AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Alright," she murmured to herself, "let's see what you have to say, Betty Garner."
She dialed the number Joe had given her and waited, listening to the monotonous ringing on the other end. Her heart beat a little faster, anticipation and doubt warring within her.
"Hello?" The voice on the other end was soft and warm, like a grandmother's embrace.
"Betty Garner?" Morgan asked, steeling herself for the conversation.
"Yes, dear. Who might this be?"
"Special Agent Morgan Cross, FBI. I'm investigating a series of crimes, and I need to ask you some questions about one of your students, Joe Dancer."
"Joe? Oh, he's such a nice young man," Betty replied, her tone genuine and kind. "I've been teaching him piano for years now. What can I help you with, Agent Cross?"
"Ms. Garner, I need to know if Joe was with you last night during his scheduled piano lesson."
"Indeed, he was," Betty confirmed, her voice filled with certainty. "He comes twice a week, you see, and we were working on a particularly difficult piece last night. Why do you ask? Is something wrong?"
Morgan shifted her weight, digging her heel into the worn carpet beneath her feet. She needed to tread lightly here, to avoid raising any unnecessary alarm. So far, everything Joe had said to Morgan seemed to be true.
"Ms. Garner, I don't want to cause you any undue concern, but we're looking into a matter that involves Joe's whereabouts last night. It's important that we verify his alibi."
"Alibi?" Betty's voice trembled with concern. "Oh, my goodness. I assure you, Agent Cross, Joe was here with me until well into the evening. He's had such a hard life, what with his hands and all... I couldn't imagine him ever getting mixed up in anything dangerous."
Morgan closed her eyes for a moment, taking in Betty's words. She could feel a pang of sympathy tugging at her, but she knew she needed to remain objective.
"Ms. Garner, can you tell me what time Joe left your house last night?" Morgan asked, her voice steady and professional.
"Of course, dear. If I recall correctly, it was around eight in the evening," Betty replied, her voice reflecting a genuine concern for Joe's welfare.
Morgan's brow furrowed as she calculated the timeline in her head. The murders had occurred between nine and eleven p.m., which meant that Joe could have potentially been out in time to commit them. She couldn't ignore this possibility, despite the heartache she sensed in Betty's voice.
"Ms. Garner," she began, her voice steady and authoritative, "has Joe ever exhibited any violent tendencies? Anything at all that would cause you concern?"
Betty's laughter rang out through the phone, jarring in its sincerity. "Violent tendencies? Oh, no, dear, not at all. Joe is as harmless as they come. He's just a misunderstood young man with a rare condition on his hands." A hint of sadness crept into her voice as she continued, "The world can be so cruel to people like him."
Morgan felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for Joe as she listened to Betty's words. She stared at the suspect seated across from her, watching him fidget with the gloves on his rash-covered hands. His alibi was plausible; he had been attending piano lessons with Betty until eight p.m., and he hadn't been anywhere near the crime scene. There was no connection between him and the other murder victims.
Despite her hardened exterior, Morgan found herself wanting to believe in Joe's innocence. The thought of such a gentle soul becoming entangled in a brutal murder investigation was unsettling. But the truth had to be her priority, and she couldn't let her emotions sway her judgment.
"Thank you, Ms. Garner," Morgan said, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Your information has been very helpful."
"Is there anything else I can do for you, dear?" Betty asked, genuine concern evident in her tone.
"Nothing at the moment, but I might be in touch if we need further information. Thank you again for your cooperation," Morgan replied before ending the call.
With a sigh of resignation, Morgan thanked Betty and hung up the phone. She stared at it for a moment, her fingertips still resting on the cool, smooth surface, as if she could somehow bring a connection to the real killer into existence. But Joe Dancer seemed to be nothing more than another dead-end.
Which meant the real killer was still out there, and she was wasting more time.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the precinct's parking lot as Morgan leaned against her car, defeated. The chill of the metal seeped through her jacket, but she barely noticed. Her mind was consumed with frustration over the time she'd wasted with Joe Dancer.
Another dead end. She felt as if she were trying to navigate a labyrinth with no exit, each turn leading to another brick wall. It was maddening.
"Hey, Cross."
Morgan stiffened at the sound of Derik's voice, her heart skipping a beat. She didn't have the energy for another confrontation with him, not now. But there he was, striding up to her with that familiar look of determination etched on his face.
