Chapter 2 - To have and to hold

It took only a brief moment to recover from his shock, and then Steve rushed into the interrogation room where his wife was sitting. "Ellen, what are you doing here?"

The surprised woman looked up at her husband and wasn't sure if she saw anger, confusion, or just plain annoyance. She was hoping to have given her statement and leave the precinct before he returned, but obviously her plan had failed. She would have been glad to explain to him what had happened, but he didn't even give her a chance to answer his first question before he began asking more of them. "You're the suspect? What were you doing at Hackett's apartment anyway? Don't tell me that you were working on a story about hitmen for the mob? And I don't understand why you just didn't come to me?" He had made his way over to her, and, once he stopped talking, he stared directly at her with an accusatory look, one that she hadn't seen from him for a long time. Actually, she hadn't seen it since before they were engaged when he had caught her sending what he thought was the story about Burkett Pharmaceuticals to her publisher.

Instantly, her defenses went up, and she returned his glare with one of her own. She narrowed her eyes and scowled at him, speaking volumes with her expression without saying a single word out loud. The stare down continued for a long minute until Brett Collins decided that he should intervene. He cleared his throat and, in an almost embarrassed voice, said, "Steve?" The irritated husband moved his head to see Brett, but the look of venom hadn't completely disappeared from his eyes.

A forced smile appeared on Brett's face as the thought passed through his mind, I hope they're still married at the end of the day. Once again, the hesitant detective cleared his throat and continued. "Well, shortly after you left this morning, she arrived at the front desk. Let me tell you what I know so far."

Ellen parked her car about a block down the street from the precinct, wondering what she should do. She had already been to the crime scene and discretely asked some questions, discovering, to her dismay, that the case was being handled by one of the detectives out of Steve's precinct. She had returned to her car and sat in it for another fifteen minutes, inwardly debating her options. Several came to mind, but she knew that only one was the right thing. Steve had always told her how much easier investigations would be if people just came forward and told the truth, so she had groaned out loud in frustration and drove toward the police station.

During her time writing for "The National Scoop", Ellen had become pretty good at discrete surveillance, but her attempts had never fooled Steve. It seemed he had an innate radar for seeking her out, so she had parked far enough away from the precinct that he wouldn't notice her car and waited, gathering her nerve to go in. To her surprise, she spotted Steve's car leaving the station, and, as luck would have it, he was driving in the opposite direction from where she was parked. Since she had no idea how long he might be gone, she decided she'd better hurry with her mission.

Literally running from her car, she entered the front lobby out of breath and smiled at the officer on duty at the front desk, who, even though she didn't recognize him, knew instantly who she was. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sloan, but your husband just left a few minutes ago."

She replied, "Oh, I didn't come here to see him."

A look of confusion appeared on the officer's face, and the other two policemen behind the desk quietly, but not very discretely, turned their attention to the discussion.

"I would like to talk to the officer in charge of the Samuel Hackett case, I believe that's Detective Brett Collins."

The officer raised his eyebrows, surprised that she would know that information. "How did you know he was in charge of that case?"

"I'm a reporter." She shrugged her shoulders.

The officer nodded, but misunderstood her intentions. "Oh, well, in that case you need to speak with Sergeant Billingsly, she handles all the press conferences."

"Oh, no, I'm not here to get a story," Ellen corrected him. "I'm here because I was inside his apartment."

"You were inside Detective Collins' apartment?"

"No!" Ellen strongly denied the accusation. "I was inside Samuel Hackett's apartment."

"Ma'am, you could be arrested for that. No one is supposed to cross a police line and enter a crime scene." The officer had suddenly turned very serious, as had his two colleagues who were still watching with great interest.

Ellen let her disgust be heard in her voice, "It wasn't a crime scene yet."

"and the more she said, the more confused the desk officer got, and he finally called me down to talk to her," Brett finished his explanation.

Knowing that Ellen was involved, Steve believed that every word of the story was indeed true. What he still didn't understand was why it had all occurred, but during the time Brett was talking, he had calmed down considerably. He took a deep breath, turned back to his wife, and asked, "Ellen, I'm really confused. Why don't you tell me what is going on?"

Ellen also took a long deep breath, and, for once, she relished the silence in the room. She hadn't done anything wrong, and she didn't see any reason for Steve to get involved. Turning to Brett, she inquired, "You're the investigating officer, right? I don't have to tell him anything, do I?"

Brett opened his mouth to answer, but Steve spoke first. "What? Ellen, why wouldn't you want me to know?"

Quickly responding, she practically spat her words. "Well, you seem to think I did something wrong, and"

"I didn't say that," Steve interrupted, his voice rising in volume.

"You didn't have to!" she shot back.

The argument might have continued, but, once again, Brett felt like he needed to referee. "Excuse me." He had to speak rather loudly.

Both of them looked at him, and, in the hopes of dispelling the tension that was building, he spoke quietly. "Mrs. Sloan, even though Steve isn't officially assigned to this case, he really does need to hear what you have to say." Ellen's glare narrowed in on Detective Collins, while Steve's face showed a look of smug satisfaction. "Let me explain," Brett continued. "You may not realize it, Ma'am, but you actually could be in a lot of trouble here. From a police perspective, you may very well be considered a suspect in Mr. Hackett's murder."

