Behind the glass, Scout murmured, “Lauren.”
Tucker didn’t break eye contact. “Lauren wrote that you watched her. Not flirted. Watched. Why?”
“I supervised her.”
“She wrote it felt like being studied.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“She’s dead.”
Silence.
“Where is Special Agent Tessa Quinn?”
“I don’t know.”
“Those items match that room.”
“I didn’t build that room.”
“Then who built it?”
A beat.
“Sinclair.”
“You’re looking at the wrong man.”
Behind the glass, Burke’s eyes cut to Scout.
“Why?”
“He collects people. Stories. Attention.”
“He had access to Lauren?”
“Yes.”
“Sara Parker?”
“Yes.”
“Tessa Quinn?”
A nod. “He prefers women with something to lose.”
“The typewriter. Where is it?”
“In my study.”
“We’ll have a warrant before sunset.”
Tucker shut off the recorder.
“Don’t leave town.”
Raines didn’t blink.
