He had let her take a seat in the corner of the inner office, close to the wall, hoping it would help offset some of the nervousness and tension that seemed to flow through every sinew of Betsy Morris's body.

Even though she had denied their initial offer for coffee, he had eventually managed to talk her into a small cup, which she held onto with a death grip a few minutes into their conversation.

"I want you to know that I love my brother.", she began, her lower lip trembling as she fought through the words, "And I do feel that given the opportunity, he will do the best he can to help others. But there's just…there have been some things that have happened over the past few years that don't go along with the image I have of him. And it all comes back to Daniel and my marriage."

Mike nodded quietly, not daring to interfere with Betsy's monologue. Instead, he sat on the window sill by his file cabinet, Steve perpendicular to his position and closer to the door, ready in case something else came up that required their attention.

"I explained it to you yesterday, but I will say it again for the Inspector here; Daniel has a vicious streak. I wish I would have known before I married him but I had no idea. It only came out when he became very stressed, or when he drank too much. He isn't just your usual wife-beater, he would literally go out of his way to make you feel horrible, destroy things in the house, try to cut me with glass shards, threatening to kill my parents. I wrote it off a few times because I was young and naïve and because…well…because he became best of friends with Ethan. Everything was fine as long as he was with Ethan and I had hoped that my brother could, you know, help him with those issues enough that it could save our marriage."

"And did he, Miss Morris?", Steve asked quietly, only to receive a disheartened headshake.

"If anything, it got worse. It seemed as though Daniel fed off Ethan's confidence and his role in the department, it made him…cocky. He would say things like "well, if so and so does that to me again, I'll kill him and make sure nobody is gonna suspect me of doing it. I got friends in the department and all." I hoped that he didn't mean it and I prayed that it wasn't true and that Ethan would never even think of offering his help in covering up a crime but lately, after everything that transpired, well…I am horribly afraid that this may have happened."

Unable to hide a single tear escaping her rigid features, the stared at the floor, her shoulder slumping the longer she talked about the issue.

"You are referring to the Saunders killing?", Mike asked matter-of-factly, surprised when she shook her head.

"No. And yes. But not really, I guess.", Betsy replied, as more tears escaped her sad blue eyes, "You see, Daniel and I tried for a baby, but I had trouble conceiving. And I could sense that the longer it took, the more frustrated he became and the more he resented me. He started to make fun of my body. During my periods, he told me to stay out of the house and away from him. Each negative pregnancy test made him angrier at me. So when he claims that the miscarriage was the conduit to our divorce, he is right…to an extent."

When both detectives stared at her wide-eyed, Betsy shrugged indifferently.

"But then again, it was part of that metamorphosis, of him becoming the person he is today. I guess in the end, he got tired of me and started seeing other women. I could tell by the different smells he was covered in when he came home late, by the secret phone calls and the looks I got whenever I went shopping. It was no secret and I guess I didn't care at the time because it helped diffuse some of the anger he harbored toward me."

After a long silence, Betsy put her cup down and straightened out, her features turning to stone.

"Her name was Brandi LaRue. I found out through a friend. She was only twenty-two, attending the community college. She was everything I wasn't. She was beautiful, skinny, a lot of fun…and eventually missing."

"I…I beg your pardon?"

Fighting the urge to ask several questions at the same time, Mike reached for the water carafe to refill his glass, barely able to contain his excitement.

"You heard me right, Lieutenant. She went missing after dating Daniel for a couple of months. They supposedly put on search parties and all but never found her. People kept saying she moved away in the middle for the semester but I knew better. I knew Daniel went to see her the night of her disappearance and he didn't come home till early the next morning."

"You think he killed her and hid the body someplace?"

This time it was Steve who spoke up, his curious green eyes never leaving the woman.

"I think he killed her and Ethan helped make sure she wouldn't be found. Who knows, he had marriage trouble at the time too. It's possible he got in on the action as well."

Rubbing his forehead at the pile of circumstantial evidence that was about to reach the sky, Mike took a sip of water, hoping to formulate his thoughts properly.

"Do you have any proof of this, Miss Morris? Why didn't you tell me about this last night?"

"I hadn't made the connection until you told me about your conversation with Daniel…", she justified, weaving her hands in frustration, "And suddenly, it all made sense. You see, I knew that our marriage was approaching the end and I was afraid that he would try anything in his power to make me look like the one who was at fault in front of the judge. So even before Brandi went missing, I gathered evidence of his relationship with her. I requested call records and itemized lists for our credit card and it allowed me to track Daniel's whereabouts. The dinner bills were small enough that it looked like he was the only one eating but I am sure he paid for her meal in cash to deceive me. The phone records were clearer, as they showed him calling her a lot…as well as Ethan's private line, especially the night of her disappearance, right after he came home. There was a dinner receipt for the evening and then, once he came home early that morning, there were three calls made to Ethan's number all within a few minutes of each other."

Running a hand through his silver hair, Mike glanced over at his partner, both of them sensing the direction the conversation was headed- and the chance for an imminent case break awaiting them.

"Do you still possess those records, Miss Morris?"

"I don't.", she answered quietly, then raised her arms in defense, "I hid them. I had to make sure that Daniel would never suspect me of having them, so I hid them in the house."

"Where?"

"In a large envelope behind the big laundry sink. It contained all the phone records, credit card bills, some notes I had made about the days he was gone, newspaper clippings about the disappearance as well as a shirt of his that had several blood drops on it, like when you're beating somebody. Daniel must have overlooked it when he tossed it into the hamper and he never bothered to do laundry anyway, so I figured all my…material would be safe there. After the divorce was final, I left it there because he was watching my every move as I grabbed my belongings. I tried to collect it when he put the house up for sale but it sold so quickly, I never got a chance to get back in."

"And the Saunders must have found it…", Mike surmised, causing Betsy to nod.

"While I pray that this isn't true, I am just afraid that they probably brought it straight over to Ethan…and signed their own death certificate."