"I didn't murder him!" Ellen burst out. "I did go to see him, and I did hit him with a baseball bat, but he was alive and well when I left his apartment!"

"You hit him with a baseball bat?" A new worry rose up within Steve.

Remembering that she was still angry with her husband, she crossed her arms, looked at Detective Collins, and stated, "I'm not saying anything else until he leaves."

"Ellen!" Steve was not only shocked, but also hurt by her words, so he attacked back. "You have to tell me what happened!"

She remained resolved in her posture and stubbornly kept silent.

Steve tried again. "Ok, I'll leave, but I'll just go and stand on the other side of that two-way mirror and listen from out there." He looked at her, but saw no change in her demeanor. Deciding to change his tactics with the hopes of reasoning with her, he calmed his voice and continued speaking. "Ellen, at some point in time, I'm going to find out what happened," he paused, but then added, "I only want to help you, Honey."

Ellen knew he was right, but she hated to admit it. She huffed, kept her arms crossed in front of her, rolled her eyes upward, and emitted a small, "Arghh." She finally looked directly at her husband. "I didn't do anything wrong, Steve, and I didn't kill Hackett."

Glad that she was talking again, he nodded. "I'm sure that you didn't. Now, why don't you start from the beginning and tell me what did happen."

"I first met Sam a few years ago."

"Sam?" Steve repeated, surprised that she was referring to him in such a familiar manner.

"I didn't know that he was mob hit man at the time, and"

The door to the interrogation room burst open interrupting her story, and Cheryl announced. "Steve, Chief Masters is in the captain's office, and he isn't too happy about the latest dumpster killing. He wants you there, now."

The poor timing was unbelievable to Steve. He released a huge sigh, showing his annoyance at the entire situation, and then turned to his wife. "Ellen, this should only take a few minutes. Just don't say anything else until I get back, ok?"

Since Brett had informed her that she was a possible murder suspect, she had been worried, but as she looked into Steve's eyes, she sensed that the situation was worse than she had originally thought. She nodded her answer, took comfort in her husband's reassuring smile, and watched him as he left the room.

Brett waited an awkward minute and then asked, "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

In a quiet voice, she replied, "No, thank you."

"Well, I'll just wait outside until Steve gets back. If you'll remain in here, I'm sure it won't be long." He nervously smiled and exited, leaving Ellen wondering if her earlier decision had indeed been the right one after all.

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Steve had grabbed the file folders from his desk and headed into Captain Woodruff's office, mentally recalling as many of the details of the cases as he could, hoping to be able to answer Chief Masters' questions quickly and get back to the interrogation room. The door was slightly ajar, and Steve waited only a brief moment before he received the order to "Come in." The captain was seated as his desk and the chief was standing next to the desk, his height giving a sense of extreme superiority, something that Steve found a little intimidating.

"Lieutenant Sloan," Captain Woodruff began, "would you please update Chief Masters on the dumpster killings case?" Steve hadn't missed the fact that the discussion had turned directly to the murders, skipping all pleasantries.

"Yes, Sir. There are now six murders with similar MOs, which leads us to believe that they were committed by the same person." He handed the files over to Chief Masters and continued to briefly recount the details of each of them. Chief Masters perused the paperwork as Steve spoke, glancing down at the detective only every now and then.

While Steve was explaining the details of the third crime scene, one of his colleagues came to the open door and signaled for Captain Woodruff to join him in the hall. Realizing that the matter didn't concern him and that the captain already knew about the incident, Steve continued on with his report. Captain Woodruff returned about five minutes later and quietly took his seat behind the desk again.

Steve tried to make the summary as complete as he could, while keeping it as succinct as possible, wanting to leave and return to what he deemed a more important matter. The chief had a few questions, which Steve answered to the satisfaction of his superior.

Steve was relieved when Chief Masters said, "Very good, Lieutenant, I assume you realize that this case is your top priority."

"Yes, Sir, I do." Steve looked from the chief to his captain. He would make it his top priority as soon as he cleared up the situation with Ellen. "Will that be all?"

"No, Lieutenant. There is one more thing," Captain Woodruff informed him.

"What's that, Sir?" Steve tried to appear patient, but on the inside he was wishing that this interrogation would be over with so that he could begin to conduct one of his own.

"I understand that your wife was brought in here this morning, a material witness to the murder of Samuel Hackett."

"No, Sir, that isn't correct. She voluntarily came in, and I'm sure that she isn't involved. Detective Collins and I were beginning to gather the details when you called me in here."

Chief Masters furrowed his brow at the news and seemed very interested, but didn't interfere with the conversation.

Captain Woodruff stood up and handed Steve a piece of paper. "Well, Lieutenant, that's not how the FBI views it."

Steve took the report and looked at it, both shocked and rendered speechless by what it said. Captain Woodruff began to explain the situation to Chief Masters. "They've taken Mrs. Sloan into protective custody."

Steve quickly turned and headed out of the office in search for Ellen. As if Captain Woodruff could read his mind, he called after him, "Don't bother, Lieutenant. She's already gone."