Page 46 of In Her Wake
Jake leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him."For what it's worth, I hope Morgan's right.If Morrison is our guy, this ends today.We can all go home knowing no one else is going to turn up, replaced by a mannequin with their face."
“That’s the thing, isn’t it?”Jenna stared into her coffee cup.“If we’re wrong—if we focus all our attention on Morrison while the real killer is still out there—someone else is going to die.”
“Or so it seems likely,” Jake said.“Don’t forget, we don’t know that Kevin Torres is dead.Maybe he’s only been abducted.”
Another voice spoke, “Sheriff Graves.”
Jenna looked up to find Chief Morgan approaching, his face set in grim satisfaction.He’d removed his uniform jacket in the warm station, his badge gleaming against his shirt pocket.
“We’re ready for you,” he said.“Morrison’s lawyer is with him now.Public defender, fresh out of law school by the looks of him.But I should warn you—Morrison’s not exactly in a cooperative mood.”
"Is he coherent?"Jake asked as he and Jenna rose to their feet.
“More or less.We have him in holding.He’s coming down, but not happy about it.”Morgan’s expression hardened.“Spelling’s already in there.Let’s not keep them waiting.”
They followed Morgan through the bullpen, down a corridor lined with motivational posters that seemed almost comical in their forced optimism.The interview room was at the end of the hall—a windowless box with cinderblock walls painted the same institutional green as the rest of the station.
Inside, Colonel Spelling stood in the corner, his tall figure making the small room seem even more confined.Morrison sat at the metal table, handcuffed to a metal loop embedded in its surface.His attorney, a young man with nervous eyes and a suit that hung slightly too large on his thin frame, sat beside him, a yellow legal pad positioned squarely in front of him.
Morrison looked marginally better than he had at his house—someone had given him a clean shirt, and his face showed signs of having been washed—but the haunted look in his bloodshot eyes remained.
“Dr.Morrison,” Spelling began as Jenna and Jake took seats across from the suspect.“Thank you for agreeing to speak with us.”
“Like I had a choice,” Morrison muttered.
“My client is here voluntarily,” the attorney interjected, his voice cracking slightly.“But I want to make it clear that he’s only being charged with possession at this point.Any questions about other matters are purely informational.”
“Of course,” Spelling replied smoothly.“Dr.Morrison, we’re investigating the disappearances of Marjory Powell and Kevin Torres.They were replaced with mannequins bearing remarkably lifelike replicas of their faces.Given your expertise in facial reconstruction …”
Morrison’s face registered genuine surprise.“Mannequins?What are you talking about?”
“Yesterday, between approximately one and three p.m.,” Spelling continued, ignoring the question, “where were you?”
Morrison frowned, his brow furrowing in concentration.“Yesterday afternoon?I was...I think I was at home.”
“You think?”Jake pressed.“You don’t know for certain?”
Morrison’s attorney leaned forward.“My client has been under significant stress, and his medication regimen has been disrupted.”
“I was probably at home,” Morrison said, his voice less certain now.“The days blur together.”
“Can anyone verify your presence at home during that time?”Spelling asked.
"I don't think so.I live alone."
“What about last night, between nine and eleven p.m.?”Jake asked.
Morrison’s eyes darted to his attorney, then back to Jake.“I was...out, I think.Maybe.I might have gone to get something to eat.”
“Where?”Jenna asked.“Which restaurant?”
“I don’t remember exactly.”Morrison rubbed at his face with his free hand.“Maybe the burger place on Center Street?Or was that the night before?”
“My client clearly cannot provide reliable information about his exact whereabouts,” the attorney cut in.“And I fail to see how this connects him to the cases you’re investigating.”
“The connection,” Morgan said, stepping forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall, “is that your client has the exact skill set needed to create the mannequins we found.Facial reconstruction.Materials knowledge.Artistic ability.”
“Other people have those skills,” the attorney countered.
