow had settled over him, and Fiona couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just the chill of the winter morning causing the somber mood.

"Jake," she finally spoke up, her voice gentle but insistent, "you've been quiet. Even for an early morning." The words hung between them, an invitation for him to share what weighed so heavily on his mind.

He exhaled slowly, eyes never leaving the road. "I went through my mother's case files last night," he admitted, the muscle in his jaw tightening. "There were orb-weaver spiders at her scene too. It was overlooked then, but now..."

The revelation hit Fiona like a cold wave. It connected their current string of murders to the unsolved tragedy of Jake's past. She understood now the gravity of his silence, the burden of knowledge that linked his mother's killer to the predator they were hunting.

"Jake, I'm sorry," Fiona said, reaching out to place a comforting hand over his. "This must be reopening old wounds."

He nodded, swallowing hard. "It does, but more than that, it gives us a lead. If the same person is behind these killings, then we're closer to catching them than we ever were before."

His determination was palpable, and it ignited a spark within Fiona. They shared not only a personal connection but also a professional resolve to bring this killer to justice. With each mile they covered towards Barry Fink's spider farm, the pieces of a dark puzzle began falling into place, and the implications of what they might find loomed large in Fiona's thoughts.

Fiona's fingers drummed on her knee, a rhythm to match the beat of her quickened pulse. Beside her, Jake drove with a silent intensity that she had come to recognize as his way of processing. The frost from the early morning still clung to the edges of the windows, framing the world in a chilling reminder of the task ahead.

"Jake," Fiona began, breaking the silence that had settled between them since his revelation. "We can't tell the chief about this yet."

He glanced at her briefly, a question in his brown eyes.

"If he knows you're this close to the case, personally, he might pull you off of it." She held his gaze, ensuring her words hit home. "And I know you need to see this through."

A nod, somber and resolute. "Yeah. We keep it to ourselves for now. Just focus on finding the killer."

The decision settled between them like an unspoken pact, and Fiona felt the weight of their secret understanding. It was them against a past that refused to stay buried and a present that demanded justice.

As they neared the farm, Fiona pieced together the fragments of their profile, her entomologist side aiding her analytical mind. "You know," she mused aloud, "the killer messed up with your mother. There were people who could've interrupted him. That's why he's changed his pattern, why he targets single women."

Jake's hands tightened on the steering wheel, a subtle concession to the truth in her words. His mother had been surrounded by a husband and sons, a household alive with potential witnesses. It made sense, a twisted evolution of method to ensure the killer remained a ghost.

"Exactly," Jake agreed, the single word heavy with the acceptance of a theory that hit too close to home. "He learned from his mistakes. There's got to be a reason he went dormant.”

Her gaze lingered on Jake, noting the set jaw, the way his eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. "The spider at your mom's... it ties him to all this. But why start again now?”

Jake exhaled slowly, his breath fogging briefly on the windscreen before dissipating. "Fear? Greed? Necessity?" He shrugged, the motion tight with barely restrained energy. “Something’s changed for him, but what?"

"Or who," Fiona added under her breath, her mind racing through the possibilities. The killer had evolved, his methods refined over years of silence. She felt the weight of the unanswered questions pressing down on them, the invisible threads connecting past and present.

Jake nodded once, sharply. "Either way, we're going to find out."

A rush of adrenaline pulsed through Fiona as the gravity of their task settled in her chest. This was more than just a case; it was personal for Jake, the chance to heal a fifteen-year-old wound. For Fiona, it was about preventing another family from experiencing the agony of loss, the kind she knew all too well. Every victim represented a life cut short, a story ended prematurely, and the thought fueled her resolve. She would not let fear paralyze her, not this time.

"Jake," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the thrumming of her heart. "We're going to catch this guy. We have to. For your mom, for the women he's taken, and for those he might still target."

He glanced at her, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. They shared a bond, unspoken but unbreakable, tethered by loss and fortified by the oath they'd taken as agents. This killer had haunted Jake's life for far too long, slipping through the cracks of an imperfect system. It was time to end the cycle, to ensure no other family would have to endure the torment of an unsolved crime.

"Let's do it for them," Jake agreed solemnly.

And with those words, Fiona felt her commitment solidify into something tangible, a steel thread of purpose intertwining with her very being. She wouldn't rest until justice was served, until the shadow that loomed over Jake's past and their city's present was finally eradicated. Today was a step toward that closure, a move against the darkness. With every fiber of her being, Fiona was ready to confront whatever awaited them at Barry Fink's spider farm.

Fiona steered her gaze away from Jake's profile, the silence between them as crisp as the frost on the car windows. The sun was already climbing, its rays attempting to pierce through the cold with golden spears. As they turned off the main road, gravel crunched under the tires, and the forest enveloped them in an emerald embrace. Leaves rustled a welcome—or a warning—as they wove deeper into the woods.

They arrived at a clearing where Barry Fink’s spider farm lay hidden like a secret. The place was an oddity nestled within nature, the structures poorly imitating the surrounding trees' organic growth. Fiona stepped out of the car, her breath visible in the chill morning air. The chirping of birds mingled with the subtle hum of unseen insects. It was serene yet unsettling, as if the tranquility masked something more sinister.

With a glance at each other, they approached the farmhouse door. Knocking echoed with a hollow sound that seemed to ripple through the forest. Moments later, it swung open, revealing a portly figure that matched the eccentricity of his dwelling. Barry Fink stood before them, his beard scruffy, glasses catching the sun's light. He peered at them, curiosity lighting up his eyes behind the lenses.

"Morning," he greeted, his voice booming with unexpected warmth. "How can I help you folks?"

Fiona flashed her FBI badge, noting how Barry's demeanor shifted from neighborly to cautious, but still cordial. "We'd like a word about your spiders, Mr. Fink.”

