"Miss Mills?"

"Yes?" Regina asked, as she turned towards the strange man standing in the center of her friend's living room.

"Special Agent Jones with the FBI. I'd like to ask you to accompany me back to the office, if you would?" Killian flashed her his badge for inspection before pocketing it once more. He fixed a look on his face that told the other woman his question was more of an order than a request.

"And what's this about?" Regina Mills asked. "Has my client been charged with a federal offense?"

"No, Miss Swan has done nothing wrong. We just have a few questions we'd like to ask you about an ongoing investigation." He offered her the sweetest smile he could manage, as he made a move to head for the front door.

"I can find my own way to your office, Agent Jones. There are some documents here that I need to collect before locking up. As I'm sure you can imagine, in this industry, wasted time can be costly."

"That's fine," he assured her. "Just make sure you arrive no later than an hour after I leave this house. I have a series of homicides to investigate, so while I appreciate your deadlines, I'd ask you to respect my own."

Killian left the house before Regina could say anything else. He'd seen plenty of her type before, during his time with the FBI. She was the kind of woman that could come across as sweet and innocent when she needed to be, but was really only interested in one thing in life.

Protecting her cash flow.

When Regina arrived at the office, Killian felt absolutely no remorse for having one of the other agents escort her down to the interrogation room and leave her there, while he spoke with the team in the labs.

"Whatcha got for me?" he asked, as he pushed his way into the large room.

"Not much, I'm afraid," Victor sighed, standing up to make his way over to where the agent was standing. "The fingers are all positive matches for your victims, but I think we were all expecting that."

A number of heads inside the room bobbed in agreement, before Victor added, "We've dusted the boxes for prints. The same two sets appear on each one. One matched the sample that Emma Swan provided us with, and the other is currently unknown. But given Miss Swan's statement, I assume that they will match with the lawyer."

"Nothing else?" Killian asked. He knew that he was grasping at straws. The killer had left the scene forensically immaculate, so it was unlikely that he'd have been careless when it came down to the packages he'd sent to Emma.

But Killian needed some kind of hope, because as things currently stood, the FBI was nowhere near landing on a suspect for their newest serial killer.

"As you predicted, the notes were written on the same kind of paper, with the same ink, in the same hand as those found inside of your victims' mouths. But as you know, both the pens and the paper are sold in virtually every store all over the country, so we can't trace those back to anyone. Sorry, Jones."

"Don't be," Killian sighed. "Keep up the good work, Vic."

"You too, Jones," he told the agent, handing over his reports before he turned to make his way back to whatever it was that he'd been working on, before Killian had interrupted him.

"Finally. Do you have any idea how long I've been sitting here, Agent Jones? I should bill you for my time," Regina snapped, as she folded her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry that my murder investigation is interrupting your day," he threw back at her, before calmly taking his seat on the opposite side of the table. Killian carefully arranged the files he had in front of him before reaching over to start the audio recording of the interview.

"Okay, Miss Mills. I am obligated to inform you that you are not being charged with anything. You've been asked to give this interview today just to help aid our investigation. If at any time you wish to stop, we can do so. But I must warn you that should you refuse to cooperate with us, and our investigation finds any evidence of illegal activity on your part, I will be forced to have you charged so we can begin this interview all over again, on the record. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she sighed, offering the agent one of her best fake smiles.

"Do you recognize this package, Miss Mills?" he asked. Killian pulled out one of the evidence images of the most recent parcel Emma Swan had received, before he slid it across the table for her to see.

"Should I?" she countered.

"Let me rephrase that for you. If I asked a judge for a warrant for your finger prints right now, and compared them to the second set found on this box," he began, tapping his finger on the image. "Would they match?"

"That's what this is all about?" she scoffed. "Some elaborate prank? Doesn't the FBI have better things to do with their time?"

"You call a severed finger in a box an elaborate prank? We've already run the tests, Miss Mills. We know they were real. And I think you know that too. So what I'm wondering is why you'd advise your client to destroy evidence in a potential criminal case, when you know the Bar will have your license for doing so."

"You have no way to prove that I knew that," Regina reminded him. "All I did was advise my client on how best to deal with what I believed to be an elaborate prank. Miss Swan is a multi-million dollar recording artist. She's been on the receiving end of pranks before, Agent Jones. I didn't want to see her damage that impeccable reputation she has, or the future of her career, at the expense of someone who believes themselves to be a joker."

"And that would have nothing to do with how much she pays you, right?" he asked. Because the lawyer's answers absolutely reeked of her own greed, even if she was covering it well.

"There's nothing wrong with protecting my own interests in my client, is there?"

"There is when it involves the destruction of evidence in a criminal case," he reminded her.

"As I said before, Agent Jones, I was unaware that it was an actual severed finger inside of that box. I certainly never touched the thing. Now… is that all you need from me today? Because as I informed you earlier, I'm incredibly busy and my time is very valuable."

"We'll need your finger prints before you go, just to confirm that they match the ones found on the box," he told her.

"And I assume one of your lackeys will do that for you." Regina stood from her chair with another of her fake smiles, as she shot a condescending look down to the FBI agent. "Oh, and the next time you wish to question my client, call me first," she told him, before tossing her card down onto the table and storming out of the room, in a whirlwind of expensive pant suit and flowery perfume.

David found his partner still sitting in the interrogation room fourteen minutes later, reviewing the recording from the interview with Regina Mills.

"How'd it go?" he asked, cringing a little as he did.

"I don't like that woman."

"You think she's behind all of this?" David wondered.

"No. I just think she's a greedy, self-serving, terrible excuse for a human being, who isn't at all interested in protecting her clients, but instead, in protecting her bank balance."

"Doesn't that description fit most of the lawyers in this town?" David chuckled.

Killian laughed along with him as he gathered up his files and stood to head back to his office.

"This is why I keep you around, Dave."

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