Page 11 of Let Her Run

Jake nodded, and the two of them began to move through the rest of the house, checking rooms and looking for any sort of evidence. Fiona felt a sense of dread as she walked through the quiet, undisturbed home, starting with the living room. The forensics team had already made their sweep, but some officers were still around, taking hair samples.

As they moved through the living room, Fiona's eyes fell on a framed picture sitting on a side table. It depicted Sharon smiling, arm in arm, with a man who looked to be in his late forties. Fiona picked up the frame and examined it closely. This must have been a relative, or maybe her ex-fiancé.

Fiona made her way up to the second floor with Jake, her feet padding over the soft carpet. She noted that there were no signs of a struggle anywhere in the house. It was as if the killer had come and gone without leaving a trace.

As she walked into the first bedroom, she noticed that one of the windows was open slightly. Fiona moved closer, examining the sill. There were no signs of forced entry, but she could see that the roof would be easy to climb.

"Could the killer have gotten in this way?" she asked Jake.

Jake followed her gaze to the open window. He moved closer, examining it as well.

"It's possible," he said before pulling out his phone and taking a picture of the window. "We should check to see if there were any footprints on the roof or any other indication that someone might have climbed up there."

Fiona nodded in agreement. They both left the room, making their way downstairs and to the backyard. The early summer sun shone down on them, and Fiona squinted against it as she took in Sharon's well-manicured backyard. One thing was certain: she took good care of her home. Everything seemed to be in pristine order, and the garden was too well-cared-for to be done by Sharon alone. She suspected a professional landscaping crew was responsible for the array of healthy flowers and perfectly-placed soil, complemented by sparkling stones.

Fiona and Jake walked to the edge of the roof, examining it for any signs that someone had come this way. They checked for footprints by the roof but found none, not even a single out-of-place pebble or leaf. It seemed that whoever had visited Sharon on that fateful day had done so without leaving a trace.

Just then, Fiona heard a distinct buzzing sound. It was like a violent hum--something she'd never misplaced. As an entomologist, it was her job to recognize the sounds insects made, and she was certain that it sounded like a wasp nest.

"Jake, do you hear that?" she asked.

He nodded and followed her gaze to the roof. Sure enough, a wasp nest was tucked away in one corner of the roof, hidden among the vines.

"They are quite active," Fiona commented. She frowned. It was probably nothing, but: "Sharon seemed to care very much about keeping things in order, yet she left this wasp nest."

"Maybe she's allergic," Jake said. "Didn't want to deal with them."

"Right," Fiona said. He was probably right; after all, wasps weren't what killed Sharon French or Glen Hartwell, and it probably wasn't anything at all.

But still, something about the wasp nest bothered Fiona. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she was missing, something important.

Either way, there seemed to be no clues here that would lead them to Sharon French's killer. And with that being the case, Fiona was sure she could understand more if she actually saw Sharon's body.

"I think it's time we head to the coroner's," she told Jake.

CHAPTER FIVE

The coroner's office was a stark contrast to Sharon's pristine home. It was cold and clinical, and the smell of disinfectant hung heavily in the air, stinging Fiona's nose. Fiona and Jake were ushered into a small room, where a middle-aged man in a lab coat was waiting for them.

"I'm Dr. Cohen," he said, extending a hand to Fiona. "You must be the team working on the French case."

Jake offered his hand. "Yes, I'm Agent Jake Tucker, and this is Fiona Red, forensic specialist."

Fiona nodded and shook his hand. "We were hoping to see the victim's body and get a better idea of what we're dealing with."

"Of course," he said. "Right this way."

Dr. Cohen led them through a maze of hallways until they reached the morgue. He pushed open the door, revealing a room filled with metal tables and cabinets. The air was freezing, and Fiona could see her breath in front of her.

A sense of dread settled heavily in Fiona's stomach. She had seen too many murder victims in her time as an agent-in-training, but each one still affected her in some way.

Sharon's body was lying on a table in the center of the room, covered with a white sheet. Fiona felt a pang of sadness as she looked at the still form. This was a person, someone with hopes and dreams and a life that had been snuffed out too soon.

Dr. Cohen pulled back the sheet, revealing Sharon's face. Fiona steeled herself and leaned in for a closer look.

The first thing she noticed was the complete stillness of her, as though she were merely sleeping and suspended in time. It was a remarkably clean death, with no immediate signs of trauma. But Fiona could see the evidence of poison--the yellowish tinge around her eyes, which were thankfully closed shut.

Jake hung back, watching with his arms crossed over his chest. Fiona shot him a look, comforted by his presence in the room, even if things did feel slightly awkward between them now. She was still in shock he had brought up the kiss--more than that, she was shocked at what she'd said. That they couldn't do it again. It was true--Fiona knew it was for the best, but even still. She couldn't deny her feelings for Jake, but now, after that, she was sure he probably felt like she didn't want him that way at all. Which, as much as she tried to deny it, wasn't true.

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