Page 10 of For Rage

Morgan knocked on the door. Moments later, they were greeted at the door by a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a solemn expression. Morgan recognized him from his file: Jim Alba. He didn't have much emotion on his face, barely even looked upset, considering his wife was murdered today.

"I'm Special Agent Morgan Cross with the FBI," Morgan said, showing her badge. "This is Special Agent Derik Greene. Are you Jim Alba?"

He nodded. "I'm assuming this is about my wife."

"We're sorry for your loss," Morgan said.

Jim nodded, then stepped aside to let them in. Morgan and Derik followed him into the living room, where they took a seat on the couch. By all accounts, it looked to be a charming home. The living room was a cheerful and inviting space with two comfortable couches in a sunny yellow hue, a modern coffee table with glossy black finish, and cream-colored walls dotted with bright, abstract art pieces. On the mantle was a photo of Grace, smiling, and Jim, smiling, too, but with more darkness in his eyes. Morgan eyed Jim up as he sat down on one of the couches, gesturing for Morgan and Derik to do the same. Morgan sat down on the stiff couch, breathing in the smell of the vanilla candle on the end table beside her.

"I'm sorry to bother you at home, Mr. Alba," Morgan said. "We just have a few questions about your wife, Grace, if you don't mind."

Jim nodded, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "Of course. Anything to help find who did this to her. I already told the police everything I know, but ..."

"It won't take long," Derik said.

Morgan noticed Jim's eyes flicker toward the door, as if he were thinking about making a run for it. She leaned forward, her eyes locked on his. "We just need to clear up some details, Mr. Alba. Can you tell us about your relationship with your wife?"

Jim cleared his throat. "We had our ups and downs like any marriage. But we were happy. I loved her."

"And did she ever mention if she was having any problems, or if anyone was bothering her?" Morgan asked.

Jim shook his head. "No, she didn't say anything like that. She was pretty private about those sorts of things."

Morgan leaned back, studying Jim's face. There was something off about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "Can you tell us where you were this morning?"

"I was here," he said. "I drove Milly to school. Grace was supposed to be at work, but obviously, that never happened."

"You don't seem very torn up about that," Derik pointed out. "Your wife has just been murdered, Mr. Alba."

Jim glanced around, but his expression remained dull. "I was raised in a household where showing emotion is considered a weakness. I have my own way of coping with this. I'm more concerned about my daughter."

"Where is your daughter?" Morgan asked.

"I dropped her off with her babysitter," Jim replied. "She doesn't know what's happened yet. I'm still getting everything prepared."

Convenient,Morgan thought. "Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts at the time Grace was murdered?" she asked.

Jim's eyes flashed. "Excuse me?"

"They're just standard questions," Derik intercepted.

"It sounds like you're accusing me of murdering my wife," Jim said plainly, and Morgan was taken aback by his calm, yet blunt nature.

She could work with this, though. She could be blunt too.

"Were you aware of the bruises your wife had at the time of her death?" Morgan asked. "They were far too old to have been done the same day she died."

"I know nothing about that," Jim snapped back. He stood up, his domineering aura seeping into the room like dark water. "And I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Morgan stood, too, unwavering. "Is that because you're guilty, Mr. Alba?"

"We're just asking questions," Derik cut in, attempting to cool the tension, but it was too late for that.

Morgan stared down Jim, unafraid. She didn't trust this guy, not for a second.

"You can speak to me when I have a lawyer," Jim said. "Now, get out of my house."

Morgan nodded, keeping her gaze locked with Jim's as she slowly made her way toward the door. Derik followed behind her, tense and ready for anything. Just as they reached the threshold, Jim called out to them.

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