"What happened to Vera and Jeffries, boss?" Lilly asked, killing time in Stillman's office as she waited for Scotty to make his re-appearance. Come on Scotty, let's get a move on here.

"Well, Lil, you know Jeffries and Vera are a formidable duo. When Vera puts his mind to workin', that is. They auto tracked the woman Will Harrell sold his car to. She's a bartender, and they're on their way to see her now."

Lilly had to smile. A dark, dank tavern in the middle of the afternoon was right up Jeffries and Vera's alley.

"Hey, sorry I took a while. Gotta a call from an informant," said Scotty, shoving his hands in his pockets as he loitered outside Stillman's office uneasily. Roxy's gonna be a huge help to this Hammond case, but I sure as hell wish she'd just get one of those cheap pay-as-you-go cell phones so contact wasn't all the over the place!

Stillman and Lilly exchanged looks.

"Well, now that that's finished, you gonna be heading up to see Al Clarkson today, Lil?" asked Stillman as he tried to figure out the latest change the higher ups had done to his computer system.

"Yeah. He's at the Phillips Correctional Facility just outside city limits. That should take care of a good chunk of our shift nicely." Being at home will give me a chance to figure out how to ease in Scotty over there.


"You okay over there, Lilly?" Scotty asked as he continued to race towards Phillips. Thrilled when Lilly had headed over to the passenger side, Scotty had seized the opportunity to drive. There was a magical thing that happened to him behind the wheel of a car. No matter how much of an ass he had made of himself that morning in front of the new gang, hitting the gas once the city traffic was behind them had a cathartic effect. There was only him, the road, and the thrill of the background speeding by in a blur.

Now, catching sidelong glances of Lilly's face, Scotty began to wonder if he had overdone the speed just a little.

"Yeah," Lilly said quickly as she rolled down her window, the fresh air helping settle her churning stomach. Rule number two, Scotty, drive like a sane person. Though I gotta admit this beats Lass's driving. Even a little old lady blind from cataracts drives faster than he does.

Scotty smirked to himself. There was a lot to be said for being in control of his predicament for the first time that day. Take that, Madame Control!


Boy, some people have trouble forgetting where they are. Lilly tried to keep up the pretense of paying attention to Scotty's latest tirade against cold cases versus the fun he had had at West. Work now, rant later, Scotty.

"West detectives was all about the volume! It's hoppin'! You're out there running your whole shift!"

"Um-hmm," Lilly murmured.

"That's why I'm saying I just don't know if cold cases are gonna be my thing."

"And I just don't know if you have a choice, Scotty," Lilly replied evenly, shooting Scotty a look that indicated the end of the conversation as she opened the door to the room Al Clarkson was waiting in.

Bitch. Scotty scuffed one shoe along the floor as he trailed behind Lilly, resigning himself to yet another fishing exhibition.

The past twenty-two years had not been kind to Al Clarkson. The cocky, hotheaded twenty-one-year-old from the case file photos had disintegrated into a bitter man pushing middle age, his dark hair thinning and worry lines forming around his eyes and temples.

"What do you want with me?" asked Al, with a slight edge of his old fiery temper. Al was irritated he was missing his recreation time for this.

"Looking into your case again, Al," Lilly explained, coming closer to the table as Scotty shuffled along beside her with his hands in his pockets.

"Lock him up and throw away the key! That was my case."

"Well, we're looking at it again," said Scotty, suddenly sensing how hard getting this suspect's cooperation must be. Who can blame him though if he's been stuck here for a crime he didn't do.

Al gave both detectives a hard look before lowering his head. So it would begin again. The first ten years he was in prison, Al had written to every organization dedicated to freeing the wrongfully convicted he could find and had had a good dozen meetings just like this. None of them had panned out, so why should this one be any different?

But a chance was a chance, so Al took a deep swallow. "I didn't kill Paige. I got railroaded because I was twenty-one, hanging out with a high school girl."

"Well, those guys are a little creepy, Al," Scotty pointed out as he headed for a chair. Though Paige was a looker. Gotta give you that, Al.

Al shrugged. "I was a late bloomer."

"I see Rudy Tanner was your lawyer," said Lilly, taking a seat across from Al.

Al's mouth hardened. "Strip mall hack!"

