"You have authorization to conduct a legal interrogation," Maria said from the doorway, her voice carefully neutral. "ButDetective Blackhorse is right that we need to be careful about the optics. Hatathli's attorney has already filed complaints about the conditions of his detention."
"Because his attorney is playing the system, trying to get his client off on technicalities." Caruso grabbed a folder from the table. "This man threatened the victims publicly. His DNA was at the crime scenes. He had motive, means, and opportunity. The only thing he hasn't done is tell us who helped him, and I guarantee if I had another hour with him—"
"Another hour and you might coerce a false confession that destroys our case," Kari said flatly. "Innocent people confess under pressure all the time, especially when they're exhausted and scared and being told that cooperation is their only chance."
"So now you're saying he's innocent?" Caruso's tone was mocking. "Based on what, your cultural intuition? Your special insight into the Native American mind?"
Kari's jaw tightened, but she kept her voice level. "Based on the fact that a third murder occurred while he was in custody here. Based on the fact that the DNA evidence at the first two crime scenes is suspiciously minimal and perfectly placed. Based on the fact that this entire case feels like someone's setting him up."
"Or based on the fact that you don't want to believe one of your people could be capable of murder," Caruso shot back. "I've seen it before—cultural consultants who come in and make excuses, who try to explain away violence because of tradition or oppression or whatever the narrative is this week."
Maria's voice cut through the tension. "That's enough. Caruso, take a break. Get some coffee, cool down."
"I don't need—"
"That wasn't a suggestion." Maria's tone made it clear she was pulling rank. "We'll resume the interview later, with proper procedures."
Caruso glared at Kari for a long moment, then grabbed his folder and pushed past her toward the door. "This is why cases fall apart. Too many people protecting suspects instead of getting justice for victims."
He left, his footsteps heavy in the hallway.
Kari turned to Hatathli, who looked like he was barely holding himself together. "Are you okay? Did he threaten you? Make any promises or threats?"
"No. Nothing I could point to specifically." Hatathli's voice was shaky. "He just kept saying I was going to prison for the rest of my life unless I told him about the others. Kept asking who was helping me, who planned it with me, who carried out the murders while I was in custody. He said if I gave him names, maybe the prosecutor would reduce the charges."
"That's not something he can promise," Kari said. "And anything you told him without an attorney present could be used against you, even if it's taken out of context or misinterpreted."
"I didn't tell him anything. I don't know anything." Hatathli's hands were shaking. "I didn't kill those people. I didn't plan murders with anyone. I protested the resort development, yes. I said things I regret now, things that sounded like threats. But I'm not a murderer."
Kari believed him. She'd interviewed enough guilty people to recognize the difference between denial and confusion. Hatathli wasn't trying to construct an alibi or deflect blame—he was simply bewildered by how his life had spiraled from legal protest to murder charges in less than a week.
"Talk to your attorney," Kari said. "Let him know what just happened. And don't talk to anyone from Phoenix PD without counsel present, no matter what they say about cooperation or looking guilty."
Kari looked at Maria. "Can we give him a few minutes? Let him make some calls?"
Maria hesitated, clearly weighing departmental politics against what was right. "Five minutes. But Kari, we need to talk. Outside."
They left Hatathli in the interrogation room and walked down the hallway toward an empty conference room. Maria closed the door behind them and turned to Kari with an expression that was part frustration, part sympathy.
"I get what you were doing in there. I agree, Caruso was pushing too hard. But you need to understand the position this puts me in." Maria kept her voice low. "The department is under enormous pressure. Three wealthy victims are dead, Paradise Valley residents are terrified, and the media coverage makes us look incompetent. The chief needs this case closed, which means he needs Hatathli to be guilty. Anything that complicates that narrative—like a consultant suggesting he's innocent—makes my life very difficult."
"I'm not here to make your life easy. I'm here to help find the actual killer." Kari understood Maria's position but couldn't back down. "Caruso was setting up a coerced confession. You know how that ends—months from now, a judge throws it out, the defense claims police misconduct, and your case falls apart. Better to do it right from the start, while the evidence is fresh."
"Caruso has authorization to question suspects. His lieutenant approved it, which means the chief approved it. He wasn't breaking any rules, technically."
Kari thought about Hatathli's exhausted face, the way his hands had been shaking. "Even innocent people can break under enough pressure, especially when they're sleep-deprived and isolated."
"I know." Maria ran a hand through her hair. "I know, and I hate it. But the machine is in motion now, and stopping it would require proof that someone else committed these murders. Real proof, not just suspicion or theory."
"Then let's find that proof." Kari checked her watch—seven-fifteen. Less than two hours until the press conference. "The phone trace should be done by now. Let's locate our mystery witness and see what she knows about Sheridan's murder. Maybe she saw something that can point us toward the real killer."
Maria nodded slowly. "Okay. But Kari, stay away from Caruso. He's got connections in the department, and he's the type to hold grudges. You embarrassed him in there, and that's going to come back on both of us."
"I can handle Caruso." Kari opened the conference room door. "What I can't handle is watching an innocent man get railroaded because it's politically convenient."
They walked back toward Maria's desk, passing the interrogation room where Hatathli sat alone, probably trying to process how his life had been upended so completely.
The bullpen was more crowded now, the day shift arriving, detectives gathering around coffee makers and comparing notes on overnight developments. Kari saw Caruso near the break room, talking to two other detectives and gesturing animatedly. When he noticed her looking, his expression hardened.
