The bullpen of the Major Crimes Division was buzzing with chaotic energy until Leland Parris slammed a thick manila folder onto Justice's desk.
The noise in the room died instantly.
Leland pulled out a stack of glossy photographs and spread them across the wood.
They were extreme close-ups of Kylee Mcdonald at Dana's apartment. Her face was a mask of absolute, chilling indifference. Next to the photos was a printout of the server logs showing Mickey's terminal accessing the financial database under Kylee's direct psychological pressure.
"Every single person with a motive is dead," Leland announced, his voice carrying across the silent room. "Except one. The only person left alive with the anatomical knowledge to stage these scenes, and the anti-surveillance training to get away with it, is your medical examiner."
Justice shot out of his chair. He grabbed Leland by the lapels of his cheap suit and shoved him hard against the filing cabinet.
"You are out of your mind," Justice snarled, his face inches from Leland's. "She is the victim's best friend."
Leland sneered, completely unfazed. "Look at her face, Justice! Her best friend is dead on a couch, and she didn't shed a single tear. She wanted to cut her open right there. That is textbook sociopathic behavior. I've already requested an arrest warrant from the Chief."
Justice raised his fist, fully prepared to shatter Leland's jaw.
The heavy glass doors of the precinct swung open.
The sharp, rhythmic click of high heels echoed across the linoleum floor.
Kylee Mcdonald walked in. She was wearing a sharply tailored black trench coat. Her posture was rigidly straight, her face an unreadable mask of porcelain.
She walked directly past the staring detectives, straight up to Leland.
She held out her hands, pressing her wrists together.
"You don't need a warrant," Kylee said, her voice dropping the temperature in the room by ten degrees. "I am here voluntarily."
Leland's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered. He reached for the steel handcuffs on his belt.
Justice slammed his hand down on Leland's wrist, pinning it to the holster. "She said voluntary. No cuffs."
Kylee met Justice's eyes. She gave a microscopic shake of her head, telling him to back down. She lowered her hands and walked straight into Interrogation Room 1.
The fluorescent lights in the small room were blindingly white.
Kylee sat in the metal chair. Her back didn't touch the rest. She looked like a statue carved from ice.
Leland sat across from her. Justice stood in the corner, his arms crossed, his jaw tight.
Leland hit the record button on the camera. He started hammering her with questions, demanding her minute-by-minute timeline for the last forty-eight hours.
Kylee answered every question with terrifying precision. No hesitation. No stuttering.
Frustrated, Leland threw the crime scene photo of Dana's purple, swollen face onto the metal table.
"Look at her!" Leland yelled. "You did this! You killed them all to avenge her, didn't you?"
Kylee looked down at the photo. Her pupils contracted slightly. But her facial muscles remained completely paralyzed. The heart rate monitor strapped to her wrist for the polygraph showed a perfectly flat, rhythmic line.
Leland stared at the monitor in horror. "You really are a monster."
Kylee slowly raised her eyes. She looked at Leland with a gaze so intensely analytical it made him shift uncomfortably in his chair.
"Your profiling is pathetic, Detective," Kylee said softly. "If I were the killer, I would never have left those Italian shoes in the closet. It's too obvious. It's sloppy."
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
"You are looking at this entirely wrong. This wasn't a serial killer. This was a borrowed knife."
Justice's head snapped up. He knew that look. Her brain was connecting the invisible dots.
"I need Dana and Damion's medical records for the last three years," Kylee demanded. "And their complete text message history."
Leland slammed his hand on the table. "I am not fetching documents for a murder suspect!"
Justice ignored him. He picked up the wall phone and dialed the tech lab. "Alex, get me the Hatfield and Garner medical and data pulls. Now."
Kylee leaned back in her chair. She crossed her legs and looked at Leland with absolute authority.
"Sit back and listen, Detective," Kylee said. "I am going to solve your closed loop in exactly thirty minutes."
