Trucy peered out of the window of the taxi. "Where are we going?" she asked. "I'm pretty sure Terry's apartment was the exit back there."

"Change of plans," Apollo replied. He posture was incredibly tense, arms crossed over his chest and leg bouncing. "You remember what Tache said? The murder was caught on camera, and Terry is in it. She apparently didn't tell us everything."

"Seems a little too convenient," Trucy pointed out. "The greenbelt is a big place. There happened to be a deer cam at that exact spot pointed right at the murderer?"

"I think it's a little odd too," Apollo agreed. "But it's what we've got now. No wonder Klavier seemed so pleased with himself." Trucy shrugged. "It's all right, Polly," she reassured. "We got this." Suddenly the cab stopped. The detention center could be seen outside the window. Apollo heard the sound of a car door opening and turned to look. The seat beside him was empty. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and fished out his wallet.

A police officer raised his arm in a half-assed wave as Apollo and Trucy walked in. "Here for the Marine, Mr. Justice?"

"Yup," Apollo replied. The officer raised his radio to his mouth and murmured a few words into it. Then, he nodded towards the corridor that was peppered with doors. "Third one on the right," he said. "Go on ahead. She should be there in a moment."

Apollo nodded. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem, Mr. Justice," the officer said boredly before turning back to his computer.

As the two made their way down the corridor, Trucy reached over and poked Apollo in the arm. "Hey, what about the address Dad gave us? Are we going there too?"

Apollo scratched the side of his neck nervously. "Maybe if we have the time. The trial's the day after tomorrow, after all."

"The trial… that's right," Trucy said as they stopped in front of their designated door. "Speaking of which, isn't Terry's sister coming over for the trial? We're going to have to tell Terry about that, too." Apollo gulped. 'There's going to be a thick layer of safety glass between us, but I'm still not looking forward to it,' he thought. Trucy placed her hand on the doorknob. "Shall we?"

With a sigh, Apollo motioned for her to go ahead. "Yeah, let's talk."

They walked through the door. Terry was already there behind the glass, her arms crossed and her eyes trained on them. "You rang?" she said as they sat down across from her.

Apollo hesitated, trying to search for how to word his questions. Trucy suddenly spoke up.

"Terry, have you been telling us the complete truth?" The marine's face tensed. She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward on the desk.

"You don't think so?" she asked, her voice steely. Trucy shifted in her seat. "Well—."

"What is this?" Terry interrupted, alternating her gaze between the two. "Are you trying to get a confession out of me? What the fuck, I thought you were trying to help me!"

Trucy jumped. "No, it's not like that! We… something's come up."

"Something?" Terry repeated. "What something?"

"A video," Apollo stated. "A video of the murder. Apparently, you're in it." Terry glared at him, but seemed lost for words. She shook her head and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair.

"What is going on?" she whispered, seemingly to herself. Then, louder, she asked, "and have you seen this video?"

"Not yet," Apollo admitted. "But I plan on doing so this afternoon if there's time."

"Has anyone else seen it?" Terry asked, opening her eyes.

Apollo paused to think. "I think Prosecutor Gavin has. And so has Detective Tache. Other than that, I don't know."

"Tache…?" Terry said quietly. "I've heard of that name before." Her eyes grew distant. After a few seconds, she shook herself back to reality. She crossed her arms over her chest again. "If you have questions, you'll ask them," she said, resuming her stern voice.

'Okay, well I have three points we need to cover,' Apollo assessed. 'The video, Daina, and Terry herself. It might help if I learn about my client. Hmm… I better start with the easiest question first.'

"So you're a marine?" Apollo began. "For how long?"

"Joined when I was 21," Terry answered. "So if you do the math, I've been serving for 11 years. A long fuckin' time."

"I see. So… er, what's it… you know… like?"

Terry's expression didn't change. She had obviously been asked this question many times. "It's something that, no matter how many times you explain, no matter how many videos you see, people don't truly get. It's like trying to describe an object to a blind person. You can talk and talk, but will they be able to understand it like you do? Hell no. You have to live it to know what it's like. I can tell you this, though: "normal" life isn't the same anymore. People treat you weird. Once they catch scent that you're in the military, out pops the 'thank you for your service.' Nah." Terry scoffed. "Don't thank me. You don't know what I do.

"As for what it's like abroad, well… Yeah, I've been through my fair share of firefights. It's… I'm not going to go much into detail. It's an 'us vs. them' mentality that keeps us going, you know? I don't have any regrets. You find it easy to shoot back at the ones who are trying to kill your friends."

"Oh," Apollo said softly. "That must've been something."

"Yeah. No shit," Terry retorted. "Next question." It was clear she didn't want them to dwell on the subject. Seeing how it was making Terry quite cranky, Apollo was more than happy to oblige.

"That's fine with me. I really need to ask you about the video," he said.

Terry tilted her head, resting a fist against her temple. "Why? I know less about it than you do."

"Well I just don't know how it's possible, if what you said about being at home is true."

Terry's face darkened. "It is," she insisted. "Listen, I'm not sure how it's possible either. Maybe you should see the video first before you start sputtering nonsense about it."

'Well, there goes that,' Apollo thought with a mental sigh. 'Well, one last question.'

"So… I spoke to your sister yesterday…" he began cautiously. All of a sudden, something shocking happened. Terry… smiled!

But it wasn't a kind smile. It was almost a smirk. "She didn't listen, did she?"

"Uh… yeah."

"I know what you're thinking," Terry said. "And don't worry. I knew this was going to happen. You had a tenth of a percent chance of convincing her to stay put. Daina's stubborn as hell. Still, I appreciate the effort." She shrugged. "Is that all you got, Lawyer? It better be."

