Page 16 of Let Her Live

Fiona looked around, too, taking in the space. Jake didn't see any weapons, either, although a taxidermy squirrel by the nightstand stood out, its glassy eyes gleaming in the half-light from the moon, pouring in through the windows of the camper.

As creepy as it was, there was no sign of Patrick Yates anywhere and nowhere for him to hide in something as small as this.

Jake moved towards the table and started rummaging through the papers scattered all over it, hoping to find a clue. Fiona followed him, looking over his shoulder in the dim light. They both scanned through the papers, trying to find anything that could lead them to their suspect. But there appeared to be nothing.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

Fiona looked at him, her expression concerned. "What do we do now?" she asked quietly.

Jake pocketed the note and turned to her. "We keep looking," he said firmly. "I have a feeling he's still in the area. He could come back."

Fiona nodded, her eyes determined. They both knew that they couldn't give up now. Patrick Yates was a potentially dangerous man, and they needed to find him before he hurt anyone else.

Just then, a creaking noise sounded behind them.

Jake whirled around—only to see a figure standing there in the doorway to the camper. It was a man with long, straggly brown hair and patchy facial hair. It was Patrick Yates.

Before Jake could open his mouth to speak, Patrick charged forward, letting out an animalistic grunt.

"Stop! FBI!" Jake shouted, but it was too late—Patrick charged him, shoving him into the side of the camper. Fiona yelped and jumped back.

"You're not stealing from me!" Patrick yelled.

Jake grunted as he struggled to push Patrick off him. The man was stronger than he had anticipated, and Jake could feel his grip on his gun slipping. Fiona grabbed onto Patrick's arm, trying to pull him off Jake.

"Get off him!" she yelled, but Patrick wasn't budging. He swung around, hitting Fiona across the face with the back of his hand. She stumbled back, and Jake used the opportunity to kick Patrick in the stomach, sending him falling backward.

Patrick scrambled back to his feet, his eyes wild with anger. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade, flicking it open with a menacing snap.

Jake raised his gun, pointing it directly at Patrick. "Drop the knife!" he ordered.

But Patrick didn't listen. Instead, he lunged forward, brandishing the knife in front of him.

At that moment, Jake knew he had to act quickly.

If he shot Patrick at such close range, it could be lethal, and then they wouldn't have their perp. But if he didn't act quickly, he could get a knife to the gut. Instead, Jake ducked down, avoiding Patrick's lunge, and sent his first flying upward, knocking the knife from Patrick's hand.

Patrick stumbled back, surprised by Jake's quick moves. Jake took the opportunity to grab Patrick's arm and twist it behind his back, pinning him to the ground. Patrick grunted in pain, but Jake kept his grip firm, not wanting to let him go.

"Fiona, cuffs," Jake said, panting from the physical exertion. Fiona quickly grabbed the handcuffs from her belt and cuffed Patrick's hands behind his back.

"I said FBI!" Jake growled, his voice dripping with authority. "You're under arrest, Patrick Yates."

Patrick squirmed beneath him but eventually relaxed. Panting, Jake looked up at Fiona, who nodded at him, her expression panic-stricken.

It was then that he remembered she'd been struck. There was a gash across her cheek from where Patrick had hit her, and Jake left him on the ground, hurrying over to Fiona to examine her cheek.

"You're hurt, Red," he breathed out.

Fiona winced as Jake touched her cheek. His heart hurt, seeing her in pain like this, even if the wound was superficial.

"How's your head?" he asked. "You don't need a hospital, do you?"

Fiona shook her head. "No, no hospital," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be fine. We need to get Patrick back to the station."

Jake hesitated, not wanting to push her too hard. "Are you sure? You need to get that looked at, Red."

But Fiona was insistent. "I'm sure," she said with a small nod. "We can take care of it back at the station."

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