“How well did you know the victim, Mr. Parsons?”
I keep my body language open, my tone neutral, my expression mildly inquisitive. I’ve chosen a blue button down and jeans. Blue suggests trustworthiness and honesty. The jeans suggest this is a casual conversation. All the pieces have been thoughtfully constructed to make him think this is a friendly follow-up conversation. He has no idea that I’m laying the trap and letting him hang himself.
Something flits across his face. He covers it quickly, but not quickly enough. “Not well, I’m afraid, Detective.” His tone is sincere but his body language tells a different story. “We only worked together briefly before…”
He trails off, unable or unwilling to say it. I notice he hasn’t mentioned her murder, avoiding the subject completely. The hunch that I’ve been harboring begins to solidify more and more with every moment.
“That’s interesting, Mr. Parsons,” I retrieve a few papers from the file and slide them across the table to him. “Your phone records show you two texting frequently,” I point to the records on one page, “and that series of pictures are from the school security feed. They show you entering her classroom, closing the door, and remaining inside with her for an extended period of time—alone.” I watch him carefully as he examines the papers, looking for any sign he’ll crack. “So, I’ll ask again, Mr. Parsons—what exactly was the nature of your relationship with the victim?”
When his eyes flit back up to meet mine, something in him has shifted. Gone is the mask of professionalism. Black hair has fallen across his forehead, curtaining the swirling depths of his darkening blue irises. He looks deadly, dangerous—atrue Devil.
“Clever, aren’t you?” he asks with a malicious smirk that sends a shiver down my spine.
Right on cue, there is a knock at the door. It swings open before I can utter a word and Officer Tennyson waltzes in as planned. He is wearing his uniform blues, another piece laid out carefully. We want the aura of justice to hang in the air, despite my casual attire. A contrast meant to throw our suspect off. Tennyson drops a paper right next to me on the steel tabletop.
“Here’s that print out you requested, Detective.” His tone is stiff. We will have to work on the rookie’s acting skills.
“Thank you, Officer,” I dismiss him swiftly before he fucks up the interrogation with his shitty acting. He pauses for a moment, clearly not wanting to miss what’s about to happen. Without any acknowledgement from me, he relents and leaves.
The Devil across from me is still smirking, his sharp eyes searing into me. “And what is this new card you’ve brought to play, Detective?” he asks with a smug tone. He’s cocky. Men usually are.
“This?” I ask him, feigning innocence. “Oh, this…” I slide the paper across the table to him. “Is simply a photocopy of a background check.”
“A background check?” He scoffs as his veiny tattooed hand pulls the paper toward him.
“You see,” I continue, “I was curious about the stranger who showed up right after one woman went missing and a second woman was murdered. I wondered to myself if your arrival was a coincidence.”
His eyes scan the paperwork, his mind working through the pieces of the puzzle I’m laying out for him.
“But imagine my surprise when I learned that Gabriel Parsons seems to not only have mysteriously arrived here right at the same time as these crimes, but that your entire identity seems to have mysteriously appeared out of nowhere just a few years ago.”
His gaze flicks back to mine. I expect to see panic, worry, maybe even anger. I don’t expect to see the heated excitement that pains his features. He looks wild, unhinged, manic. For the first time in my career, I’m truly frightened of a suspect. I have no doubts that this man, this demon, would be capable of murder.
“You know that famous quote—‘He who fights monsters should be careful, lest he becomes a monster himself. And if you gaze into the dark abyss long enough, the abyss will gaze back into you,’ Detective Pierce?”
“Nietzsche,” I confirm. I have no idea where he’s going with this train of thought, but I will let him tell me what he’s thinking.
“Be careful how far you descend into the darkness, Detective. We’re all monsters here.”
A chill runs down my spine. My stomach churns with unease as he sits back, crossing his arms over his muscular chest.
“Nietzsche suggested that men should be careful as they hunt monsters, suggesting the inherent monstrosity lurking in the minds of men,” I offer to him as his eyes thin, clearly confused that I would dare to challenge him. “But I’m not a man. Maybe it takes a woman to catch a monster. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr.—well, I’m not exactly sure who you are, but do believe me when I say that I intend to find out.”
I’ve never backed down to a cocky male before and I certainly don’t intend to now.
“I look forward to discussing it with you when you do figure it out.” He stands, buttoning his coat across his core. “With my lawyer present, of course.”
He walks across the room. I don’t stop him. As soon as he closes the door behind him, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in.
This absolutely is not over.
NINETEEN
Allison
Before
Ihaven’t felt this happy in…well, in as long as I can remember. Brody was released after questioning but went to stay with his parents. He didn’t ask me to join him there and I didn’t offer. I went back to my house briefly to grab clothes. My mother-in-law must have sent a cleaning crew because the home was spotless. Spotless and cold and empty—a perfect picture of my life. In contrast, this last week living with Gabriel has been easy, light, happy.
