Reed was about to say something, but Antonio stopped him and showed his police badge.
—This is the blood of an innocent security guard who died because of your greed.
Ethan pressed his hand directly against her face.
—Now you have two options… You cooperate and tell me who was involved, and my friends here will make sure the prosecutor isn't too harsh… or I make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison.
The moment his palm pulled away, Sabrina gasped for air, a thin sheen of sweat breaking across her forehead. Her expression shifted, and when she saw the gun and badge tucked into his waistband, she said in shock:
—Are you a police officer? I want a lawyer.
She thought of something and added urgently:
—I won't say a word until my lawyer gets here.
That reaction confirmed precisely that she was involved. With so many people present, Ethan couldn't use any harsh methods on her and could only step back.
Erin moved quickly, closing the distance before the other woman could react. She grabbed her wrists and cuffed her with a clean motion, barely a second slower than necessary, savoring the moment.
—Sabrina Spelman, you're going to have to come with us to the station —she said firmly— You're under arrest for attempted robbery and conspiracy to commit homicide.
The redhead, impeccably composed and impossible to overlook, didn't resist. She simply brought her hands behind her back, compliant, lips sealed and gaze fixed straight ahead.
Ethan glanced at the row of money counters nearby, then focused on Reed. The latter quickly explained:
—Mr. Morgan, I don't know what happened. I promise, whatever this is, it has nothing to do with me.
Judging by his earlier expression, he didn't seem to be faking it. If this had been something he'd orchestrated himself, the shock on his face when he saw Ethan walk in wouldn't have been something he could hide.
—I hope you're telling the truth.
Watching Sabrina as Erin escorted her out of the conference room, Ethan licked his lips. Reed stepped forward anxiously, about to say something. Ethan waved a hand, cutting him off.
—Whatever it is, we'll talk about it later.
On the other side, Antonio was speaking with his lawyer friend. Ethan approached and apologized in a low voice. The other party already knew what had happened and said it was fine. They would simply have to reschedule.
The group left the conference room, and behind them came a loud crash—the sound of a money counter being smashed.
Back at the station, the relevant evidence from the scene had already been sent in. Ethan picked up the file prepared by Jin and quickly entered the interrogation room. Antonio, under Hank Voight's instructions, was already seated inside, worried Ethan might do something impulsive.
—Bang!
Ethan slammed the folder onto the table, making Sabrina flinch.
Exquisite makeup. A slim waist, full chest, striking eyes… He hadn't expected her to be so beautiful—and at the same time, so poisonous.
—Let's introduce ourselves again.
Ethan pulled out a chair and sat down, looking at her without expression.
—I'm Detective Morgan, and this is Detective Dawson. You should know exactly why you're here, right?
Sabrina kept her mouth tightly shut, her eyes darting quickly. Ethan opened the folder and placed the A4-sized photos in front of her one by one. As she looked at the gruesome images of the men killed, her breathing quickened.
—What the hell is wrong with you? Get them out of my face. I don't know any of these people.
—Look at him!
He pulled out the photo of the parking lot security guard.
—I'm sure you know those men, but you're right about one thing… you don't know him.
Sabrina squeezed her eyes shut.
—I want a lawyer.
Seeing her attitude, Ethan slammed his fist on the table.
—I'm giving you half an hour —Ethan said, bracing his hands on the table, leaning just enough to invade her space without touching her—. Thirty minutes to think it through.
He paused briefly, letting her feel the weight of every second.
—If when I come back you still refuse to give me information about your accomplices… I'll let you go —he added, with a calm that wasn't reassuring—. And not just that, I'll close the case.
His eyes never left hers. Sabrina narrowed her eyes, suspicion immediately forming on her face.
—I'm telling the truth.
Without looking away, Ethan arranged the photos in a row on the table, one by one with sharp, deliberate taps—then another, and another.
—Three are dead —Ethan said, with a coldness that left no room for doubt—. Two are still alive… and one barely.
He pushed the photos across the table with two fingers, sliding them until she had no choice but to face them.
—Not only did they not get a single dollar —he continued—. They got nothing, and still did the job… but they almost died because someone didn't give them the right information about the target… guess who they're going to blame for everything.
He leaned in a little closer, just enough for his voice to reach her directly, with no escape. His tone dropped slightly, growing heavier. The silence between them tightened.
—And who do you think they're going to come after?
Sabrina shook her head immediately, her breathing uneven, terror showing without filter.
—No! You can't do that…
Ethan didn't raise his voice. —You're wrong —he replied, with unsettling calm— I can… and I'm more than willing to.
He lifted a finger slightly, a minimal, almost casual gesture.
—In fact, you can go now —he added, walking toward her, the handcuff key in his hand—. Miss Spelman… you're free to go.
Ethan shot Antonio a look. The two of them left the photos on the table and walked out of the interrogation room, leaving her alone.
In the observation room next door, Voight followed them. The three of them returned together to the bullpen.
The board was already covered with Sabrina's photo and images from the crime scene. Erin picked up a marker and wrote the name in firm strokes, underlining it once before looking up.
—Sabrina Spelman, 32 —she read in a clear voice—. Assistant to real estate agent Reed. She handled the entire process of Ethan's home purchase.
She paused for a second, tilting her head.
—And, if I may say so… you're an idiot. Or should we call you Richie Rich.
Several glances were exchanged before they nodded almost at the same time. Some didn't bother hiding the look they gave Ethan.