"One of those guys in bad clothes, dropping his folders all over the place?" Scotty asked Lilly as he sat down. If this guy got a shit lawyer like that, no wonder he got landed in here with all that circumstantial evidence against him.

Lilly couldn't hide her surprised expression. Despite all his bitching and whining thus far, Scotty seemed to also have a gift for reading people. "That's him," said Lilly, shaking her head in agreement.

"I didn't know how to find someone good," Al admitted.

"How do you explain your gold chain being at the crime scene, Al?" asked Lilly, skipping the formalities and cutting to the chase.

"Paige was wearing it."

"She wear it a lot?" asked Scotty.

"When we were getting along."

"A lot of people say you had a real temper with her."

Scotty had to roll his eyes. How come it's fine for you to play hardball with suspects, but not me? Double standard here, Lilly.

Al shook his head. "She ran wild on me. I loved her, so it hurt. Jealousy ain't against the law."

"How come you weren't with her that night?" asked Scotty. If you two were getting along, that is.

"She was supposed to be grounded, but she musta snuck out," explained Al, supposing his long held theory aloud.

"Energetic girl," Lilly remarked.

"Yeah," said Al with a trace of sadness in his voice, "she was. My guess is she musta met some guy. She had someone on her mind around that time. She started wearin' make-up to her track meets, telling me she could race and look good. I called her out on it, but she always stormed away. I tried to keep my eyes on the groups she hung out with there, to see if I could figure out who it was."

"So, which one was he?" asked Scotty.

Al shook his head. "Never found out."

"Think it coulda been this guy? Will Harrell?" asked Lilly, showing a 1981 DMV photo of Will.

Will studied the plain faced boy with acne and a bad haircut with distaste. He knew Paige had had higher standards than that. "Nah, I never saw him."

"Okay," said Lilly, putting the photo away. "Thanks for your time, Al."

"Yeah," muttered Al. How many of these meetings had he had now? "Go pound sand."


"Is it just me, Lilly, or are prisons always way too hot?" asked Scotty, shivering as the brisk autumn wind hit them as they headed for their sedan.

Lilly laughed. "I got a theory on that. I figure the guards keep the heat up, figuring it'll make the prisoners too out of it to fight much. Heating is cheaper than healthcare."

Wow, you do got a sense of humour, Lilly. Who woulda thought?


Getting back to Headquarters, Scotty and Lilly found the relook into Paige's case was gaining momentum. After tracking down the latest owner of Will's old Trans Am, a punk sixteen-year-old without insurance, Vera and Jeffries had wasted no time in having the car towed and sent downstairs for forensics testing.

"Upholstery coulda been shampooed fifty times, we're still gonna know if blood was shed in there," crowed Vera, pride in his old department still burning strong.

"Figure out a Will and Paige connect?" asked Jeffries as Lilly began to circle around the dismantled car.

"She was an athlete at Cresbie, he was a loser at Jefferson. No activities in common," explained Lilly. Paige seems too classy to have gone to someone Will's level, but let's see what the evidence says.

"So, maybe Willy's hanging around the Wawa one night, looking for a party," theorized Scotty.

"Yeah, he's got the car going for him," agreed Vera, studying the fine old machine admiringly.

"Paige needs a ride," suggests Jeffries.

"He's a little mole, doesn't do good with girls, so he makes a play for her," said Scotty, guessing Will had as much social grace then as he did now.

"And she brushes him off, Will breaks her head open," finished Lilly.

As the forensics team finished with the car, a gleeful look came to Vera's eyes as they headed for the lights. "This is the cool part."

"Hit the lights," order Jeffries.

As the forensics team began to spray luminal over the car, both Lilly and Scotty felt their stomachs clench by the sheer amount of blood becoming more evident with each spray.

"He knew her somehow," whispered Lilly.


"You okay there, Scotty? You look at a little green."

Lay off, Lilly. I'm fine. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Hey, if the sight of blood isn't easy for ya, it's fine. We all got our weaknesses, right?"

Scotty shook his head. Way off the mark. "Not that at all."

"What then?"

Scotty sighed, wanting nothing more than to get home and watch The Tonight Show with an ice cold beer. But you ain't gonna leave me alone unless I tell ya something. "I've just been thinking that maybe there is a point to this cold case thing. If Al Clarkson's innocent that means…"

"…that he's been sitting in jail for twenty-two years," Lilly finished, studying Scotty closely. "As much as we like to convince ourselves we're perfect, the department is far from it, Scotty."

