Page 34 of Let Her Hide

"Such a terrible tragedy," he murmured, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "But perhaps it was for the best."

He had been quiet for years after that incident, biding his time and honing his skills with the bees. But recently, something had awakened within him, a simmering desire for vengeance that threatened to boil over.

Every abandoned child is like a drone, cast out and left to die,he thought bitterly, recalling the file he had stumbled upon just a few weeks ago.

"Hey, can you help me with this?" called Sarah, one of the clinic's therapists, from the doorway of his office. He blinked, startled by the intrusion, and looked up to see her holding a stack of patient files.

"Of course," he replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. "What do you need?"

"Dr. Grayson asked me to pull some files for her, but I can't find one of them. It's for a guy named Freddie."

"Let me take a look," he said, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the file. As he flipped through the pages, he could sense the darkness within him stirring, eager to be unleashed once more. Every time he flipped through patient files, he felt like he was window shopping.

"Here it is," he announced, handing the file to Sarah. "I must have misplaced it earlier."

"Thanks," she replied, smiling warmly as she took the file from him. "You're a lifesaver."

"Of course," he murmured, watching her leave his office before turning back to his bees. "We all have our roles to play, after all. And Sarah--can you close the door on your way out?"

Sarah gave him a long look but nodded and closed the door. Trapped inside alone now, the fluorescent lights above cast an eerie glow on the rows of file cabinets, their cold steel surfaces gleaming like the wings of his precious insects. He moved with purpose, pulling open drawers and rifling through folders as soft whispers echoed in his head. He continued his search, his fingers trembling with anticipation as they traced the names on each folder. Each one held a story, a tragedy, a potential target. But it wasn't just any victim he sought – no, he craved someone with a connection to that deep-rooted pain that still festered within him.

"Abandoned," he whispered to himself, drawing strength from the word as he continued his hunt. The buzzing in his ears grew louder, drowning out the oppressive silence that threatened to suffocate him.

He had to stop the noise.

He had to kill again.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

As Jake entered the courthouse, a chill ran down his spine. The imposing building had always intimidated him, even after so many years as an FBI agent. He scanned the bustling hallways, searching for any sign of the judge who the warrant request had been sent to. He needed that warrant approval, and he needed it fast.

"Excuse me," Jake said, approaching the reception desk. He flashed his FBI badge to the young woman, who was working diligently on her computer. "I'm looking for Judge Miriam Brown. Can you direct me to her chambers?"

"Take the elevator to the third floor," the receptionist replied, barely looking up from her computer. "Her office is the first door on the right."

"Thank you," Jake muttered, striding towards the elevator. His mind raced with thoughts of the case, the urgency of their investigation weighing heavily on him. They were running out of time, and he knew it.

Upon reaching the third floor, Jake found himself in front of a heavy oak door, the name 'Judge Miriam Brown' etched onto a brass plate. He raised a hand to knock, hesitating for a moment before steeling himself and rapping sharply on the wood.

"Come in," called a stern voice from within.

Jake opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, shelves lined with legal tomes giving the space an air of solemnity. Sitting behind an enormous mahogany desk was Judge Miriam Brown, an older woman with sharp eyes that seemed to pierce straight through him.

Jake flashed his badge. “Agent Jake Tucker of the FBI, Your Honor.”

“Agent Tucker,” she said, acknowledging him with a nod. "You’re the one who sent that warrant request today.”

"Yes, Your Honor," Jake replied respectfully, his hands clasped behind his back. "I'm here to discuss that. We need access to the personal files at the mental health clinic, and we need them now.”

"Sit down, Agent," Miriam sighed, gesturing to a chair in front of her desk. As Jake took a seat, she leaned back in her own, studying him with a critical gaze. "I've looked over your request, and I must say, I'm not entirely convinced."

"Your Honor," Jake began, desperation creeping into his voice. "We have reason to believe that a patient at the clinic holds vital information regarding a dangerous criminal. Time is of the essence."

"I understand the urgency of your situation," Miriam replied, her expression softening ever so slightly. "However, obtaining a warrant to search all personal files at a mental health clinic is no walk in the park. I need more than just a hunch to justify such an invasion of privacy."

"Your Honor, two of the victims attended this clinic—” Jake started, but Miriam held up a hand to silence him.

"Agent, my hands are tied," she said firmly. "I cannot grant this warrant based on your current evidence. I'll need to run it past my colleague, who will be coming in later. She had a family emergency, hence why this is taking more time than it usually would.”

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