Fiona looked around at the bustling FBI headquarters with awe. There were agents everywhere, walking in and out of offices, typing furiously on their computers, talking into their phones--it was incredible. But she also felt like a bit of a floundering fish out of water, as she had no idea where to go.

  She figured it was best to just go up to someone and ask if they knew where she could find Jake. She approached a woman who was briskly walking down the hall.

  “Excuse me?” she tentatively asked.

  The woman turned to her and took in her appearance. With her lab coat, glasses, and frizzy hair, Fiona knew she did not look like she belonged here. Technically, this was her workplace too, she was just in another department, but still, the difference was night and day.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked, brows pinched.

  “I’m looking for Agent Jake Tucker,” Fiona managed to say. “Do you know where I can find him?”

  The woman looked her up and down. “And you are...?”

  “Fiona Red—forensic specialist.” She held up her ID tag to prove she belonged here.

  The woman only scowled. “I’m afraid I don’t know where he is. We have a big department here. I suggest asking the chief.”

  “The chief?” Fiona blinked. “Where can I find them?”

  “Second floor, room 201. That’s his office. But he’s a very busy man, young lady. I hope this is important.”

  With that, the woman took off, leaving Fiona frustrated. Did she look like the type of person to frivolously waste someone’s time? Apparently so. Regardless, Fiona knew that this information she had was vital, so she headed for the stairs and went to find the chief’s office.

  Fiona had never been on the second floor, and it was just as intimidating as she had imagined. There were large windows letting in bright sunlight, giving the whole area a golden glow. She looked around for room 201 and soon found it at the end of the hall. She was trembling slightly but steeled herself and knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” a deep voice called out from within.

  Fiona opened the door slowly and stepped inside.

  The office was huge and filled with trophies and awards lining the shelves. In front of her was an imposing desk that seemed to stretch for miles across the room. Behind it, sitting in an equally impressive chair, was an older man with a stern expression on his face—the chief himself.

  He didn’t look up from his paperwork when Fiona entered but he asked in a gruff voice: “Can I help you?”

  “Um...yes,” Fiona said hesitantly. “I’m looking for Agent Jake Tucker—I need to speak to him about something important.”

  She held her breath as she waited for his response, expecting him to shoo her away like everyone else had done today. But instead, he gave her a curt nod and gestured towards a chair in front of his desk. The name plate on the desk read Chief Harold Whittaker.

  “Agent Tucker is in an interrogation right now,” the chief explained. “He just brought in a suspect. What do you need with him?”

  “Um—I’m Fiona Red, forensic specialist, and he asked me to assist him on his case. I’ve just finished examining the remains he left with me, and I think I have crucial information to tell him, but I can’t reach him. How long will the interrogation be?”

  “It could be minutes; it could be hours,” the chief said. “I can tell you don’t know much about what we do over here. You science types are a crucial part of our operations, but being a field agent is a different beast. Agent Tucker is busy right now, so you’re going to have to just wait until he can talk.”

  Fiona couldn’t help but feel patronized, but at the same time, she knew where the chief was coming from. She truly didn’t know all the ins and outs of being an agent, or how they did things over here. She just knew this information needed to get to Jake now. It could change the outcome of the interrogation, even.

  “But the information I have could determine whether or not his suspect is a viable option,” Fiona managed.

  The chief went quiet, considering this. Fiona’s face was hot with embarrassment and intimidation; the chief was a large man, and clearly experienced, and he looked down at her with an authoritative energy that made her want to hide under a rock. But she had to stay resolute and fight for what she believed to be right. That was how she’d gotten herself through life so far—from high school hallways to Harvard—and she couldn’t back down now.

  “All I ask is that you let him know I’m here,” Fiona pleaded.

  The chief looked at Fiona with a critical eye, studying her for a few moments before finally nodding. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll make sure Agent Tucker knows you’re here and that you have something important to tell him.” He paused and then added, “It’s nice to see someone take their job seriously. I’m sure you understand the importance of this case.”

  Fiona nodded. Her heart fluttered as relief washed over her. It seemed like Chief Whittaker was willing to give her a chance after all, and she couldn’t help but feel grateful for it.

  “Thank you, sir,” Fiona said, bowing her head slightly in respect.

  The chief nodded before picking up his phone. He typed in a few numbers, then said into the phone, “Tucker, it’s Chief. Fiona Red is here to see you. She claims it’s urgent... I know you’re in an interrogation. Right. Okay.”

  The chief hung up, and Fiona’s heart thrummed as she waited for what he had to say. All of this was making her feel hot and nervous with anticipation.

  But then the chief said, “He’ll talk to you, but make it quick.”

  Fiona’s heart leapt as the chief gestured toward a door on the side of the office.

  “This way,” he said, leading her to a hallway that connected to an area where Fiona presumed all the interrogations took place. As they walked down the hall, Fiona felt a wave of tension wash over her. She had never been in the FBI’s interrogation area before, and she wasn’t sure what to expect.

