He's withholding evidence from a police investigation - or, he's lying. Will's eyes don't switch away from Marcus's, intent on seeking out a tell here or a flinch there.
They're playing the same game, for a moment. Humoring each other. Will feels the incidental mirroring like a foreign phenomenon, scrapes against it to try to pry out any reason that isn't 'because Marcus actually thinks he's telling the truth'. Will isn't usually constrained by his own assumption of the narrative, but in this instance, he just can't see past his own certainty of how the world works.
"Are you offering to lead us to where Laura is?" Will clarifies, an incredibly reasonable suggestion from where he's sitting. His face is blankly conflicted, smoothed out with uncertain focus. "Act as a consultant for the FBI."
"For the FBI?" Marcus says, eyebrows going up. "No, and I don't think you're in a position to make that offer, either. But I'll work with you."
He glances down again at his own knotted hands, thinks through what needs to happen. "Which, believe me, ain't something I do often. In this case, though." Unlaced his fingers, rubs his palms against his knees. "I'm going to need someone with me, and you...you want to make sure Madelyn's case is solved, you want to make sure more people don't follow her. Well, maybe you deserve to actually come to the right conclusion." Looking up and fixing Will with a hard kind of look, he says, "If you're coming, we should try and make the most of the light." Outside, the light's not yet fading, but it's gone burnt orange, lazy late afternoon colours: give it an hour and a half and it'll start to dim.
no subject
They're playing the same game, for a moment. Humoring each other. Will feels the incidental mirroring like a foreign phenomenon, scrapes against it to try to pry out any reason that isn't 'because Marcus actually thinks he's telling the truth'. Will isn't usually constrained by his own assumption of the narrative, but in this instance, he just can't see past his own certainty of how the world works.
"Are you offering to lead us to where Laura is?" Will clarifies, an incredibly reasonable suggestion from where he's sitting. His face is blankly conflicted, smoothed out with uncertain focus. "Act as a consultant for the FBI."
OH MY GOD I thought all this time I'd tagged back
He glances down again at his own knotted hands, thinks through what needs to happen. "Which, believe me, ain't something I do often. In this case, though." Unlaced his fingers, rubs his palms against his knees. "I'm going to need someone with me, and you...you want to make sure Madelyn's case is solved, you want to make sure more people don't follow her. Well, maybe you deserve to actually come to the right conclusion." Looking up and fixing Will with a hard kind of look, he says, "If you're coming, we should try and make the most of the light." Outside, the light's not yet fading, but it's gone burnt orange, lazy late afternoon colours: give it an hour and a half and it'll start to dim.