"You're tellin' me," Scotty muttered, pulling on his jacket.

"Did you wanna go grab a drink or something?" Lilly asked as she began to zip up her bag. "A congrats sorta thing for getting through your first shift?"

Ha! No way! Or so Scotty tried to tell himself. An attractive woman asking him out for a drink didn't happen that often. But then that would mean work mixing with home and that was always something Scotty had vowed never to do. Going out for a drink with one of the guys was cool; it was different with women. Getting drunk and a few words taken the wrong way could lead to—Scotty wasn't going there.

"Afraid I have plans, Lilly. Thanks anyways."

"It's all good, Scotty. Guess you'll be here bright and early when we go see Harrell?" I think you and me just might start meshing together, after all. If you use your head once in a while, that is.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. I can't wait to nail that creep!" And I can't wait to see the fireworks!


Will Harrell had turned on his heel and walked away when he saw Lilly and Scotty back at the shop, but Lilly and Scotty were undeterred. This bastard wasn't going to get away with murder.

"Found your old Trans Am, Will. Blood, blood, and more blood!" said Lilly as they followed Will towards the back of the shop.

Will turned to face the defectives, a disbelieving smirk crossing his face.

"Wanna see pictures?" offered Scotty, holding up a large, glossy poloroid for Will to view.

Will's smirk faded as he studied the picture. "Okay. Just…here's what happened. I…hit a dog. On the Turnpike."

Lilly and Scotty exchanged contemptuous glances.

"A dog?" asked Scotty, not bothering to disguise his mocking disbelief.

"Yeah…my car, I hadda clean it out after. That's what Ricky must've seen," stammered Will, his pale face draining of all colour.

"You a special kind of stupid, Will?" asked Scotty. You've gotta be the dumbest guy I've met in a long time.

Okay, Scotty, just take it easy. Don't overplay your hand, here.

"I'm not makin' it up!" Will declared. "And the night that girl was murdered, I was at Raiders of the Lost Ark!"

Bullshit.

Scotty shook his head. Yeah, right. "You remember that too now, huh?"

"You guys comin' around made me think of it," explained Will.

An awkward moment passed as Lilly and Scotty continued to study Will with disbelief. Who the hell would remember seeing a movie twenty-two years ago on a certain date? Especially someone who clearly was not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

"Who'd you see it with?" asked Lilly.

"Bennet Cahill, my best friend," Will rattled off instantly as Scotty began writing the name down. "And his girlfriend, Jane. I hadda get in line at noon the day before, but it was all worth it! I still got the ticket stub to prove it!"

"You have the stub from twenty-two years ago?" asked Lilly. Because if you did, that's just convenient as hell.

"Some good luck," admitted Scotty.

"It's my favourite movie!" Will explained. "You keep stuff like that!"

"Will, you do realize that we have the science to tell us the difference between dog and human blood, right?" inquired Lilly, to see if Will was still willing to stick to his story.

"I have the ticket stub!"

"You and Bennett still close?" asked Scotty.

"Bennett's really successful, always was! Class president, went to Princeton. He's a surgeon now!"

You gotta be shitting me! "You're friends with a surgeon?" asked Scotty, biting his lip so he wouldn't collapse and start rolling around on the floor in laughter.

"Old friends," admitted Will.

"Okay, Will. We'll check out that story," said Lilly, motioning to Scotty it was time to leave.

"I have the stub!" Will called after them.


As they waited for Dr. Bennett Cahill to return to his office after checking up on a patient he had operated on the previous night, Lilly found herself playing with a stethoscope sitting idle on Bennett's desk. She and Scotty hadn't said much on the drive over to the hospital; both were still trying to grasp how someone of Will's social standing had been friends with someone who had clearly been one of the most popular students at Cresbie High.

"So, what happened to your old partner?" Scotty asked Lilly as their waiting continued. The question had been nagging at him all day. Despite his earlier misgivings, he was beginning to mellow out about his placement in Homicide, despite the fact Lilly was starting to make it hard for him to focus on his job a lot of the time. Ever since she had cracked a joke at the prison and offered to take him out for a drink Scotty had begun to have less than wholesome thoughts about his new partner.

"He transferred out to HIU."

