Page 32 of Let Her Live

Henry nodded, leaning forward on his desk. "As I'm sure you can see based on my record, I'm not a fan of hunting for sport. But the bosses want to have the animals out there to show nature, and all that. They all died naturally, at least that's what I'm told."

"I see," Jake said. "You're clearly passionate about animals."

"I am," he said. "Now what's this all about? You're certainly not my parole officer, and I haven't done anything wrong."

Fiona cleared her throat and said, "Sir, we have reason to believe there is a serial killer out there who is targeting people who have accidentally killed animals."

"And because you seemed very... passionate about what those boys did to that gator, we wanted to speak with you," Jake finished.

Henry's brows shot up. "What? You thinkI'ma serial killer? Look, you don't know what those guys who killed that animal were like—they provoked me. I know it wasn't right to snap out like I did, but I've been paying for it. I've certainly neverkilledanyone before."

Jake was quiet for a moment, considering it. It made sense that he would take the punishment that was handed to him for defending his property and the animals on it—self-defense for all involved—and be able to move on.

But Henry could still fit the profile of the man they were looking for.

The profile they were still working on, which was the reason he was here. He would have to ask about his motives for animal defense.

"What is your motive for defending animals?" Jake asked.

Henry laughed. "I was a zoologist in school, and my parents were animal lovers. If I see anyone abusing animals, I have a hard time not getting into a fight with them. Even if I'm on my best behavior, I'm not the most calm and collected person when it comes to seeing animals mistreated. Now see, that's not a crime. That's being passionate about animals."

"While I admire your passion," Fiona said, "there's a fine line between the right thing and the wrong thing to do when defending animals."

Henry sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I know that now. I've been working hard to keep my cool around animals and people ever since. I've learned a lot about myself, and come to accept that I have to do what's right, even if it's hard."

"I'm an entomologist myself, so I understand your passion," Fiona said, her voice empathetic.

"There are a lot of people out there who abuse animals—I understand why you hate them so much," Jake said. "The thing is that there's a killer out there who may be targeting people who have killed animals, even by accident."

"I don't know what to tell you," Henry said. He then rolled back in his chair and kicked his foot up on the table. He lived up his pant leg to reveal a device around his ankle—a tracking device. "Talk to my parole officer, Greg Brady, about this bad boy," Henry said. "They didn't trust me not to bail out of state, so here we are. It's not house arrest, but it's the next best thing. You can track my movements pretty damn easily."

"That's good to know," Jake said, looking at the ankle monitor and frowning. "You work with animals all day, and yet you're still passionate about nature."

"I am," Henry said. "I love animals, and I truly believe in the power of nature.Unfortunately, humans are part of that nature. Sure, I might lose my temper sometimes, but killing isn't in my blood."

Jake nodded. If this were all true, it would be easy to confirm Henry's whereabouts at the time of the murders. He'd definitely check with Officer Greg Brady, the parole officer, but until then, he had no just cause to suspect Henry had anything to do with any of this.

As much as it pained him to say it, it looked like they'd just wasted more time—another dead end.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

The drive back toward town was quiet. The sound of the rental car lulled Fiona as Jake drove the two of them in silence. She felt exhausted; the day was only half over, with the afternoon creeping up on them fast, but it felt like they had been working for ages with no progress being made.

The idea of the killer's motive—that he was going after people who killed animals, intentionally or not—still seemed to have some weight in her eyes. The problem was, finding the right person who could fit that description. Many people felt strongly about animals like Henry did, but Henry appeared to be innocent. Jake had called his parole officer and confirmed that he hadn't been anywhere near where Hank had gone missing last night.

They were back to square one.

As Jake drove, Fiona couldn't stop her mind from drifting. She had come all the way out here to help, but what if they couldn't solve the case in time? Would it shake the FBI's confidence in her? She hated the idea of letting them down. More than that, she hated the idea of more people dying under her watch.

Jake was going to drop her off at the coroner's so she could examine Hank's body. She was sure it wouldn't take long, considering the kill was fresh, not in the severe state of decomposition like Derek's body had been. She felt for Brenda and Junie, who had lost a crucial member of their family. Life would never be the same again.

Marissa, the woman who had been best friends with Julia Rowe, crept back into Fiona's mind.

With the case, she hadn't spent much time dwelling on her sister's disappearance or on Julia's case. But something still felt off about her interaction with Marissa. She made a mental note to visit her again when she got back and ask some more questions, just in case there was something she'd left out. Until then, she was here, in Florida. A long way from Portland. It still felt strange, but Fiona knew this was no vacation. There was a serial killer in the Everglades, and it was up to her and Jake to track him down.

"We're here," Jake said.

Fiona lifted her eyes to see that they had indeed pulled up to the country coroner.

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