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“I highly doubt anything we do at this point could be construed as ‘overkill,’ Nora. If you think you’re doing your client any favors right now, you might want to re-think that, too.”

“You’ve got nothing on him,” the pink-suited lawyer hissed.

“Maybe not. Not yet. But you’re forgetting the other reason we brought him in here. Regardless of what we have on surveillance, there’s the matter of the name…”

The chief paused, letting his words trail.

He glanced at Nick, as if suddenly remembering he was there.

When the silence stretched, Nick frowned, looking between Acharya and Morley, then at the lawyer, then around at the other cops. He didn’t get it. They already said the family was rich. Nick got it. They were rich. They were important somehow.

But he was missing something still. He could feel it.

The handsome, forty-something police chief, who was supposedly called “Jag” by his friends, although Nick had never heard of anyone actually calling him that, not even in a story on the feeds, looked past Nick’s stare to Morley.

When he spoke next, his voice came out subdued.

“Has he been told?” Acharya asked.

Morley shook his head. “No. I was about to, sir, when Ms. King walked in.”

The lawyer gave Morley a look, one dark eyebrow quirked.

She seemed surprised Morley knew who she was.

Nick wasn’t… surprised, that is.

Morley always knew a hell of a lot more than he let on.

For the same reason, Nick didn’t look at Acharya to explain to him what the hell they were talking about.

He looked to his friend, James Morley.

Those dark brown eyes met his.

He coughed, covering his mouth with one hand.

Nick got the impression James was stalling.

The old man cleared his throat again. But then he began to speak.

“Like I’d started to tell you before, this might be difficult for you to hear, Detective.”

Morley hesitated. He glanced around the green, metal interrogation room. He looked uncomfortable, like telling Nick now, in front of all these people, didn’t feel right to him. He also seemed to realize he didn’t have much choice.

He cleared his throat, going on in a gruffer voice.

“Like you astutely noted… letting the babysitter go, and only killing humans from one family strongly indicates the victims weren’t random. That the family wasn’t random, but chosen. Chosen likely because the killer knew them in some way. Because there’s some personal relationship––”

“Which there isn’t, with my client,” the pink-suited lawyer muttered. “None whatsoever. We’ve pulled every record imaginable to prove that.”

Acharya gave her a warning look.

The lawyer fell silent.

Morley cleared his throat.

He looked back at Nick.