"What do you mean?"

"You're heading down to the CA to check the tape, right? If I had to guess, visitors won't be allowed after 5." She tapped the back of her wrist as if there was a watch. "It's 1630. 4:30. You better haul ass."

Apollo's eyes flickered over to the analog clock on the wall. "Ack! You're right! Thanks, Terry!" He quickly stood up and was about to head for the door when suddenly Trucy grabbed his arm.

"Hold on for a sec!" she said, reaching over and pulling a small slip of paper from Apollo's pocket. "Can we ask you one last little thing?" She unfolded the paper. "Have you heard of this address? 44308 23rd Street, and uh…" she held the paper closer as she spotted a small name written at the bottom of the paper. "The Confluence."

"Can't say that I have," Terry replied, adjusting her dog tag. "If it's on 23rd Street, then… Shit, it's been a while since I've been back… then it sounds like an apartment complex. Odd name for one, though."

"All right. See you, Terry. Trucy, come on! Let's go!" Apollo urged. "If we miss Tache, the dog's staying at your place tonight!"

"Detective Tache?" the receptionist said. "Okay, hold on a minute." The woman picked up a black telephone off its hook and punched in a few numbers. She held the phone between her ear and shoulder as she resumed typing on her computer. After a few seconds, she spoke. "Detective, you have two visitors. Yes… Okay, good bye." She hung up and quickly glanced up at them.

"He's coming down to get you two. The elevators don't work without keycards," she explained briskly as she continued typing. "You're welcome to wait in the lobby."

By "lobby," the receptionist meant the few measly chairs flanked by potted plants by the entrance. To top it off, they were the same shade of blue as that creepy badger.

Apollo sat down in one of the seats and watched as people were leaving the building. Of course. It was 15 minutes until the end of normal shifts. He was a little embarrassed about reaching out to Tache at such a time.

"Hey, I've been thinking," Trucy started. Apollo glanced at her. "You know how that video shows the murder? I think it's better if you watch it. I don't think I want to see it."

"That's probably for the best," Apollo replied. Motion caught his eye and he turned to see Ethan Tache walking towards them. "Good afternoon!" he said, motioning them over. "You couldn't have picked a better time to come!"

Apollo flinched. "Right, sorry about that," he said meekly. "We lost track of time back at the detention center."

"I'm sure the marine is very interesting to talk to," Ethan replied. They stepped into the elevator. Ethan swiped his ID card over the scanner and pressed '4.' The elevator beeped monotonously as it climbed the floors. "Personally, I've never spoken to her. She's only recently returned from deployment." The elevator dinged loudly as the doors slid open. Apollo was about to step off when he noticed that someone was standing in the way.

"Herr Forehead?" Klavier perplexed. "What are you—?" He spotted Ethan, and immediately his face turned somber. "Tache," he greeted in a low voice, his demeanor suddenly cold.

In contrast, Ethan spread his arms wide in a friendly manner, a huge grin on his face. "Ah, there you are! How are you, mon chéri? Do you have something for me?" Klavier stepped aside as the three exited the elevator.

"Here," Klavier mumbled dully, holding out a folder. "I was going to leave it on your desk."

"But the door was locked, wasn't it," Ethan said, nabbing the folder. "My office is my fort, you know. No whiny babies allowed." Klavier glowered at him as he entered the elevator. "Whatever," he muttered as the doors closed.

Apollo turned to Ethan. "He doesn't seem to like you very much," he noted. "I've never seen him so sour before." 'Well, except for those times I whooped his butt in court.'

Ethan laughed heartily. "I know. Isn't it fun?" he chuckled, opening the folder an inch to quickly inspect its contents. Apollo and Trucy exchanged odd looks.

"Er… why is that?" Trucy asked as Ethan closed the folder and continued to lead them down the hall.

"The little rock star and I have a rivalry between us. Well, he thinks it's a rivalry. I think it's hilarious. I guess he can't stand being in second place in terms of looks and musical talent. He hates me, and I like to act endearing towards him; it really grinds his gears," Ethan explained as they passed numerous cubicles, conference rooms, and employee lounges.

"Oh, so you're in a band, too?" Trucy piped up. Ethan gave her a quizzical look.

"Now what gave you that impression, Mademoiselle? Do I look like some pompous weirdo to you? Non. For me, music is a form of relaxation. And besides…" He stopped at a closed door that held a card slider and a keypad. The detective swiped his ID and punched in a few digits. The door let out a loud click. "… Any silly old sot can strum those strings. It takes a real man to caress the ivory keys." Ethan swung open the door, and the first thing they could see was a vertical piano sitting against the opposite wall. Inside, the office was spacious. The upper edges of room, where the walls met the ceiling, were adorned with white LED Christmas lights. They were the only source of light in the dim room. On the right-hand wall, hanging over a plush pleather sofa, was a large French flag. Other sections of the wall held neat collages of photographs. Most of them, from what Apollo could see, showed Ethan at various ages with a younger girl who shared his same bronze hair. To the left was a large desk that held a dual-monitor computer set up, a large speaker with a phone dock, and a glass display that held various bullet shell casings.

Apollo glanced around. "This is a… uh…very interesting office."

"J'avoue?" Ethan laughed sheepishly. "Looks totally unprofessional, but it's comfy. Still, most detectives don't even get their own office. But my boss decided to agree to my request for one, especially since I actually do my work instead of browsing Reddit like most of my colleagues. But enough sightseeing; back to business!"

He walked over to the desk and tapped on the spacebar, waking the computer up. "You're here to see the video, yes?"

Addendum: Ethan and Klavier. Caaaan you feel the haaaate tonight?

Also, according to Ethan's description, I would fit in with his colleagues perfectly.