Jane enters the interrogation room and plops the paperwork on the table. She grabs a stainless steel chair and sits. Casey is seated across from her, cuffed hands resting on the tabletop.
"Can you please take the handcuffs off me?" Casey politely asks.
Jane reaches into her handcuff case, pulling out the key. She hesitates, then carefully grabs the metal around his wrists and unlocks the cuffs. She puts the key away, rests both hands on the table and places her folded hands to her mouth as she gathers her thoughts.
"Where were you Tuesday night?" Jane interrogates.
"I was at home. Alone," Casey replies.
Heart pounding, the detective shuffles through the papers in front of her and pulls out autopsy photos of the victim.
"You see the bruise on the victim's back?" Jane says, sliding a picture across the table towards Casey. "He was paralyzed before he died. Isn't this the same area you were hit with shrapnel?" the detective inquires.
"Yes," he answers.
"And this," Jane says as she pushes a picture of the victim's feet in front of him. "This is what killed him—an air bubble injected through a needle. Didn't you suffer from minor embolisms when you were in surgery in Afghanistan?"
Casey tightens his jaw. "…Yeah."
"Why did you kill Steven Parris?" questions Jane.
"I didn't kill him," Casey says.
"Then why was your DNA at his apartment?" Decided to pay him a visit when you found out he was back in Boston?" Jane says, slightly raising her voice.
"No," he responds irritably. "I didn't even know he was back until a friend told me."
"Friend's name?" she asks.
"Greg Wasek. He was part of the reconnaissance team."
"How did he know Parris was in town?"
"I don't know. I saw him speaking to Parris at the clinic on Tuesday, but he told me about Parris' return on Monday night," Casey explains.
"Do you know why Parris was at the clinic?" Jane asks, curiously.
"No, I didn't get a chance to speak with him."
"Why was Wasek at the clinic?"
"Greg lost his leg in the explosion. Since he came back from Afghanistan he's been coming to the clinic to deal with his condition, but it hasn't been going well. I've been spending a lot of time with him to help him adjust. He told me about Parris when we were at his place watching the Sox game," Casey says, softly smiling at Jane.
Jane bears a slight grin and gathers her papers. She pushes her chair from the table and stands. "Do you have anything else you'd like to share?"
Casey remains silent, locking eyes with Jane. She looks at him for a moment then walks towards the door.
"I hope you believe me, Jane," Casey says as the detective reaches for the door's handle.
Jane pauses then leaves the interrogation room without looking back.