Page 46 of Let Her Run

Fiona hesitated, unwilling to give away too much until she was sure of what she'd found. "I'm not entirely certain yet," she admitted. "But I wanted to take another look around, see if there was anything we missed that could help us understand what happened to Glen."

Cate nodded slowly, her expression somber. "In that case, maybe start with his office. It's upstairs, the second door on the left. I haven't been able to bring myself to go in, but if there was anything about Glen that can help... it would be in there."

"Thank you," Fiona said, making her way up the grand staircase. The plush carpet muffled her footsteps, adding to the eerie silence that seemed to have settled over the house.

Upon entering Glen's office, Fiona took a moment to survey the room. The space was impeccably organized, with neat stacks of paper on the desk and shelves filled with books on business and finance. There was nothing that immediately struck her as out of the ordinary.

"Focus, Fiona," she muttered to herself, scanning the room more carefully. She noticed a photo of Glen and Cate on the desk, and it made her heart hurt. Glen seemed like a nice man, a good father and husband. He didn't deserve this.

Fiona kept looking.

On the bookshelf, a small figurine caught her eye. It was a small, carved elephant, and something about it made her pause. She walked over to it, picked it up, and examined it more closely. As she turned it over in her hand, she noticed a small inscription on the bottom: "To my sweet Glen, always remember who you are."

Once more, Fiona's heart lurched. he carefully set it back in its place and began to search the surrounding area, looking for any other clues. Her eyes fell on Glen's calendar, hanging above his desk. She moved closer and noticed a scribbled note in one of the boxes: " Call Bug Hero for quote."

Her pulse quickened. Bug Hero? Based on the name, that obviously sounded like another pest control service. But they hadn't come across it in their research. She pulled out her phone and searched for the company. The results displayed a small, locally-owned business with one employee: Harrison Greene.

The website was janky and simple, like something that hadn't been updated in decades. Harrison's photo on the 'about' page showed the headshot of a man with pale, sagging blue eyes and a smile that didn't reach them. Patchy grey hair along his face. The 'about' section read:

Harrison Greene launched Bug Hero two decades ago. A dedicated pest control specialist, his focus is on removing pests inhumane ways. Contact him for a quote.

Humane ways... it seemed innocuous, but Fiona also knew they might be looking for someone who views themselves as a savior to insects, a vigilante even.

But one connection to Glen wasn't enough. Roger didn't have any family to call, but Sharon French had an ex-fiancé. Fiona's fingers trembled as she dialed the number of Sharon French's ex-fiancé, her heart pounding in her chest. The phone rang once, twice, before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Duke? This is Fiona Red with the FBI--we met the other day."

"I remember you," he said. "Did you find something about Sharon?"

"Actually, I need a favor," she said, cutting right to the chase. "Can you find out if Sharon called a company called Bug Hero for a quote? It might be important."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Well, I still have a key to her house. I can go check and call you back. Won't take more than five minutes."

"Thanks," Fiona replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She hung up and began pacing the length of Glen's office, her mind racing with possibilities. What if this connection was more than a mere coincidence? What if Harrison Greene was somehow involved in all three deaths? If that were the case, then the man they arrested--Teddy--was innocent, and the real killer was still out there.

Fiona pulled up her browser and began searching for any information she could find on Harrison Greene. But the digital trail was scant, yielding only a handful of articles about his small business and a few testimonials from satisfied customers.

"Damn it, there has to be something more," she muttered, frustration gnawing at her insides like an itch she couldn't scratch.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she waited for the call that could potentially change everything. Her leg bounced up and down, her foot tapping a staccato rhythm on the plush carpet. Every creak, every sigh of the old house seemed amplified in the silence, adding to her growing sense of unease.

Finally, her phone buzzed in her hand, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet room. She answered her voice tight with anticipation.

"Did you find anything?"

"Bug Hero," Duke confirmed, his breath heavy on the line. "There's a quote from them in one of Sharon's notebooks."

"Thank you," Fiona said, her throat constricting with a mix of gratitude and dread. She hung up and immediately dialed Jake's number. Within a few rings, he picked up.

"Red, where are you? I've been--"

"Jake," cut in, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I think I know who the real killer is."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

The rain-slicked streets of Portland glistened under the dim glow of streetlights as he drove his truck through the city, even though the storm had long passed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles turning white.

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