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“Look harder.” Jake tapped the photo of Trish, then the photo of Mason. “You know them, Dr. Balog.”
Dr. Balog hesitated, then sighed. “Yes,” he said. “I do.” He looked down at the table and said, “They… they came to my anonymous therapy group.”
Jake felt his heart skip a beat—he was right.
But before he could press Dr. Balog further, the man added, “But I don’t know their names. If they died, then I would have known nothing about it. They were not technically clients or patients of mine, they just attended my group.”
“And yet all three of them are dead,” Jake said. “Do you remember what each of their fears were?”
Dr. Balog shook his head, sweat beading on his forehead.
Jake tapped on the senator’s photo. “Bees. He was murdered by a swarm of Asian giant hornets in his home.” Then Trish’s photo. “Spiders. She was bitten by a Sydney funnel web and killed, also in her home.” Then Mason’s. “Drowning. You can see where I’m going with this, Dr. Balog.”
Dr. Balog shifted in his seat and said, “I’m done talking. I want a lawyer.” Jake watched as Dr. Balog’s eyes grew cold and distant, the life in them snuffing out like a flame. He had seen this look before—the look of a guilty man who knows there is no way out of the situation he’s created for himself.
Fiona glanced over at Jake with concern, but he shook his head ever so slightly and motioned for her to stay quiet. He knew that if Dr. Balog wanted a lawyer, then that was it—he would not speak another word until one arrived, no matter how much evidence they had against him or what kind of questions were asked.
And besides, him asking for a lawyer was a good thing.
It meant the guy knew he was in shit.
It meant he had something to hide.
So Jake stood up and said, “Fine then, Dr. Balog. We’ll get your lawyer. It sounds like you’ll be needing one.”
Dr. Balog nodded, his eyes still cold and distant.
Jake and Fiona exited the room, leaving Dr. Balog to think about what he’d done. Jake couldn’t help but feel satisfied.
But once he was alone in the hallway with Fiona, he looked down at her, expecting her to be just as relieved as him. They’d done it—they’d gotten someone who could be tied to all three victims. Hell, he’d even admitted it.
And yet Fiona had a concerned expression on her face, and she nibbled on her lip, her eyebrows tugging together.
“What is it, Red?” Jake asked. “Aren’t you happy we got him?”
“Yes, but…” Fiona trailed off, then met Jake’s stare with conviction. “Jake. I’m not sure he’s the right guy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Fiona held her breath, waiting for Jake’s answer. She knew it was risky of her to make such a judgment when Jake was the agent—and the one in charge—but she couldn’t deny the feeling in her gut.
Something about Balog had seemed off, and not in the way Jake was thinking. It was something in the way Balog had admitted to recognizing the senator, but not the others at first, and the fact that he seemed so nervous, but not quite in the way Fiona would expect. It was only a hunch, of course, and she was very willing to accept she could be wrong—but she wanted to talk to him. Alone.
“Where’s this coming from, Red?” Jake asked. “What makes you think he’s innocent?”
“I don’t know,” Fiona confessed. “It’s a feeling I have. I want to talk to him alone.”
“What?” Jake exclaimed. “Absolutely not, Red. He asked for a lawyer—he’s basically admitting his guilt. What makes you think you can get anything else out of him?”
Fiona sighed and bit her lip, looking away from Jake’s gaze. She wanted to tell him about the strange feeling she had in her gut, but she couldn’t put it into words.
But then something inside of her shifted—her gut feelings had proven to be right before, and all she was asking for was a chance.
“Jake,” Fiona said firmly, “I’m only asking you to give me a chance. I know it sounds crazy and I know that Balog asked for a lawyer, but if we don’t at least try then I feel like we’re going to miss something important. Please. If I can talk to him alone, it might put his guard down.”
Jake looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. “Alright,” he said. “Go in and talk to him, but I’ll be right out here the whole time. He might not be willing to talk to you, so don’t expect too much.”
Fiona nodded and smiled, relieved. She walked back into the interrogation room, feeling a little bit more confident than before. Balog was still sitting at the table, looking tense and anxious.
