Page 18 of Criminology of a Character

“I know we’re cutting our trip short by a few days, but did you enjoy yourself?” Eamon settled beside her. “Our first getaway together wasn’t a total disaster, was it?”

“Mr. Stone, are you nervous?” Bel bumped him with her hip, and he grunted with annoyance. “It was magical.” She slid her fingers into the crook of his elbow, pulling him close as she set Gianni’s folder down. “I’m pissed Kinley escaped, but this is an incredible find. It was worth cutting our trip short for. Plus, Griffin won’t let me back to work until Monday, so let’s get Cerberus and spend the long weekend together. I don’t care if we’re on a tropical beach, investigating a case, or taking Cerberus for a hike. I’ve concluded I enjoy your company, Mr. Stone. In fact, I prefer being with you.” She glanced up at him, not missing how his black eyes lightened at her confession.

“Detective,” Agent Peters interrupted before Eamon could respond. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you home. Agent Barry has already contacted an agent at the resort. They’ll pack up your luggage and meet us on the mainland.”

Bel and Eamon voiced their understanding, and together, they left the office. Peters guided them through the underground maze, taking them down a different hallway to the elevator. Barry had walked them along the scenic route to showcase the true magnitude of the facility, but Peters chose a more direct path. They moved silently through the investigating agents, but as they strode down the final corridor leading to the exit, mencarrying oversized boxes approached. The trio stepped aside to allow the group to pass, and in that pause, Bel saw it.

It was so small against the grey floors that it disappeared in the dimness. It was wedged in the corner, trapped in a gap in the tiles, and if she hadn’t stopped walking, she would’ve never seen it. If she hadn’t moved out of the agents’ way, she would’ve never noticed it, but at this angle, it was plain as day.

“Eamon,” she whispered as she captured his wrist and yanked him to her side, for there, on the floor of this illegal doctor’s office, was a butterfly. An origami butterfly… folded from a blue gum wrapper.

“Eamon, look.”Bel pointed to the origami, but before he could follow her directions, an agent carrying an overstuffed box swerved to avoid her. He bumped into the wall, stumbling to regain his balance, and his foot slammed down on the gum wrapper. Bel flinched as he crushed it, and when his boot lifted, the blue butterfly had vanished.

“No! Wait.” She raced after the man as he strode down the hall.

“Ma’am?” He twisted toward her voice, and she gestured at his foot. He glanced down, and noticing the wrapper stuck in the tread, he yanked it free. Bel grimaced as the flimsy paper tore, the butterfly gone as a twist of garbage replaced it. Up close, she noticed the wrapper’s age. It was brittle and worn, the bootits final straw, and what had once been a cute design was now nothing but a mangled heap.

“Oh, thanks,” the agent said, assuming her interruption was merely a polite act. He balled up the shredded gum wrapper, and without a backward glance, he continued down the hall.

“Isobel?” Eamon came up behind her. “You okay?”

“Please tell me you saw that,” she begged.

“Saw what was in the box?” he asked. “I did, but I don’t know what it was. It looked expensive, though.”

“No.” She stepped closer so only he could hear her. “The gum wrapper.”

“Gum wrapper?” Eamon glanced at where the agent had disappeared around the corner. “No. I thought you meant for me to look in the box. Where did you see?—”

“Detective,” Agent Peters interrupted him. “We need to go.”

Bel hesitated as she threw one last look down the hall.

“Detective,” Peters repeated. “Please.”

She nodded despite the tightening in her chest. What choice did she have? The butterfly, if that’s even what it was, had been destroyed. It was nothing more than garbage now, and if she mentioned it, the agents would roll their eyes at her obsession with litter when the proof of hundreds of altered criminals demanded their immediate attention.

“What gum wrapper?” Eamon whispered when they were finally seated in the helicopter.

“I’m sure you noticed how Anne Blaubart folds her gum wrappers,” Bel said.

“It’s hard not to.”

“One of her origami butterflies was on the floor,” she said as they took off, the whir of the blades hiding her words from all but him. “Same blue wrapper. Same brand and flavor that she chews. Same folded shape. It was stuck in a cracked tile, but then that agent stepped on it, and it crumbled.”

“Why would Anne’s origamis be in there?” Eamon asked.

“I don’t know. She’s married to a plastic surgeon. She’d have no use for this clinic… right?”

“If I was a surgeon, would you search out another doctor for help?” he asked.

“No,” Bel agreed. “Especially not a place with unlicensed doctors. Plus, the FBI’s cross-referencing confirmed the legal surgeons at the resort weren’t involved in this operation. They’re just Hyde’s unwitting cover.”

“The Blaubarts visit the island often,” Eamon said. “Like that agent, one of her butterflies could’ve gotten stuck to someone’s shoe and fell off inside the clinic. She folds them after every meal, so there must be hundreds floating around here. Or maybe a client of this facility picked one up to keep but then lost it? Trash has the ability to spread like wildfire. That butterfly could be just that. Wandering trash.”

“Can it really be that simple?” Bel asked, the explanation feeling too convenient for the coincidence.

“Our luxury getaway turned into one of the largest FBI raids, so I don’t know anymore,” he said. “Maybe it isn’t even Anne’s at all.”

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