"Me? Afraid?" He scoffed, the sound sharp as shattered glass. "You're the interloper here, Thomas. Poking around where you don't belong."
"Because there's something wrong with this case," I persisted, my voice steady as a heartbeat despite the pounding in my chest. "There was a reason Carol lied, wasn’t there?"
Larson's face contorted, a mask of fury replacing any pretense of professionalism. "Are you accusing me of something?" he spat, his words laced with poison.
"Are you telling me I shouldn't be?" I countered, keeping my tone level though my insides roiled with tension.
That was the spark that lit his fuse. In a flash, he was upon me, his hand snaking out, fingers like steel as they clamped around my collar. He shoved me, my back slamming against the wall with a thud that rattled my bones. His breath scorched my face, each word a serrated edge cutting through the air.
"Listen, you meddling little?—"
"Detective," I gasped, struggling to maintain clarity as fear clawed its way up my throat. "This isn't the way."
"Shut it!" The pressure on my collar tightened, his grip unforgiving. "You've been a thorn in my side since you arrived, and I'm done playing nice."
"Assaulting an FBI agent," I managed to choke out, "isn't playing at all."
"Who's going to believe you?" His snarl was right in my ear, his threat unmistakable. "I'll make sure you never interfere again."
I felt the cold press of the wall through my shirt, the hard reality of my situation setting in. This man was desperate, dangerous—a cornered animal with nothing to lose. His eyes, mere slits of unbridled rage, told me everything I needed to know. If I didn't actor find some way out, my story would end here, in this nondescript room, far from those I loved.
"Think about what you're doing," I tried, my voice barely more than a whisper, but every syllable was a defiance, a refusal to succumb to the darkness encroaching on the edges of myvision. "Is it worth it, Larson? Is it really worth your badge, your honor?"
"Shut up!" The violence in his shout shook me to the core. I stared into the abyss of his fury, knowing I was dangling over the precipice by nothing more than his wavering self-control.
"Your call," I breathed, the words slipping out like a prayer, hoping against hope that somewhere within this broken man, a shred of decency remained.
The air hitched in my throat, the world narrowing to the brute force of his grip on my collar. Instincts honed through years in the field surged… a split-second glance at his exposed torso.
Now.
"Ugh!" My foot shot out, connecting with his abdomen. He grunted, the shock loosening his hands for that critical heartbeat.
"Damn you, Eva Rae!" he cursed, recoiling.
I twisted free, stumbling back. Adrenaline surged. Focus. I dove for my phone, skidding across the laminate floor.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"Detective Larson… he's here," I panted, "He attacked me. I need police."
"Stay on the line, ma'am. Officers are on their way."
"Fast, please," I managed, eyeing him, wary of another charge. It came seconds later. But not the way I had thought it would. I pressed record on my phone.
Larson’s shadow stretched across the floor like a stain. He bolted for the door, but I was quicker, my body propelled by a cocktail of fear and fury. I intercepted him, blocking the doorway with an outstretched arm.
"Move," he hissed, eyes darting.
"Not a chance," I replied, voice steady despite the drumming of my heart.
Outside, sirens wailed their approach, the sound growing louder, more insistent. Panic flickered across Larson's face, his facade crumbling.
"Damn you, Eva Rae," he spat. "You don't understand. I had to stop her—Carol. She was going to ruin everything."
"By telling the truth?" I edged closer, cornering him. “By admitting she had lied? A lie you told her to tell?”
"Truth?" A bitter laugh escaped him. "She loved Will. Obsessed. When he rejected her after his wife died, she wanted revenge. It was perfect until you showed up. Carol got scaredandsaid she'd confess to the lie. I couldn't allow that."
