The door slammed behind her with a metallic finality that made Webb flinch visibly through the small reinforced window.
Kate drew a slow breath, let it settle the way a stone sinks through water.
Marcus’s voice drifted faintly from somewhere down the corridor — talking to someone, giving instructions.Grounding.Steady.
She walked toward the hub, her heels clicking sharp and controlled on the linoleum.
Behind her, Webb was alone with his thoughts.
Which was exactly where she needed him.
*
Kate was halfway through her checks on Webb when she heard the quick, unmistakable rhythm of Marcus's footsteps coming down the hall.Not the casual kind.The purposeful kind.I’ve found somethingkind.
She glanced up as he entered the room.
He had a sheet of printer paper in one hand, pinched between two fingers as though it were radioactive.
“You look like you just swallowed a lemon,” she said.
Marcus held the page out.“I’m about to give you one.”
She took it, scanning the header, then the dense paragraphs beneath.
“Before you read too far,” he said, leaning one hip against the desk, “I want to hear your take.On Webb.”
Kate set the paper aside.“Fine.My take?He didn’t do it.”
Marcus nodded.“Mine too.Why?”
“ He’s a mess,” Kate said.“He panics, he lies badly, he jumps at shadows, he’s got trauma coming out of his ears, and his life choices are a flaming dumpster—but that’sallhe is.A mess.Not a murderer.”
“You’re sure?”
“As sure as I can be without a time machine.”She rubbed the back of her neck.“He’s hiding stuff, sure.But notthis.And honestly?The whole interview was a waste of time.”
Marcus’s eyebrows lifted a fraction.“That’s the part I don’t agree with.”
She frowned.“What do you mean?”
“WhenIinterviewed him,” Marcus said, “He said something interesting.Weird.Threw it out like it was obvious.”He straightened, looking suddenly very awake.“‘Why aren’t you questioning that whackjob Holloway?’”
Kate blinked.“Holloway?”
“Yep.”Marcus tapped the paper she’d set down.“I didn’t push him on it at the time—we were busy trying to nail down his timeline—but I made a note.Just looked Holloway up on the database.”
Kate slid the page back toward her and read more carefully.
“Huh.”
It was an extensive list of complaints.Harassment.Stalking behaviours.Threatening communications.Several local PDs had interacted with him across the past decade.
And all of it orbiting one theme: elder welfare.
“Who is he?”she asked, finally looking up.
Marcus crossed the room and opened his laptop.“Meet James Holloway.Social worker.Founder of an elder advocacy group called ‘Dignity Always.’They run community workshops, pressure lawmakers, file complaints about neglect.He’s filed formal grievances against at least nine Boston-area families for mistreating elderly parents.But he’s gone beyond that, seemingly.Hence, all the interactions with the P.D.”
