She was flippant, unphased by the situation she found herself in. In the stark lighting of the interrogation room, she looked even wilder. Marcia belonged in the darkness and colored lights of the stage and fit in nowhere else. She was the perfect kind of outcast to admire Vincent Vallejo.

“It would be coincidence if it happened once,” Ruby said, “but you toured through a murder spree three years ago as well.”

Marcia nodded, as if considering this.

“And as I recall, I was innocent,” Marcia replied. “What makes you think this time will be any different?”

She had a different kind of arrogance than Thorne or Delko. It made Ruby look at Marcia differently.

“You could have been an accomplice three years ago,” Gabe said. “Just because you had an alibi doesn't mean you weren't keeping secrets, then and now.”

That was always the thing that got to Ruby. There always seemed to be something Marcia wasn't saying.

It may have only been three years since they had sat like this, a heavy interrogation table between them, but Ruby had changed exponentially in that time. She had become a better agent.

“You think I know Vincent personally?” Marcia said, looking to Gabe specifically.

“You tell me,” Gabe replied.

“He takes care of his own. He's lawless, like us on the road. Doesn't need to follow your rules,” Marcia said.

“And what makes you think that?” Ruby cut in.

“From experience,” she said, “what do you think?”

If Marcia was so keen on Vallejo, Ruby would try a different tactic.

“You know, it seems like the two of you were close,” Ruby said.

“We are,” Marcia said. Not were, but are. It was a bold statement considering Ruby knew Vallejo had no contact with the outside world. Not since Ruby's visit to the prison. Was Marcia bluffing or did Vallejo truly have another way of doling out orders?

“How did you meet?” Ruby asked.

Marcia set her chin in her hands, studying Ruby intently.

“He talks about you, you know,” she said. “You are always on his mind.”

Ruby willed her cheeks not to flush red, worried that her rising anger might be interpreted as something else.

Gabe raised an eyebrow.

“Are you jealous?” he asked pointedly.

“It's not jealousy,” Marcia said, taking a deep breath. “He told me his fantasies.”

“And did you share them? Want to take part?” Gabe asked.

Marcia leaned forward, a wicked grin crossing her face. “I never said I wasn't willing, but I didn't say I had any part of all this either. Those are two different things, Agent.”

“You know, I believe you, Marcia,” Ruby said, “but I think you were too enthusiastic for him. He didn’t want you to be his partner. And he didn’t want to kill you, either. You wouldn’t put up the fight he wanted.”

Marcia smile fell. Maybe Ruby had managed to get under her skin.