Detective Jameson walked into the interrogation room, followed by a nervous-looking young man named Tyler. Tyler had a lean build, a scruffy beard, and a nervous energy about him. Jameson was a middle-aged, balding man with a stern demeanor. The room was plain with two chairs and a table between them.
Jameson placed the folder he was carrying on the table and looked at Tyler. "Okay, son. I'd like you to tell me what happened to your sister."
Tyler shifted nervously in his seat. "Look, Detective, I already told the other guys. I don't know anything about her disappearance."
"You're her older brother, Tyler. You were the last one to see her alive," Jameson said.
Tyler sighed. "I know, but I swear I didn't do anything to her."
"You sure about that?" Jameson leaned forward and looked Tyler in the eye. "Because we have evidence that says otherwise."
"What kind of evidence?" Tyler asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice.
Jameson pulled out a photo and placed it in front of Tyler. It showed him and his sister, naked and entwined, in what appeared to be a bedroom.
Tyler's eyes widened. "What the fuck? Where did you get this?"