Autopsy of a Mind

I read him his rights and surreptitiously glanced towards Collins. The stare-off ended soon enough and I turned back to McCain.

"Do you know why you have been called here?" I asked as I looked through the papers in front of me. There was nothing much written on it, but I had to act like we had a lot of incriminating information against him.

"I heard my wife was dead, so I assume that by relation, I am the first person that will be questioned if she died." 

Wife, not ex-wife. How fascinating. I didn't correct him. I'd let him ramble on in this fantasy of his until I got concrete proof that he had been lying about whereabouts. Catch him in his lies. 

"You're correct. You had access to the house, therefore, we need to follow procedure and interview you." I paused and looked at him intently. "You're free to consult your lawyer if you are uncomfortable or don't want to answer a question. Do you understand?" I pressed. 

"I do. Let's just get it over with." He acted like this was all a bother for him. 

I nodded enthusiastically. "What were you doing the day of the murder?" I asked smoothly, not letting my knowledge of his involvement show. He must have known his son was being protected by the police, so he would be scared the son said something. 

But I had to pretend like nothing was said and even if it was, we didn't put much emphasis on the words of a child.

"I was at home composing music for my upcoming album," he smiled widely, not a hint of guilt in his eyes. 

"You composed music all day?" I repeated. "You didn't go out of the house to buy anything or met with anyone who can confirm where you were?" I asked. 

He shook his head. "I was in my music room all day long. Creative people get obsessed when they are inspired."

I nodded but looked confused. "I'm sorry, you're a very talented man. I can't say that I understand your thought processes. I'm not in the same league as you," I joked with a smile. 

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Collins squint at me.

"Oh, Detective. You must be one of the best around here if they let you interview me. I don't doubt your intelligence," he praised in return. 

"Thank you for your praise." I paused and cleared my throat. "Back to the questions. Do you know of anyone who has access to Maya's house apart from her family and you?" I asked. 

He pretended to think about it for a minute. "I think she was talking to a guy in the past month or so. She told me something of that sort the last time we met. He probably has access to the house, as well," he said promptly. He nodded sagely to reaffirm his words.

"Do you know his name or what he does that can help us narrow down his identity?" I leaned forward to take a closer look at him.

His eyes flashed coldly for a second before he shook his head. "He is younger, I know that. But she never told me his name," he murmured. "Can't you people track her phone or something? His contact information should be there in her call log," he diverted the conversation. 

"I'm sure someone will get their hand on it. Thank you for the idea, though." I didn't show it on my face but I knew instantly that he had not called her in a long time. There was something else, but I couldn't figure it out right at that moment. Something to do with his cellphone.

"Can you tell me a bit about your relationship with Maya and why you broke up?" I asked finally. 

He gritted his teeth and I saw Collins move forward to stop him. "You don't need to answer that question," he said promptly, making McCain stop. He looked towards the lawyer and shook his head. 

"I will cooperate with the detective on this. Our relationship was strained and we fought whenever we saw each other, but I still love her a lot," he admitted.

"I understand," I retorted promptly. "I can see that your lapsed relationship with your wife put great emotional strain on you, so I won't continue with that line of questioning." I sometimes wondered how I could act so understanding when facing prime suspects. "When was the last time you met her?" I asked. 

He thought about it for a second. "It has been a week or two," he said softly. I wrote that down quickly. 

"Can you give me a definite date? That would really help us narrow down the number of people who frequented her house in the meantime. Everyone from people who worked in the house to her acquaintances will be questioned, so any help you can offer would be appreciated."

McCain blinked, overwhelmed.

"A particular date?" he whispered. I nodded in encouragement. 

"Anything you remember is fine." I saw Collins move defensively. "Only if your lawyer allows it, of course." I smirked.

McCain glanced between Collins and I and suddenly realized something.

"I really don't remember," he said finally. 

"It's okay." My phone pinged and I looked at the screen quickly. 

It was from Nash. [Found footage. Need to go over it to confirm identity.]

I turned the phone off.

"Please let us know if you remember something," I told him quickly. "I think that will be all for now," I said. "We'll call you if we have more questions."

He nodded. 

"You may leave now."

I stood up and guided them out. As they left, I heard McCain hiss angrily towards his lawyer. The conversation went on as they disappeared. Not one word was said about his son who was found at the crime scene beside his dying mother.

How typical.

An officer who was standing towards the end of the room came towards me with a gossipy look.

"Miss Lewis, did you go hard on the suspect because of Collins?" the younger man asked as he cradled his cup of coffee.

"No, I was really nice. Why?" I asked curiously. 

"Mr. McCain kept mentioning that Collins' presence was making him look guilty." The boy laughed.

"Thanks for telling me," I patted the boy's shoulder. I saw someone approaching me from the corner of my eyes and stilled.

I saw his hand touch mine before he took it into his. "Let's not touch others so easily," Sebastian said blandly. I snickered as I turned to look at him. 

"Dr. Butler!" the boy shouted, starry-eyed. "I heard about the recent cold-cases you handled," he said. 

"Right. If my assistant wasn't busy furthering her career, I would have asked you to talk to her for details." He shot me a glance.

"Oh, Miss Lewis, you were Dr. Butler's assistant! I just remembered. You're so good at your job that it's a shame you worked for him."

I broke into giggles. "I only got into this industry because he practically coerced me into it. You need to thank him for my services," I taunted. 

"Services…" Sebastian trailed off. "I see little of you at home, Evie. Let's talk before I die from silence." He grumbled. "I'll take her with me now," he claimed as he spoke to the starry-eyed boy. 

The other was wide-eyed and wordless at this development.

"You two…" he trailed off. 

"Exactly. So, don't be so tactless and stop us, okay?" Who would have thought Sebastian to be so assertive in romance? It was amusing, to say the least.

"Yes!" the boy exclaimed and scurried away.

I clucked my tongue. "Look at what you did," I teased. "Scared him away." I snickered. 

"For all the good that therapy did you, I never thought I would be bothered by you touching others so freely," he said. I laced my finger through his and we walked down the hallway towards the office I now shared with Nash. Perks of being on the ace team, I guessed. 

I saw the looks and didn't say much. 

"I would have thought the whole station knew by now because of Nash, but they still remain clueless," Sebastian said as we stopped in front of the coffee maker. He grabbed a cup for me and passed it along.

"Nash isn't a gossip like you believe," I told him calmly as I cupped the mug and took a sip from it. I hissed as the too hot liquid hit my tongue. "It's too hot," I complained. 

"Yes, the sleepless nights and mediocre quality of coffee is hurting your intelligence," he stated plainly. "I was depending on Nash to tell everyone he saw that we were involved with one another."

I rolled my eyes. "Like he would do that without me confirming anything." I shrugged. 

"Yes, the lack of confirmation. It hurts me still." He shook his head, acting offended.

"You've basically told the world that we're an item. I don't have enough time to contradict you. So, you're safe." I patted his back. "Also, I was thanking the boy for giving me crucial information," I clued him in. 

"What information did he give you?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Collins came in with McCain and well…"

"Ah, McCain. Singer and suspected of murder. Did you treat him poorly?" he asked. 

I shook my head. "Why would I do that? I need to keep up my rapport with him until I get a confession out of him. We don't have enough evidence to lock him away."