Jack and Hannah exchanged bewildered glances. What was going on? In the surveillance footage, Katherine Sloan and Pete Hill's intimate behavior had been undeniable. Sure, Americans were known for being open-minded, but colleagues kissing and embracing in that manner? That was way beyond a professional relationship. Even Jack, who wasn't exactly a stickler for propriety, knew better than to act like that in front of coworkers.
After getting the address of Katherine's official boyfriend, Eli Dofflinger, from her parents, Jack and Hannah made a quick exit. There was no need to tarnish the grieving parents' image of their daughter. Western culture, like many others, avoids speaking ill of the dead. Eulogies at funerals are typically filled with only positive memories.
Caldwell, where Eli lived, was a suburban area about 20 kilometers northwest of Forrest City. It was a short drive, even at this late hour. With no mobile command center on-site and limited time, the team had rented the pool bar where the murders occurred as a temporary base of operations.
Aubrey, always quick to flaunt his wealth, casually wrote the bar owner a $500 check to cover a three-day rental. The redneck owner, initially worried the murder scene would ruin business, left with a grin so wide it nearly reached his ears. FBI funding allowed for reimbursement, but since Aubrey, a former Wall Street executive, controlled the team's budget, no one worried about financial oversight. For someone with his wealth, a few hundred dollars was insignificant.
Alice's preliminary research revealed that Eli Dofflinger was the son of a local farm owner. He operated a modest farm of his own in Caldwell. Though not wealthy, Eli came from a solid middle-class background, which made him a fitting partner for someone like Katherine—at least for her current career stage. If Katherine had lived and fulfilled her dream of becoming a judge, it would have marked a significant rise in social status, even in a small town like Forrest City.
Interestingly, Pete Hill's father was a judge in Little Rock, suggesting a possible motive behind Katherine's affair. With her tall, blonde, blue-eyed looks, Katherine had the kind of youthful charm that could attract influential connections. It wasn't hard to imagine her juggling two relationships to secure her ambitions. While calling her a "player" might have been excessive, her two-timing undoubtedly placed her boyfriend Eli under suspicion.
To be cautious, Jack had summoned Clive and Aubrey to meet them outside the farm. The four agents then approached the property together.
"Blood," Aubrey noted, spotting a long trail of red leading from tire tracks to the back of the farmhouse.
"Stay alert," Jack ordered.
They drew their weapons and followed the blood trail to a small shed in the backyard. Parked nearby was a Ford F-150, its bed lined with a blue tarp, which was dripping fresh blood.
Inside the shed, a large figure, facing away from them, appeared to be working on something. The strong stench of blood and a strange gamey odor filled the air.
"FBI! Eli Dofflinger, drop the knife!" Aubrey shouted, aiming his weapon at the figure, who seemed oblivious to their presence.
Eli flinched, dropping a boning knife to the floor. He turned around, revealing a broad, innocent-looking face and a blood-soaked leather apron.
Jack let out a silent sigh, holstered his gun, and shook his head. The scene in front of him explained everything: a gutted wild boar lay on the workbench.
"I have a hunting permit. It's wild boar season," Eli stammered in a thick Southern accent, raising his hands nervously. "We're supposed to cull them to help maintain the ecosystem."
"Yeah, we know. And the FBI doesn't deal with hunting violations," Jack replied, covering his nose and stepping into the smelly shed. He glanced at the carcass. There were no firearms inside; the boar had likely been caught in a trap. A large crossbow bolt had pierced its head, not a bullet wound.
The amateurish butchering job explained the excess blood. Poorly drained meat like this wouldn't taste great, but wild boar—descendants of feral pigs—was still considered a delicacy in some Southern restaurants. Despite concerns about disease, many rednecks didn't care. The real problem with wild boar overpopulation in America wasn't health risks but the lack of predators and the high cost of hunting them. Most people preferred the convenience of store-bought beef.
"So, what's going on here?" Eli asked in a deep, puzzled voice as the agents lowered their weapons.
Jack inspected him for hidden weapons, finding none. He patted Eli's shoulder and gestured for him to lower his hands. "We need to know where you were around 3 a.m. this morning."
"I was out hunting," Eli replied, removing his bloody apron and tossing it aside. His face remained clouded with confusion.
"Hunting in the middle of the night?" Aubrey asked skeptically.
"Of course. It takes three hours to get to my hunting spot. I had to wake up at 1 a.m. to make it there before sunrise."
Despite his naïve appearance, Eli wasn't dumb. Realizing the FBI's serious demeanor, he grew increasingly anxious. "Please… can you tell me what's going on?"
Hannah, with her natural Southern charm, softened her tone and slipped into her own Texas accent. "I'm sorry to say this, but Katherine Sloan was murdered last night."
"What?" Eli gasped, stepping forward instinctively. He froze when Aubrey's hand moved toward his gun again.
"Easy, big guy," Clive said, stepping between them. "We know you were dating her. That's why we're here."
Tears welled up in Eli's eyes. "We've been together for four years. She's a good girl. Why would anyone hurt her?"
"Well," Aubrey said, crossing his arms, "maybe you found out she was fooling around with Pete Hill and snapped."
"Wait—hold on," Eli interrupted, eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you saying Kate was cheating on me?"
"Good luck with this," Jack muttered, giving Aubrey a glare before turning to Eli, who had broken down in tears. The large man was sobbing uncontrollably, like a 200-pound child, making it impossible to get any more information out of him.
Whether Eli was crying over Katherine's death or the betrayal, it was hard to tell, but his reaction seemed genuine. His alibi could also be easily verified since he hadn't gone hunting alone. Other hunters had been with him.
By the time the team returned to the pool bar, the sun had set. Jubal and JJ were already there, sorting through stacks of case files on the bar counter.
Jack set the takeout food on a small table and flipped through a random file. It was related to the illegal sale of moonshine. Alcohol laws in the U.S. were notoriously strict—requiring a drinking age of 21 and taxing production heavily.
Even though Prohibition ended nearly a century ago, moonshining remained lucrative in remote parts of the country. Most of the files Jack skimmed through were related to this kind of activity, with the occasional arson or sexual assault case mixed in.
"I swear, if I have to look at one more moonshine case, I'm gonna puke," Jubal groaned. He was already sensitive to alcohol and found the topic particularly grating.
"When we visited the DA's office, Skip Hardy was organizing five years' worth of felony records. He's convinced the killer is someone tied to one of those cases," JJ explained, looking equally drained.
In places like this, serious crime often went unreported, not because crime rates were low, but because many cases never made it to law enforcement. The vast, sparsely populated landscape meant that bodies could easily be dumped in remote areas. Families would report loved ones as missing, but missing person cases were rarely prioritized.
Instead, sheriff's offices focused on busting moonshiners, which promised quick cash and easy arrests. As a result, nearly 90% of the files on the bar were moonshine-related crimes. The rest were a chaotic mix of arson, assault, and other sporadic felonies—enough to make anyone's head spin.
(End of Chapter)
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