In the NYPD interrogation room, Zoya Carter sat slumped in her chair, visibly distraught. She had cooperated fully when the detectives brought her to the station, only to be informed that her husband was dead—killed by another Mrs. Carter.
Behind the one-way mirror in the observation room, three men stood exchanging incredulous looks.
"How the hell did this guy pull it off?" Danny Reagan muttered. Despite having pieced together the bigamy theory, seeing it confirmed in real life left his worldview shaken.
The fact that Kevin Carter had managed to marry two stunning women—Zoya, a blonde in her twenties, and Deborah, a brunette in her thirties—made the situation all the more baffling.
"Kevin Carter's parents died when he was young, and his only sibling, an older brother, passed away in a car accident in Seattle ten years ago. He used his brother's Social Security number to create a second identity under his own name," Jack explained, shaking his head. "The fragmented state of American record-keeping between states is a joke. Once you cross state lines, creating a fake identity becomes surprisingly easy."
Mac Taylor nodded, his face a mixture of fascination and disbelief. "I've seen my fair share of strange cases, but this one really takes the cake. Marrying two women who live in the same neighborhood—it's almost inconceivable. Do you really think the two Mrs. Carters didn't know about each other?"
Danny crossed his arms, his disbelief turning into impatience. "There's only one way to find out. Let's ask her. I'm betting she'll demand a lawyer within ten minutes and refuse to give us her DNA."
Jack leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "While it's true that beautiful women can be skilled liars, I'm inclined to believe she's innocent. Zoya Carter doesn't show any signs of physical conditioning, and she doesn't fit the profile of someone capable of the violent acts we've seen in the linked cases."
He continued, "Some of the crimes require a certain level of physical strength, and her reaction when we told her how her husband died—that kind of raw emotion isn't something you can fake easily."
Danny wasn't convinced, grabbing a bottle of water and a glass. "She still had a motive, didn't she?"
This was an old detective trick. Even if a suspect refused to provide DNA samples, any glass or cup they drank from could still be used to extract DNA and fingerprints.
Leaving Mac Taylor behind in the observation room, Jack and Danny entered the interrogation room.
"Mrs. Carter, thank you for your patience," Jack began, pouring a glass of water and sliding it across the table to her.
"It's fine. I needed time to compose myself anyway," Zoya said, her voice trembling as she wiped tears from her eyes. She took the glass and downed it in one gulp.
"I can't believe this is all real. He was married to someone else. And now he's dead. God forgive me, but I don't even know if I should feel sad about it."
"Feeling angry about it would be perfectly natural," Jack said gently, offering her a reassuring smile. "As a victim in this situation, no one would blame you for that."
Danny paced back and forth behind her, adopting the "bad cop" role to complement Jack's comforting demeanor. "You never suspected anything unusual?"
Zoya let out a bitter laugh. "Kevin said he was involved in several import-export businesses, so he often had to travel for work—or so he told me."
She paused, her voice growing steadier as she continued. "Shortly after we got engaged, I earned my law license and got an offer from a major law firm. You know how it is—I was working 16-hour days. We were both rarely at home."
Jack glanced at her file. Her explanation made sense. Junior lawyers were notoriously overworked.
He pulled out a photo of the ring found on Kevin and showed it to her. "Did you give this to Kevin?"
Her eyes welled up again as she nodded, covering her face with her hands. "Last night was our first wedding anniversary. I made his favorite dinner."
"Steak, asparagus, corn, and salad?" Danny asked, his tone a little sharp. While his wife, Linda, was also a traditional and caring partner, Kevin Carter's actions deeply disgusted him. He swore his feelings weren't rooted in jealousy but outright contempt.
"Yes, how did you know?" Zoya looked surprised.
Jack and Danny exchanged a glance but chose not to answer. Discussing the autopsy findings with a grieving spouse would only add to her distress.
Danny shifted gears. "Since last night was your anniversary, did you say anything when he left after dinner? Did you leave the house afterward?"
"No, I cleaned up, then worked on case files until late at night before going to bed. God, I'm such an idiot! He told me he had to catch a red-eye flight to San Francisco for an important client meeting. I had my own workload, so I didn't complain much."
Seeing her start to break down, Jack reassured her, "This isn't your fault. Trust is the foundation of any marriage. He just took advantage of that trust."
Danny placed another photo on the table, this time of Deborah Carter, the other wife. The brunette looked slightly older and had a more mature aura. Upon closer inspection, there was a subtle similarity in the two women's features.
Zoya stared at the photo, dazed. After a long pause, she asked, "Is this her? His other wife? Did she kill him?"
Jack noted how Zoya consistently referred to Kevin as "him," never by his name. He nodded. "Yes. Her name is Deborah. Have you ever seen her before?"
"No," Zoya said, shaking her head as tears streamed down her face again.
"Have you ever been to her apartment? It's in the building next to yours," Danny pressed.
"Of course not!" Zoya replied, startled by the question.
"Mrs. Carter—" Danny began, only to be interrupted.
"Please, just call me Zoya. I... I don't know. That title feels so wrong now," she said, her voice shaky.
Danny adjusted his tone. "Zoya, we need you to provide a DNA sample for elimination purposes."
"Why? I don't understand. Didn't you say she already confessed?" Zoya looked genuinely puzzled.
"Well," Jack said with a slight cough, "we suspect there might have been a third party at the scene. If it's not you, the DNA will prove that."
"I thought I had the perfect man. The perfect life. I don't know how I'll move on or get through this. He was everything to me. I'm glad she killed him. Otherwise, I would've done it myself."
After providing a cheek swab for DNA testing, Zoya Carter left the station in tears, leaving the detectives with her parting words.
"Do you think we need to assign someone to tail her?" Jack asked Danny.
"Probably not. If she's really the female serial killer, then her acting deserves an Oscar," Danny admitted, conceding that he'd lost his bet. "Whatever happens, though, can we not order lobster for tonight's overtime dinner?"
"Fine. You get us some decent coffee, and I'll handle the food," Jack replied with a shrug. They'd be pulling an all-nighter—more than 20 case files and pieces of evidence were already en route. Tonight promised to be a long one.
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