  The chief opened a door at the end of the hallway and ushered her inside, revealing a room filled with two-way mirrors and desks covered in stacks of papers and evidence. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling casting an eerie shadow on everything below it.

  In front of them was Agent Tucker, leaning against a desk as he interrogated someone who sat in front of him with their head bowed down—presumably his suspect. Agent Price was there as well, although her demeanor was much calmer. Fiona could feel her stomach drop as she realized that this was it—this was her chance to prove herself useful.

  The chief went over and knocked on the door. Fiona watched through the glass as Agent Tucker said something to the others, then headed over. He came out through the door, and Fiona felt suddenly nervous being in such close proximity with him yet again. But Jake barely gave her a look, instead focusing on the chief.

  “Chief,” Jake said, nodding.

  “Agent Tucker,” the chief said. “This young lady here thinks she has case-breaking information.”

  Fiona swallowed hard. Apparently, the chief was planning on sticking around for the conversation. Maybe to see what she was made of for himself, or to see if she’d just boldly wasted his time.

  Jake had an apprehensive look on his face as he met Fiona’s eyes. “Hey, Fiona, kind of bad timing,” he muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” Fiona blurted. “I tried calling, but you didn’t answer.”

  “I had numbers from anyone not on my priority list muted—I only got the chief’s call,” Jake explained. “Sorry... I’ll make sure to add you. What is this about?”

  Fiona took a breath. “The victim—she has evidence of frostbite on her body.”

  “Frostbite?” Jake asked, lifting a brow. He glanced at the chief, who leaned back and crossed his arms.

  “Yes,” Fiona said. “I believe it’s entirely possible—likely, even—that these victims were killed some time ago, perhaps even soon after they were abducted, and then held in a freezer of some sort to preserve them. They could have been dead for months before they were dropped into the forest."

  Jake looked skeptical. "That's quite a theory," he said, rubbing his chin.

  Fiona nodded, her heart racing. She had already done the research and was confident of her findings--but it was still nerve-racking to prove it to the FBI agents in front of her.

  "And you're positive on this?" Jake asked.

  "I got a second opinion," Fiona said. "Dr. Haywood agreed with my theory. It's well-hidden, but definitely frostbite. We have no other explanation for why it could be there.”

  Silence spread through the room. The chief looked at Jake and said, "Well, if she's right, then that could change things," said the chief. "How's it going in there with your suspect?"

  Jake glanced at Fiona, who watched with anticipation.

  "Not great," Jake confessed. "It seemed he was out of town at the estimated time Sarah's body was dropped."

  "Sarah?" Fiona chimed in.

  Jake looked at her. "The victim. We still need to get her father in to confirm, but we are pretty confident her ID is Sarah Zimmer, a girl who went missing a year ago."

  Fiona's mind raced. Another person who had been missing before they were found? If that were the case, then Fiona’s theory was even more plausible. She clarified, "And Jane Ives--she had been missing for eight months, yes?"

  "Correct," Jake said.

  "Then that lines up with my theory!" Fiona exclaimed. "Maybe they died months ago, but the killer was keeping them in cold storage."

  "It's a solid theory," the chief chimed in. "Worth looking into, Tucker."

  Fiona smiled, feeling validated. But still, Jake didn't look wholly convinced, and that made her doubt herself, just a little.

  "Right," he said. "Well, I can see if the suspect we have would have access to any facilities like that, or if he has any large freezers in his basement. He was known to both the victims, so we're getting a search warrant."

  "He was known to both the victims?” Fiona asked. If that were true, then that would make this guy—whoever he was—a very likely suspect.

  “Yep, and we’re not done with him,” Jake said.

  As intimidated as she was, Fiona had to admit, it was fascinating to see this side of the FBI work. Fiona spent so much time in a lab, helping behind the scenes, and it was enthralling to see the more intense, hands-on FBI work. She wondered what it was like to be Jake—how different his life clearly was from hers. He seemed like he would have been popular and athletic his whole life, and here he was now, a real hero. Fiona liked to think she was heroic in her own, different ways, but she was not physically adept, not like Jake and Lauren.

  Jake looked at Fiona and nodded. “Thanks for sharing your theory. I'll look into it."

  Fiona nodded, feeling relieved. She had put her reputation on the line to present this theory, and it seemed that Jake was taking it seriously.

  "Thank you," she said, exhaling in relief.

  She prayed this wasn’t all in vain.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  His time was running out. The only way forward was to reveal it all; reveal everything he'd ever done.

  And, of course, take one more life, before it was too late for him.

  As he made his way through his house, he glanced outside the window at the setting sun, casting its glow over the field. The countryside had always been his solace, his safety zone, and he loved the isolation, living away from the rest of the world. The world... it was sick. A deranged, evil place. But here, he could be anything he wanted to be. This isolated farmland had given him freedom for so many years, ever since his parents died and left it all to him.

  Now, he could bring them all here. This was his domain. His world. Anyone brought into it would see that.

  They'd always beg for their lives. Deliciously beg, their words like sugar in his ears. As he stared out at the field, his mouth watered as he thought about the last time he'd killed. It was so intoxicating... the blood... the anguish... stealing those final moments away... but ah, soon, he would face his final moments too.