"Gotta weed out the weak ones," Scotty muttered. Homicide isn't exactly the most exciting place; how'd the hell someone like that handle being on the line before getting his transfer in there?

That hit a nerve. "He needed all day work with his diabetes. He wasn't weak," Lilly protested hotly. Smug know it all.

Shit, that explains it. Scotty felt himself begin to burn and he was relieved when the door to Bennett's office opened.

Though pushing forty, Bennett had aged well; his dark brown hair and chiseled, classic good looks made it easy for Scotty and Lilly to see part of the reason high school had been a social heaven for Bennett. It also made Will's story all the harder to believe.

"Bennett Cahill," said Bennett, brushing off his blue scrubs as he headed for his desk.

"Detectives Rush and Valens, Homicide," said Lilly, flashing her badge.

"What's it about?" asked Bennett, taking a seat and indicating to Scotty and Lilly they should do the same.

"A guy named Will Harrell. You went to high school together," explained Lilly, digging in her shoulder bag.

"I could probably place him," said Bennett, though his eyes showed no glint of recognition.

Opening up the Cresbie High 1981 yearbook, Lilly pointed out Will's picture.

"Oh right, that guy," said Bennett with a snort. "What'd he do?"

"We don't know yet," explained Lilly.

"Will says you and him were best friends," said Scotty, preferring to stand. Height's the best advantage when dealing with people of this guy's arrogance.

"More like acquaintances."

"He says you went with him and your girlfriend to Raiders of the Lost Ark, June 20th, 1981," persisted Lilly. Gotta check out every angle of Will's story.

"I doubt it. I was probably with Jane, but Will…" Bennett trailed off in disbelief.

"Willy the outcast type?" asked Scotty.

"You could say," confirmed Bennett. "But he had this room at his dad's shop. It was a no parent zone, so a lot of us would hang out there, drink beer, whatever."

"How'd he do with the ladies?" asked Scotty. Lemme put a wild guess here that his batting average was zero.

"Don't recall any big scores."

"Did he ever mention a girl named Paige?" asked Lilly, closing the yearbook.

Bennett shook his head. "No. We didn't talk a lot. After he freaked me out one night I stopped going over there."

"What'd he do?" asked Lilly, biting her lip as Scotty loomed behind her.

"He showed me a gun. Called it a "bitch killer."

Scotty and Lilly glanced at one another. This could be the break they needed.

Assuming they had the same contempt for the freak that he did, Bennett continued, "Yeah, that's when I stopped going over there."

"Did Will seem like he could ever get frustrated enough to hurt a girl?" asked Scotty, trying to gauge how much rejection Will could have stood from someone like Paige.

"I don't know," admitted Bennett. "I hope not."


The gears continuing to move fast, the team welcomed a greasy, late night dinner of burgers, fries, and shakes.

"Will was a B-list kid with A-list aspirations," said Lilly, slurping up another sip of strawberry milkshake.

"A hottie like Paige would've blown him off for sure. He meets her, gets the snub, it's the last straw, so he pulls out his bitch killer," Scotty mused aloud.

"His what?" asked Stillman, pulling back his burger.

Shit, I didn't mean to say that bit! "Uh, nothin', Boss," said Scotty, looking down.

Deciding it was best to change the subject, Stillman turned his attentions to Lilly. "Did you ever find Paige's parents?

Lilly shook her head. "Moved to Atlanta in '84. Not returning phone calls." Can't imagine they're happy this is being opened back up. They thought justice was done.

"They already got someone in jail. Why relieve that nightmare?" Scotty pointed out, not blaming Paige's parents one bit.

A guy with sensitivity, who woulda thought it?

Stillman sighed. "The DA's office is going to hate this."

"I know. Kite's already called a hundred times," confirmed Lilly. Why can't these guys around here get a clue I ain't mixing my work and home life beyond a coffee or drink at the bar? Why can't Kite take the hint and bug the boss or Vera more? Vera needs to learn how to do work, anyways.

"Who's Kite?" asked Scotty, adding the name to the growing list in his brain.

"Assistant DA," explained Lilly. "Ivy League jerk."

Studying Lilly's annoyed glance, Scotty sensed there was more to Kite and Lilly's relationship than just a rivalry or mere annoyance. No, Scotty bet it was because Kite just might have a thing for Lilly and, true to guy form, was being persistent. And Scotty wasn't sure he liked that possibility very much.