Page 21 of Let Her Hide

Fiona saw Jake's grip on his gun tighten slightly. They were both on high alert, ready for anything. "We're investigating a series of homicides," Jake said carefully. "And we have reason to believe that you might have some information that could be helpful."

Fred's face paled slightly, and Fiona could see a flicker of fear in his eyes before he tried to mask it. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about any homicides," he said, his voice shaking slightly.

"Listen, Mr. Johnson," Jake began, his tone firm yet controlled. "We have probable cause to believe you might know something. Someone who purchased something from your business has been killed. We can either do this the easy way, or we can come back with a warrant."

Fiona watched as Fred's expression shifted from defiance to fear, his eyes widening ever so slightly. She knew that if he was guilty, now was the time to press their advantage and gain access to his home. If they could find even a shred of evidence linking him to Carrie Puglisi's murder, it would be worth the risk.

"I don't know," Fred said, "it's really not a good time. I'm very busy right now."

Fiona was surprised he'd still resist them. What, exactly, was he hiding? Her apprehension of the man in front of her grew.

"Mr. Johnson," Fiona spoke up, her voice firm and commanding. "We have reason to believe that you possess a hornet that matches the description of the one that killed Carrie Puglisi. A black-bellied hornet. It's in your collection, isn't it?"

Fred's eyes darted between the two agents, his breathing growing more rapid. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice shaking now. "I've never sold to anyone by that name."

"But you sold to Craig Tozer," Jake pointed out.

At this, Fred's expression shifted. “Maybe I did. What’s this really about? Did Angela send you?”

Angela was Fred’s ex-wife, Fiona recalled. The one he had allegedly been harassing. It seemed as though the harassment had stopped a couple of years ago, but clearly, Fred still held some resentment. Once more, Fiona's apprehension grew.

"We didn't come here on anyone's behalf, Mr. Johnson," Jake said, his voice steady. "We're here to investigate a murder, and we have reason to believe that you might be involved."

Fred's eyes flicked between them, his expression growing more guarded. Fiona could feel the tension in the air thickening, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as they waited for Fred's next move.

"I don't know anything about any murder," Fred said, his voice shaking slightly.

But Fiona wasn't convinced. There was something off about Fred--the way he was shifting his weight subtly, the way his eyes kept darting around the room. It was as if he was hiding something.

"Mr. Johnson," Fiona spoke up, her voice low and commanding. "We have probable cause to search your home. If you have nothing to hide, then you have nothing to worry about."

Fred's expression grew even more guarded, and Fiona could see the tension coiled within him.

Fred's expression darkened. "I don't appreciate being accused of something I didn't do," he spat. "You have no right to barge into my home and make these accusations."

Fiona could feel the tension in the air, the hostility crackling between them like static electricity. She knew things could turn violent at any moment, and she tensed, ready for action.

"Look," Jake said, his voice calm and reasonable. "We're not here to cause trouble. We just want to talk to you and see if you have any information that could be helpful. If you're innocent, then you have nothing to worry about."

Fred hesitated, his eyes flicking around nervously.

Fiona held her breath.

Then, Fred said, “All right. Come in.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Fiona was surprised Fred was so willing to invite Jake and her into his home.

He seemed to deflate before them, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled a deep sigh of defeat. Fiona stepped inside cautiously, marveling at the sheer amount of specimens that filled the room. It was like a mini museum, with rows upon rows of exotic insects encased in glass and carefully labeled. The walls were adorned with photos of Fred standing proudly beside his various collections. It was clear to see that he was passionate about his work-- and Fiona could only imagine the sense of pride he must have felt when acquiring such rare pieces for his home.

Fred showed them to a cramped study off to the side, its walls lined with bookshelves overflowing with volumes on entomology.

"Quite an... interesting collection you have here," Fiona commented, her gaze sweeping across the room. Every available surface was covered with glass cases and terrariums, each one filled with a variety of insects—some dead, others very much alive. The hum of wings and the skittering of legs on glass mingled with the low drone of fluorescent lights overhead.

Fred shifted uncomfortably on his feet, watching them closely. "It's my passion," he said defensively, as though anticipating their judgment. "I collect and breed rare specimens."

"Indeed," Fiona murmured, her attention drawn to a large case containing a hornet that looked strikingly similar to the one that had killed Carrie Puglisi. Her heart rate quickened, but she forced herself to remain composed. "And some of these are not exactly legal to possess, are they?"

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