Page 26 of Let Her Live

They continued on, moving slowly and quietly. Fiona could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her palms were slick with sweat.

Just then, Jake's phone started ringing, cutting into the sounds of the swamp.

He pulled it out and answered with a tight look on his face. "This is Agent Tucker."

Fiona held her breath, waiting for news—hoping it would be something good. Maybe they found Hank alive, and this was all a misunderstanding. She hoped so. She hated the idea of him leaving behind his family, who clearly cared so much about him. She still had both her parents, but she knew what it was like to lose someone with her missing sister.

But Jake's grim expression didn't tell her anything good. "I see," he said. "Got it. We're on our way." Jake hung up and looked at Fiona, his eyes downcast. He took a breath as he said, "They found Hank's body."

***

Even deeper into the marsh, a solid mile from the campsite, they found him.

Fiona's heart sank into her stomach as she looked at the scene. It was much fresher than what she'd seen of Derek; Hank Grayson was tied up to a cypress tree, his throat cut, his skin still pink from the life that had once flowed through it, his tattoos crisp, as if he just got them done. The only bugs she could see were black flies, pecking at the blood that poured down his throat.

"Damn it," Jake cursed from beside her.

Fiona glanced at him, seeing the pain evident on his face. She didn't like this either. It didn't feel right.

The other officers were working around the scene, looking for evidence and taking photos. Fiona hesitantly approached the body, looking for any clues that could tell them who did this. She looked at the type of rope used to tie him up—it appeared to be the same as the others. As she rounded the body, she thought she saw a mark on the back of Hank's head—potentially an assault wound, as his hair was matted and bloody there. She didn't understand the killer's motives, and also, the way they found Hank threw out her theory that the killer had kept them alive for some time before killing them. She had thought the bot flies had indicated such, but maybe there was another explanation.

Jake came over to her, his face remorseful. "Let's get back to the campsite. We need to talk to his family."

Fiona just nodded, not having the heart to respond. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of what was going on. She knew Hank was dead and that there was no way he didn't have the same killer as the other victims, but something was different too. For one, they were quite far away from where the other bodies had been found; why had he switched locations?

She had so many questions.

They walked back in silence as the sun beat down on them. Fiona could feel her fatigue sticking to her skin, and she was sure her face was beet red.

"I guess this confirms the theory," Jake said as they walked, and Fiona looked up at him in confusion. "That he stalks them and picks them out when they're alone," he clarified.

"It's a lot of risk to take, getting so close to the victim. But it seems like he's willing to do whatever it takes to get his mark."

"I guess," Fiona murmured, thinking. "But why is he moving the bodies? That's what doesn't make sense to me."

"That's the weirdest part of all of this—why move the bodies so far away?" Jake asked. "I don't even know how he's doing it, but he's got some kind of way to transport them. Hank was clearly a big guy."

There was another thing bothering her too. "And there are no tire marks," Fiona noted.

"He must be transporting them another way," Jake said. "What I'm confused about too is, why these men? What makes them so special? The others were tourists, but Hank only lived an hour away. He'd be considered a local."

Fiona bit her lip, unsure. There had to be something that connected these men together, something that was putting a target on their backs.

They just had to find out what it was before another person lost their life.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

As they approached the clearing where the campsite was set up, Fiona noticed a figure standing outside the tent—Hank's wife, the woman they had talked to earlier. She felt sympathy for the woman as she approached and didn't know if she was prepared to deliver this terrible news. But they had to do it.

As Fiona and Jake drew nearer, Fiona could see the woman's face. Her eyes were red and puffy, her blonde hair frazzled. The tent was zipped shut, telling Fiona that the daughter was maybe sleeping inside. That was good. It was best for them to deliver the news without the children there to witness it.

"Mrs. Grayson?" Jake called out as they drew closer.

Her eyes snapped up. She glanced back at the tent, then jogged over to them. "Please, it's Brenda," she said. "Did you find him? Did you find my husband?"

Jake took a deep breath, exchanging a look with Fiona. Fiona's eyes stung, overwhelmed with grief for this poor woman.

"I'm afraid we did, ma'am," Jake said. "I'm sorry, but Hank passed away."

---