  That was why he had to do it now. To reveal what he'd been doing for so many years. He needed to clear out space and make room for his final kill. The kill he would relish in, find solace in, the kill that he would carry with him until his very last breath.

  Tearing himself away from the window, he slowly moved toward his basement.

  It was dark, pitch black, and the man knew that few people ever ventured down there. He had kept it this way intentionally, not wanting anyone to see what he had hidden away. But now, he had no choice. He needed to reveal it all.

  The door creaked as he opened it, and the man felt a chill run up his spine as he descended the stairs, into the darkness. The air felt stale and musty; years had passed since anyone other than him and his kills had been down here. The darkness seemed to swallow him up whole, and for a moment, he almost wished he could go back in time, back before any of this madness began.

  But no matter how hard he tried, there was no going back now. He was too far gone for that.

  He made his way through the maze of boxes and furniture stored in the basement until finally reaching his destination: the sub basement door that led even deeper into the ground.

  The man pulled the door open, being greeted by a wave of stale air. He had to duck into the tiny entryway, squeezing his large frame through the creaking doorway before finally stepping into the darkness. It was as dark as night, and he could feel a chill run up his spine as he made his way down the stairs, one step at a time.

  At first, all he could see was an endless abyss in front of him but then, gradually, his eyes adjusted, and the shadows began to take shape. It was cold down here. So cold. But he found the light switch and flipped it on, filling the room with light. The sudden illumination caused him to squint, but once his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he could see it all: the many deep freezers he had, all situated around the room. Their collective hum was like music to his ears.

  Ah, the freezers... two of them were already empty, but there were so many more to go.

  He had been keeping them here for so long now.

  In so many ways, this room, these freezers; they were his friends. They were the only ones he spent time with, and now... he had to send them all away. They were the only ones who knew him, who really saw him. It hurt his heart to let them all go, one-by-one, but he would be dead soon, and he had to empty them all out. He always knew this time would come, but he hadn't expected the cancer to spread as fast as it had.

  As he walked through the cold room, he thought of how many years it had been. Time... it had slipped away from him.

  He remembered the days when he first began killing. It was so exhilarating, so thrilling; but it was also dangerous. He'd been hunting for years now, trying to satisfy his craving for death and destruction. But every time he had killed someone, they had begged for their lives. That's what really got him each time - the terror in their eyes as they were pleading for mercy.

  But there would be no mercy this time around, not for him, at least. The cancer had taken too much of a toll on his body and soon, he would be gone. He thought back to all the years he'd spent living this life of darkness and secrets... it felt like an eternity ago now, almost as if it hadn't even happened to him at all.

  He could still remember the first time he'd killed, almost as if it had been yesterday. He knew that he was different then; he had a plan and an end goal. Killing for him wasn't about power or lust; it was about something deeper. It was his own way of preserving life; each kill leading to a better world, the one he wanted to build but never could.

  For years he had done this, slowly but surely collecting bodies and storing them away in these freezers. He'd thought of himself as some sort of hero, saving lives from death by taking them away from this world and into his own. But now, here he was at the end of it all, standing in front of these freezers with nothing left to do but say goodbye.

  He didn't want to let them go. They were his.

  But he also couldn't leave them here without him. Who would see to them? Who would pay the bills to keep them cold? No, they would discover them after his death, and then he would be exposed, and he couldn't have that.

  He stopped in front of another freezer--his third pick to release. He touched the white box and took a breath, lifting it open.

  Inside, the frozen body of a woman. She looked as though she'd been killed only yesterday, but it had been so much longer ago than that.

  He put his hand on her face, gently stroking her cold cheek. He thought of her life, the way it had been cut so short by his own hands. He remembered her screams and her pleas for mercy. She really had been one of his favorites. The thought of letting her go scared him more than he thought it would. If he didn't have her here anymore, would he lose the memories he had of her? They were so precious to him. But then again, with death coming for him, too, he would lose all memories.

  No. He had to release her.

  And he had to do it soon.

  Then, he could allow himself a final kill.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jake wasn't sure what to make of Fiona's theory, but right now, it was the best lead he had.

  Sitting in the briefing room with Lauren, Jake had his laptop open in front of him, considering where to start next. If it were true that the killer had murdered the women months ago, then kept them in some sort of cold storage to preserve them, then that raised a lot of questions. Why was he releasing their bodies now? More importantly--where had he been keeping them?

  That would take a lot of freezer power and a lot of space. And if this were true, then Jake had a sick feeling in his stomach that there were already more victims in this sick person's freezer, too late to save.

  The whole thing made this feel futile, but he couldn't lose his resolve now.

  Greg Abbott was still being held for questioning pending the search warrant, although his alibi that he'd been out of town checked out; the FBI had gotten surveillance footage of him across the country, all the way in Virginia, to visit his family. However, they also confirmed he'd been using a fraudulent credit card, and that was why he'd run away from Jake and Lauren.