Page 14 of Her Last Confession

"Victor Reeves?" Rachel asked as they approached his open door. The office was immaculate—everything arranged with military precision. A row of financial awards lined one wall, while framed photos of Reeves shaking hands with various politicians decorated another.

"What's this about?" Reeves didn't bother standing. "It's Saturday, and I'm rather busy."

“We’re agents Gift and Novak, with the FBI,” she said, showing her badge. “We’re here to discuss the murder of one of your employees, Sandra Mitchell.”

Rachel studied his face as she said Sandra’s name. The change was subtle but unmistakable—a flicker of genuine shock crossed his features, followed by what appeared to be authentic sadness. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for a glass of water on his desk.

"Sandra's dead?" He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "How?"

If he’s faking his surprise, he’s a good actor,Rachel thought.

She took a deep breath and described the knock-off suicide pod that had been placed in a very random rural location, as well as the evidence that she had been forced inside of it. As she came to the end of the summary, understanding dawned in Reeves's eyes. His posture stiffened, and she could almost see the walls going up.

"So you’re not here to inform me of Sandra’s death, are you?” he asked, incredulous. “You’re here because of my passing connection to EndLight."

"Partly," Rachel confirmed, noting how his left hand twitched slightly. "We also need to discuss the financial fraud allegations."

Reeves's face flushed. For a moment, it seemed like he was caught between two worlds, not sure of which terrible bit of news to address first. "That's not any of your business. I have lawyers handling those matters, and I'm not at liberty to discuss them. Besides that…I don’t quite see what any of that has to do with this…this terrible news.”

"Mr. Reeves," Rachel leaned forward, resting her hands on his desk. "One of your employees is dead. Someone murdered her using technology that your company helped develop, and in a very odd way. We need to understand the connection."

"There is no connection," Reeves snapped, but Rachel caught the slight tremor in his voice. "EndLight just happens to be a product produced by MedTech…a company I am, quite frankly, proud to support. How one of their creations and one of my employees are connected in this terrible tragedy…I have no idea."

Novak stepped forward, his patience visibly wearing thin. "And the fraud?”

Reeves's jaw tightened. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Agent..."

"Novak," he said, voice sharp. "And I think we both know there's more to this story than you're telling us."

Rachel watched the interplay, noting how Reeves's eyes kept darting to his computer screen. Something was making him nervous, and it wasn't just their presence.

"Ms. Mitchell was killed sometime last night between ten and midnight," Novak pressed. "Care to tell us where you were during that window?"

Reeves's composure cracked. He was practically fuming with anger as his eyes left the agents and focused on his keyboard. He jabbed at his laptop keyboard, bringing up recorded security footage. He then spun the laptop to face Novak, shoving it so hard that Rachel thought it might fly right off of his desk.

"I was right here," Reeves snapped, fast-forwarding through hours of footage showing him in a boardroom with several other people. The timestamp clearly showed him present from early evening through past midnight.

"I washere, in this damned building from eight in the morning until 12:30 at night. I was in an investors meeting that ran long." He stood, planting his hands on his desk. "You can verify with everyone who was there. Hell, check the building logs, the security cameras…watch this footage to your heart’s content! Whatever you want." His voice rose with each word. "Now... anything else, agents?"

Rachel studied the footage playing on the screen. Reeves was clearly visible in most shots, engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion with several other men in suits. But something about his eagerness to provide the alibi nagged at her. Maybe he was just pissed off, sure, but he seemed more defensive than the situation called for.

"These investors," she said carefully, "they wouldn't happen to be connected to EndLight, would they?"

Reeves's face reddened further. "Get out," he growled. "You want to ask more questions? Talk to my lawyers."

Rachel caught Novak's eye, giving him a subtle head shake. She recognized the look on Reeves's face—they'd pushed as far as they could without things getting ugly. "Thank you for yourtime, Mr. Reeves. We'll be in touch if we have any additional questions."

The walk back to the elevator was tense. She could feel Reeves watching them, his eyes boring into their backs as they left his office. Their footsteps echoing through the empty office. Rachel's mind was already racing ahead, plotting their next moves. They needed to dig deeper into EndLight and MedTech Solutions. Something wasn't adding up, but she couldn't put her finger on what. And as much as she’d love to keep thinking Reeves had something to do with it, she went back to the moment she had revealed Sandra’s death to him. He had genuinely seemed to be shocked.

As they waited for the elevator, Rachel glanced back at Reeves's office. He was still standing at his desk, watching them. There was something in his posture that bothered her—a nervousness that seemed at odds with his alibi.

"He's hiding something," Novak muttered as they stepped into the elevator.

Rachel nodded. "Maybe. But what?" She pressed the lobby button, watching the doors slide closed. "And is it related to Sandra Mitchell's murder, or just the fraud?"

"I don’t know,” Rachel said. “But he did seem legitimately shocked to hear about Sandra.”

“Yeah, Novak said, sounding almost disappointed. “I noticed that, too.”

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