—I love you guys too —Ethan shot back instantly, raising both middle fingers with a crooked grin, more provocative than amused.
Erin ignored him and continued, getting back on track.
—During the deal, Sabrina found out that our… distinguished wealthy gentleman was going to pay for the property entirely in cash.
She paused briefly, setting the rhythm.
—She knew the time and place. So she got help… put together a small group of thugs to intercept him and rob him —she said, leaning lightly against the edge of the desk, her relaxed posture contrasting with the gravity of what she was laying out.
When she said "rob him," she extended the marker to the side, pointing at the four duffel bags next to Ethan's desk. The effect was immediate. Several eyes shifted toward them almost involuntarily. There was something about those bags that drew attention.
Erin set the marker down with a soft click.
—Of course… this is just a hypothesis.
Silence settled for a moment.
—Motive? —she asked, looking at the others.
Hank Voight, arms crossed, scanned the room before answering:
—Financial problems. I checked her credit history —he said—. Sabrina's property went on the market last month. And her car payments have also been missed.
From the side, Jin raised his hand slightly without taking his eyes off the document he was holding.
—That could be her motive. If they managed to take that money, her financial problems would be solved immediately.
When he finished speaking, everyone looked back at Ethan's desk.
Erin spoke first.
—And you… are you out of your mind? Can you at least take care of your image? People are going to start thinking you're a bank robber or some damn trafficker pretending to be a cop.
What was even more surprising than the attempted robbery was that Ethan had been walking around alone with that much money.
—Going out alone with that much cash… you have no idea how stupid and dangerous that was. And more importantly, how do you even have that kind of money?
He usually kept a low profile, but now he'd shocked them. Erin couldn't contain her curiosity anymore.
—Why do you have so much cash…?
Hank Voight clapped twice, cutting in to help Ethan.
—Focus on solving the case. As for Sabrina's social circle, any leads?
At that moment, Ethan's phone rang. Seeing it was Reed, he hesitated for a moment, gestured to Hank, and walked to the side.
While the others analyzed the case, Ethan listened to Reed's frantic explanation. Since his company dealt mainly in high-end real estate, this kind of news would be devastating to his business. Eventually, his rambling got to the point.
For this transaction, the seller would pay them a five percent commission—but it would be used to compensate Ethan, in exchange for him signing a confidentiality agreement.
Without a word, Ethan hung up.
Do they think they can brush me off with my own money?
At that moment, Sumner hurried over.
—Detective Morgan… she's willing to talk, but she wants us to speak with the prosecutor to reduce the charges in exchange.
Ethan checked his watch; less than fifteen minutes had passed, which meant she'd thought it through carefully.
Inside the interrogation room, Ethan stood with his arms crossed, staring at Sabrina. —Talk.
The few photos left on the table still bothered her, and after some consideration, she finally understood.
—I owe a lot of money to the wrong people —Sabrina admitted, her voice low and tense—. They've been pressuring me… following me. I had no way to pay them back, but they found out where I worked.
She picked up the glass with barely steady hands and took a small sip, more to buy time than out of thirst.
—And they asked you to find someone… a target? —Antonio asked from the side, without taking his eyes off her.
Sabrina nodded slowly, swallowing before answering. Her eyes shifted to Ethan, lingering a second too long.
—Yes. When Mr. Morgan came yesterday to see the house… —she paused briefly— and this morning said he'd come back with the cash to close the deal… I knew it was the opportunity they'd been waiting for.
—So I contacted Marcus Holloway —she murmured, her voice breaking—. He told me that if I got the money, he'd wipe out my debts… and give me eight hundred thousand.
Tears began to stream uncontrollably down her face as she spoke.
—I… I only asked them to scare you —she sobbed, shaking her head over and over—. I didn't know they were going to try to kill you.
Her crying filled the room. Her once-composed face fell apart, soaked in tears, her breathing uneven… giving her a fragile, almost defenseless appearance.
Ethan felt a chill run down his spine; he could feel several pairs of eyes watching him through the one-way mirror behind him. He adjusted his posture and cleared his throat once.
—Is the Holloway you mentioned among these people?
Sabrina shook her head. —These are his men; they're all in charge of collecting debts.
—Address.
Ethan handed her the notebook.
—Write down this Holloway's address and phone number, and I'll verify what you're saying.
Sabrina grabbed a pen and quickly wrote a name.
—All I know is that he hangs out at a boxing club.
He took the notebook; it contained a phone number and an address.
—You'd better hope we can find Holloway and his men.
Ethan tapped the notebook. When he and Antonio left the interrogation room, a group of people rushed past them. He tore out the page with the number and handed it to Jin, who quickly ran downstairs to trace the signal.
—Who's coming with me to the boxing club? Ethan waved the notebook as he asked.
Without hesitation, everyone raised their hands, looking ready for trouble.
—Erin, go with him and make sure he doesn't get into trouble! Hank ordered sternly. —The rest of you, keep looking for the accomplices. One of them is injured—check the hospitals.
He grabbed his sunglasses from the desk and ran downstairs.
—Ethan, come here!
Platt looked at him with concern and reached out to touch his face. —Are you okay?
—I am. You should see the other guys! Ethan turned around, flexing his muscles. —By the way, could you give this back to Burgess? —he said, handing her the sunglasses. —I borrowed them yesterday and forgot to return them.
—No problem —Platt said, trying to encourage him—. Go get those bastards.
—No problem.
Ethan waved and ran downstairs.