Page 32 of For Silence

"Patterns emerge, Nash," Morgan countered. "People seek substitutes."

"Substitutes?" Nash scoffed. "You think I'm replacing my daughter with... what? Murder?" He shook his head, mocking pity painted on his features. "You agents really have your heads screwed up."

"Where does this leave your ex-wife in all this?" Derik asked.

"Call her!" Nash shot back, defiant. "She'll tell you. Even after all the crap between us, she knows I'm no murderer."

"Your relationship with her—"

"Complicated," he interrupted, his tone softening ever so slightly. "We fight like hell, but Sandy, she knows me. She knows despite all my flaws—and I got plenty—I'd never lay a hand on another person like that. Not in violence. I'm an asshole, but not a psycho."

"Assholes can be killers, too," Morgan remarked dryly.

"Sure, but not this one," Nash said firmly. "You want an alibi? You want someone who hates my guts to clear my name? Call her. She's the best you got because I got nothing else for you."

"Is that right?" Derik leaned forward, elbows on the table, locking eyes with Nash. "Just an innocent man caught in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"Story of my life," Nash muttered, looking away. "But you go ahead, dial her up. See what she has to say about good ol' Teddy Nash."

Morgan eyed Theodore Nash across the cold metal table, the fluorescent light casting stark shadows on his gaunt face. His blue eyes held a defiant gleam as she circled like a predator closing in on its prey.

"You knew the victims, Nash," Morgan stated flatly, her dark hair framing her intense gaze.

"Knew of them," he corrected quickly, a sneer edging his voice. "Heard about it on the news, overheard lawyers yapping at the courthouse. That's it." Theodore sighed, exasperation bleeding through his false bravado. "I mop floors, empty trash cans. I'm not exactly in the social circle of attorneys and judges."

"Yet here we are," she shot back, unmoved by his attempt at innocence.

Theodore's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Yeah, here we are."

"Let's take five," Derik interjected, catching Morgan's eye. She nodded once, her thoughts a swirling vortex of doubt and suspicion.

Stepping outside the interrogation room, Morgan felt the weight of the case pressing down on her. Derik leaned against the hallway wall, his green eyes searching her face for an inkling of her thoughts.

"Something doesn't add up," Morgan admitted, tapping her fingers against her arm—an old habit when uncertainty crept in. "No alibi, sure, but Nash doesn't strike me as our guy."

"His type is all too common, though. Lonely, angry, feels wronged by the world—and his wife," Derik pointed out, his voice tinged with the weariness of too many cases, too many faces.

"True," Morgan conceded, her gut twisting as she mulled over Nash's words. "But anger doesn't always mean guilt. We'll see what Sandy has to say."

"Still," Derik said, rubbing the back of his neck, "the lack of remorse, his history at the courthouse... He fits a certain profile."

"Profiles aren't proof," Morgan countered, her mind racing as she considered every angle. "And we can't afford tunnel vision."

"Agreed," Derik replied, offering a small, supportive smile. "Maybe Sandy's insight will shed some light."

"Maybe." Morgan chewed on her lip, feeling the familiar pull of intuition tugging her in an uncertain direction. She was about to speak again when an agent burst down the corridor, urgency etched on his face.

Morgan pressed the phone's speaker button with a deliberate thumb, the click echoing in the stillness of the corridor.

"Sandy Nash?" Her voice was steady, betraying none of the turmoil churning inside her.

"Speaking," came the cautious reply, tinged with the hum of domestic life—a television droning in the background, the clink of dishes perhaps.

"Agent Morgan Cross, FBI," Morgan introduced herself, her gaze on Derik who stood nearby, arms folded, his eyes sharp with anticipation. "I'm calling about Theodore—your ex-husband."

There was a beat of silence, then a muted gasp. "Theo? What's he done now?"

"We're questioning him regarding the recent murders of three women linked to the courthouse," Morgan said, choosing each word with care, watching Derik’s reaction closely.

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