“Of course—you’re Fiona Red, right?” Barry said. “An old colleague of mine called to let me know you were coming.”

“That’s right,” Fiona replied.

"Well, come on in," Barry replied with a nod, stepping aside to welcome them into his world of arachnids. Despite the odd setting, his exuberance was infectious, almost endearing. Fiona sensed a man who found solace in his peculiar interests—a trait she understood all too well.

Fiona crossed the threshold. She took a moment to adjust to the change in light, the shadows of the forest giving way to the dimness of the house. The interior held the promise of answers, and she could feel the weight of Jake's anticipation like a tangible force beside her. They were close now, closer than ever to unraveling a mystery that had entangled itself in their lives. This strange, kind man before them could be the key to exposing the darkness lurking beneath the surface of the city they vowed to protect.

Fiona stepped into the dimly lit space, eyes adjusting to the sight of countless glass enclosures stacked upon one another. She felt a curious blend of fascination and unease as she surveyed the room. Each terrarium was a self-contained world, teeming with life that skittered and weaved amidst foliage and artificial structures. The air carried a musty scent, an amalgam of earth and the lingering musk of insects.

"Quite a collection," Fiona remarked, her voice tinged with professional admiration. Her gaze landed on a terrarium where a spider with legs like slender needles tended to an intricate web. Barry followed her look, a gleam of pride in his eyes.

"Ah, you've spotted my crown jewel," he said, gesturing towards the enclosure. "That's a golden silk orb-weaver. Rare for these parts."

"Beautiful," Fiona breathed out, leaning closer. Her entomologist heart raced at the sight. Here was nature's perfect predator, an exquisite balance of grace and lethality. For a fleeting moment, she was no longer Agent Red but the wide-eyed student who'd spent hours lost in the pages of arachnid textbooks.

"Only a few people appreciate their beauty," Barry continued, clearly pleased with Fiona's reaction. "Most just see them as creepy crawlies. I guess I should expect no less from an entomologist such as yourself." His chuckle resonated within the confines of the spider sanctuary.

Fiona exchanged a look with Jake, who looked pale; he’d never been a fan of bugs, not like she was.

Fiona tore herself away from the captivating display. Duty called, louder than the siren song of academic pursuit. She cleared her throat, a subtle shift back into her role as an FBI agent. "Barry, we're particularly interested in your common orb-weavers. Do you have those?"

"Sure thing." Barry led them through the maze of enclosures to a less ostentatious section. Rows of spiders occupied these spaces, each busy with the day's work of spinning or repairing webs. "Here they are. Not as showy, but they have their own charm."

Jake, who had been quiet, stepped forward. His voice held an edge of urgency. "Have you sold any recently?"

Barry paused, a furrow forming across his brow as he recalled. "Yes, there was someone." He scratched his beard, looking off into the distance as if the memory lay hidden in a corner of the room. "Didn't seem the scholarly type, but he was interested in these little guys. They aren’t all that big of a deal to most, but they do spin webs quite quickly, which can make them appealing to those looking to build specific types of enclosures.”

Or leave them somewhere they might spin webs quickly to alarm unsuspecting victims…

Fiona exchanged a glance with Jake, a silent communication passing between them. This could be the break they needed.

Fiona watched as Barry's jovial demeanor dimmed, his eyes clouding over with the effort of dredging up an uncomfortable memory. "He was different," Barry murmured, his words slow and measured. "Came in here, asked for orb-weavers specifically. Lots of them."

"Did he say why?" Jake prodded, leaning in.

"Nope." Barry shook his head. "Just handed over the cash. Good money, but... there was something off about him." He frowned. "Didn't even give a name. In hindsight, gave me the creeps."

"Anything else you can remember?" Fiona asked, her mind racing with the implications. A non-scholar purchasing bulk spiders? It didn't sit right.

Barry shrugged, a heavy gesture. "Dressed all in black. Kept to himself. Was in and out like a shadow."

Jake exchanged a look with Fiona. They both knew this was significant. The man in black. The neighbor's description. It was more than a coincidence.

"Barry, do you have security cameras here?" Fiona's voice was steady, despite the adrenaline beginning to surge through her veins.

"Sure do," Barry replied, leading them back through the maze to a cluttered office. Monitors lined one wall, each displaying different angles of the farm.

"Can we see the footage from when this guy was here?" Jake asked, his gaze fixed on the screens.

"Of course." Barry settled into a chair that creaked under his weight and began to tap at the keyboard. After a minute, he paused and pointed at the screen. "There. That's him."

The grainy footage showed a tall figure, dressed in a long black coat, cap pulled low over his face, sunglasses hiding his eyes. Even on the screen, the man exuded an unsettling aura.

"Can we get a copy of this?" Fiona asked, her voice betraying none of the excitement she felt at this lead.

"Absolutely." Barry clicked a few more keys, and a printer whirred to life. He handed them a CD. "Here's the entirety of his visit."

"Thank you, Barry. You've been incredibly helpful," Jake said, pocketing the CD.

As they walked back to their car, Fiona could feel the change in the air between them. This was it—a tangible piece of evidence that could lead them to the killer.

"Public release?" Jake suggested, his eyes meeting hers.

"Agreed," Fiona nodded. "Someone might recognize him, even with the disguise."

They slid into the car, the morning sun now warming the frost on the windows. As Jake started the engine, Fiona held the CD in her hands, acutely aware of its significance. They were one step closer to ending this nightmare, one step closer to avenging Jake's mother, to preventing any more deaths.

As they drove away from the spider farm, Fiona thought of all the victims, of Jake's mother, of the years of pain and unanswered questions. This breakthrough, this small circular disc, might just be the key to bringing it all to a close.