He shakes his head, smirking, showing me his teeth, like a teenage bully I used to know in grade school, who tormented me for being gay.
I think of my father and see him in the chief’s temper.
“Why did you kill those women? Out of shame? Anger? Blackmail?” I pause. “Do women intimidate you, sir?”
“I didn’t do anything to those women,” is all he says, his voice faltering.
“It’s over,” I say, the words rolling off my tongue easily. “Whether or not you confess to me isn’t the issue. All the proof I need is in the report. And something you said at Ms. Block’s apartment.”
He looks at me squarely, his jaw jutting, trying to keep a cool composure. “What did I say?”
“It’s been bothering me since the investigation.”
He waits.
“You slipped badly when you mentioned Ms. Block’s missing Jeep.”
“Jeep?”