‘I mean, it’s probably nothing,’ I hesitated, still fingering the locket hanging from my neck. Hannigan’s observant eyes zeroed in on it, so I dropped my hand back to my lap quickly.

‘Why don’t you go ahead and tell us anyway, just in case,’ Beck prompted. Hannigan was still staring at my necklace.

‘Is that a cross on your locket?’ Hannigan interrupted, gesturing to the locket. ‘I don’t remember you wearing it during our previous conversations.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Yeah, Cris sent it to me. It belonged to my mother.’

‘So, they are a religious family then, yes?’ Hannigan asked.

‘Um, I guess so,’ I said hesitantly. I swallowed, trying to force down the lump in my throat. ‘They are religious but I’m not sure to what extent. There are a few praying Virgin Mary relics in their home. A painting and a figurine.’ I looked nervously between the two of them, but their stoic expressions gave away nothing. Hannigan took down another note before flipping to the next blank page.

‘That’s really good,’ Beck said, encouraging.

‘It might not mean anything,’ I said hurriedly. The walls felt like they were closing in on Cris and panic was creeping in. ‘My adoptive family is religious too and my grandma has tons of religious art around her house,’ I added.

‘Sometimes you have to fit all the pieces together in a complex investigation like this before you can tell what’s important,’ Beck said. ‘But that’s why it’s crucial you share anything with us that you think of, even if it may seem insignificant. Remember, just as you’re afraid it may point the finger at your uncle, it may also help clear him if he’s innocent. It’s our job to interpret all the data available so that the correct person is brought in for these crimes. It wouldn’t help anyone to go after the wrong guy.’

I tried to believe her. I remained quiet for another long moment, waiting for someone to break the tension.

Hannigan rubbed his chin, looking at me thoughtfully as if debating what he should tell me. ‘Okay Liz, I want to share something else with you about TSK.’

I nodded, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. The responsibility of knowing private information about the crimes weighed heavily on my shoulders but at the same time, I needed any detail they would give me.

‘Remember how we talked about the young women being found in the storage bins?’ I nodded again, trying to keep the visual of the bodies at bay. I wondered if I should tell them about the storage containers that I saw in Cris’s garage but kept quiet. Like my mom said, most people had those. ‘A detail that we’ve kept private is that there was a layer of small pebbles at the bottom of the containers that their legs were pressing on.’