Page 40 of Let Her Live

Then she thought of Mark, and she didn't feel much for him at all. She viewed him as obsessive and overbearing. She felt guilty because she could see the nice sides of Mark, too; she was sure another woman out there would be happy to have a man so crazy about them. But Fiona couldn't bring herself to feel the same way. She wished she didn't have to think about this—he'd been able to accept her breaking up with him. Instead, she knew he was waiting for her in Portland, expecting her to get back to him.

She pushed the thought aside and focused on her surroundings. The marsh was peaceful, and she felt more at ease with every step she took. Maybe she would find some sort of insect or bug that would take her mind off everything else. She had always found the intricate details of nature to be fascinating.

As she walked, she heard the crunch of twigs beneath her feet, and she looked down to see a small beetle scurrying across the ground. She crouched down for a closer look, and her entomological instincts took over. The beetle was a common ground beetle, nothing out of the ordinary, but something about the way it moved caught her attention.

When she looked up, she realized she was standing under a cypress tree, much like the one the men had been found tied to, murdered.

A chill ran up her spine. It was a hauntingly beautiful tree. And it occurred to her in a sudden wave that the men had all been tied to a cypress tree—that was another connection between them. The killer had specifically chosen cypress. There were many other types of trees to choose from, and yet every victim had been tied to one of those.

Fiona's heart raced as she considered the possibility that maybe this was the clue they needed. But what did it mean? Was there something about the cypress tree that was significant that could lead them to the killer's identity?

CHAPTER TWENTY

When Fiona got back to the hotel, she burst inside the door to see Jake fully dressed but ruffling his damp, dark hair with a towel. Her cheeks warmed at the sight, but she shoved it down.

"Jake, I think I have something," she said.

Jake put down the towel and looked at her. Concern was etched on his face. "What is it, Red? What did you find?"

Fiona took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. "It's about the trees," she said. "All of the victims were tied to a cypress tree."

Jake's brow furrowed. "And? What does that mean?"

Fiona shook her head. "I don't know, but it seems too coincidental. There must be some significance to it."

Jake stepped closer to her. "Okay, let's look into it."

Fiona sat down at the table, and Jake grabbed a chair, pulling it up next to her. She whipped open her laptop and went online, searching up cypress trees and if they had any significance in the Everglades.

They discovered that cypress trees were a sacred totem to an old tribe in the area. The tribe had long disappeared, but their respect and reverence for the cypress tree remained. In their culture, they believed that the trees offered protection from harm and had healing powers.

Fiona's heart raced as this new information sunk in. It seemed to fit with what they had been looking for all along—the reason why someone would be targeting people connected to cypress trees. If there was some kind of secret cult following or group devoted to this idea of protection, or maybe even revenge through these trees, then it could lead them closer to finding out who had committed these heinous crimes.

"The tribe believes your soul escapes through your eyes when you pass," Fiona noted, reading an article on them.

"That must be why he blindfolds the victims," Jake said.

Fiona nodded. "Exactly. He's trying to trap their souls, to keep them from escaping when they die."

Jake leaned back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. "Okay, so we have a motive. But we still don't know who's behind this."

Fiona chewed on her bottom lip, lost in thought. "We need to find someone who knows about the tribe and their beliefs. Someone who would see cypress trees as significant."

"Is anyone from the tribe still living?" Jake asked. "Maybe they have a base here."

"Let me check," Fiona said as she typed on her laptop. After a moment, she looked up at Jake. "There aren’t many descendants of this tribe left, but there is one person who claims to be an expert, and he lives an hour out of town." Fiona looked up the man's name: "Samuel Stone. He has a website."

Fiona clicked it, bringing up the webpage of Samuel Stone—a Native American artist who mostly made tapestries. His art had a mellow, peaceful aura, and based on the photos of him, with his long black hair and kind face, Fiona had a hard time picturing him being a killer.

But still, they couldn't deny that the connection to the cypress tree, plus the blindfold made Samuel Stone someone they had to speak to.

Jake leaned over Fiona and took over the laptop. She watched as he went into the FBI database and pulled up Samuel Stone's file.

Fiona's heart sank as she saw it at the same time Jake did: Samuel had a record. A record of assault.

"What happened?" she asked aloud, and Jake kept scrolling.

"A land dispute," Jake said. "Samuel's property was originally owned by his people, but it looks like in the 1800s, a man named Joe Barber bought it off the owners had the time for an egregiously low price."

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