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Marcus ran a shaky hand through his hair, the weight of desperation in his posture. "My girlfriend, she's eight months pregnant. We're barely scraping by as it is." His voice broke, strained with fear. "Victor cornered me, said I had to back him up. I didn't know—didn't think it was about...murder."
Fiona exchanged a glance with Jake, both reeling from the implications. The lies they had been fed now unfurling into something far more sinister. She stepped closer to Marcus, her resolve strengthening. "We understand the position you're in," she assured him softly, trying to alleviate some of the terror that clung to him like a second skin. "But we need to know everything if we're going to find the truth. If Victor wasn't with you two nights ago, where was he?"
The question hung in the air, a specter that seemed to grasp at the edges of Marcus's composure. "I have no idea," he admitted, a hint of defeat deflating his posture. His gaze fell away, unable to meet Fiona's steady scrutiny.
"Think, Marcus," Fiona urged, her tone firm but not unkind. "Anything you remember could help."
Marcus shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. "He just wasn't there. That's all I know."
Jake leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but there was an undercurrent of intensity in his stance. "We need more on Victor," he said, his voice a quiet command. "What's he like as a manager? Any odd behaviors or habits we should know about?"
"Victor's...tough," Marcus started, reluctantly pulling back the curtain on their enigmatic manager. "A hard ass, definitely. He's got this way of making you feel small, you know?" A shiver ran through Marcus as he recalled interactions best forgotten. "And a creep too, always staring a little too long at the women who come in."
Jake took in Marcus’s words, his gaze distant. “Any incidents involving Victor and female employees?” he asked. Fiona saw Marcus hesitate, a fleeting look of fear crossing his face before he answered.
"Victor got fired from his last job for that sort of thing," he admitted, swallowing hard. "I mean, you probably know that. The guy is, like, a genius or whatever, but he's working here."
“He was an entomologist, yes,” Fiona pointed out.
“Yeah, well, the owner of this franchise is kind of a sleazy guy too and he doesn’t care about what Victor does as long as he runs the store,” Marcus said. “Some of the girls have been uncomfortable with him, but he’s never like, done anything.”
“Did Victor ever mention anything about spiders?” Fiona asked.
Marcus frowned. “No… I don’t think so.”
"Did he ever say anything about Erica Silverman?”
Marcus swallowed, wrapping his arms around himself as if to ward off a chill. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "She usually only comes in when it's crowded, and Victor tends to stay in the back during rush times. He did seem kind of fixated on the one girl, the martial artist?”
“Jamie,” Fiona said.
“Yeah. I only remember because she’d come in dressed up in those martial arts robes, and Victor would gawk at her. It made everyone uncomfortable.”
“But he didn’t mention the other two?”
“I don’t know, if he did, we didn’t notice.”
"Is that it?" Jake prodded, eyes sharp.
Marcus hesitated before adding, "He's not the worst guy in the world, despite that." He sighed, a conflicted note in his voice. "I don't think he's capable of murder. But then, why lie about the alibi? It doesn't add up. It's strange, right?"
"Strange doesn't begin to cover it," Jake muttered under his breath.
Fiona nodded, processing the information. Victor's character sketch was becoming increasingly complex, a puzzle with pieces that didn't quite fit. The lying about the alibi—what did it conceal?
Fiona studied Marcus, noting the tremble in his hands as he wiped them on his apron. His eyes darted to the doorway, then back to her and Jake, as if he expected someone to burst through at any moment.
"Marcus," Jake said, his voice steady, a rock in turbulent waters, "you've done the right thing by telling us this. We're going to dig into Victor's story, find out why he lied about where he was. That's what matters now."
"Whether it leads to murder charges or not," Fiona added, her own voice firm yet compassionate. She saw the weight of their words settle on Marcus's shoulders, saw the relief mingled with fear in his eyes.
"Thank you," Marcus murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He straightened slightly, as though steadying himself against an unseen force. "I didn't mean any harm by lying. I just... I really need this job."
Fiona nodded. The lines of worry etched across Marcus's face spoke volumes of the pressures he carried—pressures they had inadvertently compounded. But now, with the truth laid bare, perhaps they could start to unravel the knot of deceptions.
"Look," Marcus continued, a newfound resolve hardening his voice, "if you need anything else, any other info, just ask. I'll be honest from now on. I swear."
"Thank for that, Marcus. Honesty is what we need." Fiona replied, giving him a reassuring nod.
