“It could take a team of psychiatrists to answer that,” said Ava. “I don’t like his behavior. It’s unnatural. He doesn’t move, there’s no inflections in his voice.” She rubbed at the back of her neck as she frowned. “It’s like he’s been programmed. Is someone pulling his history?”

“Yes. I have a staff member digging right now,” said Nora.

Zander continued with identical questions about Louis Samuelson and Lucien Fujioka. Micah answered perfectly.

Zander stood, thanked him, and started to leave.

“Wait!” said Micah, looking startled. “Now what?”

The three investigators in the side room leaned closer to the window.

Zander frowned. “You just confessed to four murders of cops. You go to prison.”

Nora snorted as Mason and Ava grinned at Zander’s exaggeration.

“But . . . what about a trial and stuff?”

“Don’t you know anything about crimes?” Zander asked, throwing Micah’s earlier words back in his face. “You just confessed. Prison.” He scowled at the man. “Or are you changing your story now?”

Mason couldn’t read the young man’s face. He seemed torn. Whatever he’d expected would happen after he’d confessed hadn’t happened.

“Don’t you need to take my fingerprints? My DNA? And compare it to your evidence?”

Zander waved a hand. “Later. They’ll take all that when they process you at the prison. Your confession is solid. You got all the facts right. Only someone who’d killed these men could have told me everything you just did.”

“I did kill them!” he said earnestly.

“Did I say you didn’t?” asked Zander. “I just wrote down your confession. We’re good with this. I don’t think I have any more questions.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll send in an officer.”

Micah stood. “Wait a minute. This can’t be all!”

“Oh, shit,” muttered Mason. “This isn’t right. Why’s he trying to convince us?”

“He may have not killed them, but he was there, or else he has access to the facts of these cases,” said Nora.

“I think he’s glory-seeking,” said Ava. “He wants to be questioned more. He’s not a killer.”

The door to the observation room opened and a female officer stepped in with a file. Zander entered right behind her. She handed the file to Nora and excused herself. Zander waited until the door closed and then looked at the three of them. “I don’t know what to think about that kid,” he stated. “Yes, he knows everything, but he’s not acting right. He’s involved somehow, but I don’t believe I was sitting across from a cop killer. It felt as if I was interviewing someone who plays a lot of video games and has never caused real violence.” He shook his head. “Something is off with him.”

“He wanted you to question him more,” Ava said. “Why would he do that?”

“I have no idea.” Zander turned to look at Micah through the glass. “What do we know about him?” Micah now paced back and forth in the interview room, a fixed scowl on his face, waves of frustration rolling off him.

Nora frowned as she scanned the file. “Oh brother.”

“What is it?” Mason asked.

“His background is a mess and I’m only looking at two years of it. This report started when he turned eighteen, and I suspect there’s more from when he was younger. He was expelled from high school his senior year after planting a fake bomb and calling in a threat. Portland police responded, and the bomb was a mishmash of harmless pipes and powder. Before that he’d been kicked out of another school for bringing two knives and an unloaded gun to school.”

“All that since he turned eighteen?” Ava asked.

“Yes. Looks like he was eighteen before he started his senior year . . . a bit older than the other students. He’s been busy. There’s a statement from a teacher that says she’d seen a disturbing pattern of overreaction to situations and it made her very nervous to be around him. The slightest thing would set him off in the classroom. He’d take offense if someone looked at him wrong or said something rude. She thinks that’s why he brought the knives and gun—on the same day—to the school. He felt he had something to prove.”

“What about his home life?” asked Zander.

“Doesn’t say. It lists the same address he gave earlier. Oh, wait. Here’s a report. His mother filed a report with local police that twice someone had left a dead cat on her porch. The responding officers questioned her son and Micah confessed that he’d done it.”

“What? That’s disgusting,” said Ava, wrinkling her nose. “Then what happened?”

“I can’t tell. That was pretty recent. I imagine he has a court date coming up. This report says the mother tried to stop the officers from pressing charges, saying that she didn’t want her son arrested, but it was out of her control by then. If he admitted to it, he’s going to be charged.”

“If my kid was killing cats, I’d want the police involved,” Ava said slowly. “I don’t think I’d try to protect him. Clearly he needs some sort of mental help.”

“It’s hard when it’s your kid,” Mason stated. “I’d murder Jake if I caught him doing that. But would I want him thrown in jail? I think I’d drag him to a shrink first.”