Page 27 of Let Her Run

"Nothing," Jake finally said his voice tight with anger and exhaustion. "We're back where we started."

Fiona looked down at the list of names before her, feeling a mix of desperation and determination churning within her. She couldn't let this killer continue to evade them – too many lives had already been lost. And yet, she knew that finding him wouldn't be easy.

"Alright," she said, taking a deep breath and meeting Jake's gaze. "Let's keep looking. We'll find him, eventually. We have to."

"Agreed," Jake replied, his eyes dark and unreadable. Together, they turned back to their laptops, ready to delve into these names once more.

Fiona had a list to work with, at the very least, the poison control people who had records. She got another name--Brad Grant. But he'd moved to Florida two years ago. It couldn't be him.

"Brad Grant is in Florida," Fiona said, her voice laced with frustration as she crossed out another name. She glanced over at Jake, who was scanning through his own list of potential suspects, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Damn," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "This is getting us nowhere."

Fiona sighed and leaned back in her chair, allowing herself a brief moment to close her eyes and clear her mind. The crushing weight of their investigation bore down on her, but she couldn't let it break her spirit. She opened her eyes again, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"Let's take a step back," she suggested her tone firm and focused. "We might be overlooking someone important. Maybe we need to broaden our search parameters."

"Alright," Jake agreed, his fingers pausing over the keyboard. "How do you suggest we do that?"

"Instead of just looking for people connected to poison control with criminal records," Fiona began, her thoughts forming into a new plan, "let's also consider those who've had access to Cyphaclide in other ways. Maybe they've worked in industries where the chemical is used or have previously been involved in cases involving it."

"Good idea," Jake nodded, his eyes lighting up with renewed determination. "That could give us more options to work with."

As they began their new approach, diving deeper into the seemingly endless pool of potential suspects, Fiona couldn't ignore the nagging feeling at the back of her mind – the feeling that time was running out and that the killer was always one step ahead of them. But she refused to let fear hold her back.

***

A couple hours later, the morning sun was in full force through the windows, and Fiona's eyes burned as she stared at the screen, the harsh blue light straining her vision. Looking at a screen for this long was never easy, and so she pulled back, letting out a tired sigh.

"Anything?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Nothing," Jake replied through gritted teeth, frustration evident in his tone. "We've gone through dozens of names, and not one of them fits the bill."

Fiona tried to suppress a yawn, but it escaped her nonetheless. She was tired and running on pure coffee. Her stomach nearly growled, and she clutched onto it in embarrassment. But Jake apparently noticed because he said, "Trust me, me too. I'm starving. We should get some food."

As much as Fiona wanted that, she was hyper-focused on their task. She felt close but still too far away.

"Alright," she said, determination steeling her spine. "One last sweep first. Maybe we missed something."

"Fine," Jake agreed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "But after that, we need a good breakfast. We're no good to anyone if we can't function."

"Deal," Fiona nodded, turning her attention back to the screen.

As they sifted through the endless digital records, the silence between them grew heavier, punctuated only by the quiet sound of their breathing and the occasional frustrated sigh. Every lead seemed to circle back to the same dead-end, mocking their efforts and taunting them with the knowledge that they were getting nowhere.

Then, just as Fiona felt herself slipping into the abyss of despair, she spotted it – a name that had somehow eluded her notice before. Her heart leaped in her chest as she read the details: a poison control specialist with a criminal record for stealing and trying to sell dangerous chemicals, including Cyphaclide.

"Jake," she said urgently, her voice trembling with excitement and fatigue. "I think I found him."

"What?" he asked, his eyes snapping to hers as he leaned closer. "Are you sure?"

"Look," she pointed at the screen, her finger hovering over the name: Owen Peterson.

"Owen Peterson," Jake read aloud, his brow furrowing in concentration as he processed the information. "Former poison control specialist, a criminal record for theft and dealing dangerous chemicals. It fits. I can't believe we missed this guy."

"It's because he was fired before he went to jail," Fiona said. "He didn't show up on my list."

"Either way," Jake said, his eyes blazing with renewed determination. "This could be huge. Look." He pointed to the screen, and Fiona's heart rate picked up. What Jake had read only further confirmed her theory.

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