Paul stood by the door as he watched the forensics team do their work. This was often the hardest part of the job—when you had to stand back and wait, just hoping that you'd find some information that would enable you to do your job. He raised his eyes when the young detective approached him. "Anything?" he asked hopefully.

"I just got a call from the station," he said, shaking his head. He knew his response wasn't what the chief wanted to hear. "The prints on the gun were all partials. They know some were Carl's, but the others are so distorted that we'll have to run them through multiple databases to see if there's any way to search for potential matches and that'll take weeks—best case scenario."

Paul sighed. "What about the sweep? Any more evidence uncovered?"

"Just this." The detective held out a plastic bag containing the pregnancy test.

Paul glanced down at it, the results now fairly faded, but still clear enough to discern.

"Looks like he was telling the truth, huh?" the detective said solemnly, looking up at the Chief for confirmation.

"Yeah it does," Paul agreed, "At least about that." He shook his head. "I don't know. I just can't shake the feeling that something still feels very off about this whole thing. We've got some guys talking to some neighbors, just trying to gauge what the relationship was like. I'm gonna head out and see what they've found. I'll meet you back at the station in a few."

Paul watched as the detective headed outside before heading out the door himself. He met two officers heading back towards the driveway.

"We talked to a couple of the neighbors," the young female officer responded before Paul even had a chance to inquire, "By all accounts they seemed to be a normal, happy couple. No mention of a pregnancy though."

"Yeah—Carl said they hadn't announced anything yet, so that makes sense." Paul paused a moment. "Thanks you guys. If you'll just finish the reports and drop them off on my desk, I'll appreciate it."

He headed back to his car, sitting in the front seat for a moment before starting up. Though he had no real evidence to go on and, in truth, no real reason to be suspicious, everything in him screamed that Carl wasn't what he claimed to be—but without any evidence to back up his gut feeling, continuing the investigation was just going to look like a witch hunt and he couldn't afford that. Today would be a great day to be able to go home and talk to his wife, to get some advice, some perspective, but Christine was anything but objective when it came to matters involving Phyllis. This was something he'd have to work through on his own.


His arm was dead weight and had been for the better part of the last hour, but he hadn't dared move. Phyllis had finally drifted off to sleep and she actually looked at peace. There was nothing he wouldn't suffer to give her that. As if on cue, he felt her stir in his arms, her eyes fluttering open and peering up at him. She quickly jolted into awareness, her eyes darting around the room as she jerked to sit up.

"It's alright," he said quietly, desperately trying to lull her back into the serenity of the last few minutes. "You're okay."

He felt her shoulders drop as the air left her lungs in a deep sigh. "Sorry," she breathed, "For a moment I just didn't…I don't know..I'm a bit of a wreck if you hadn't noticed." She turned to look at him again, a weak smile playing across her face.

"You're far from a wreck," he whispered, welcoming her back into his embrace as she leaned back against him. They sat quietly for a moment as he studied her face. Her eyes had that faraway look, the same look she got when she was thinking about something—something that was either something she knew he wouldn't like, or something she was afraid to share. "What's going on in there?" he asked, lightly stroking her hair.

She looked at him, her eyes already shimmering with tears, "I don't want you to think I don't trust you, or I don't believe you when you say you'll keep me safe."

"But you don't," he said, sadly.

"It's not about that. I believe you'd do everything you could…and that's just it. I don't want you to. You'd be putting yourself in danger and I can't have that. I can't." Phyllis saw the look in his eyes, the hurt. It was almost a rejection for him and she hated feeling as if she was breaking his heart again. She reached for his hands, the feel of his warmth spreading through her. "You don't know him like I do," she whispered, "You don't know what he's like when he feels threatened. He's going to be even more determined now. He knows I'm pregnant and he's going to be worried about what people will think and how it will look. He'll need to make sure I don't talk. I know him, Billy."

"I already told you." His eyes were staring directly into hers and he felt the slight tremble in her touch again, through this time he wasn't sure if it was the fear or the sheer intensity of the moment. "As long as I'm alive, he will never touch you again."

"He can take care of that." Her voice broke as she said the words, the admission of her worst fear proving too powerful for her.

"Don't," he said gently, "Please…listen, we'll go away. We can disappear—go somewhere that no one knows who we are. We can leave the country."

"Billy." It was hard to even fathom his offer, his willingness to leave his entire life behind to keep her safe, especially after the way she'd treated him, but here he was, taking care of her, protecting her, promising her that he'd make everything ok—just as he always had. She shook her head. "I could never ask you to do that. What about your kids? You'd have to leave them. You could never do that."

He closed his eyes. "Yeah, I would, and I'm not gonna lie, that would be hard, but my kids have Victoria and her family and my family. They are surrounded by love. They'll be protected and cared for and as hard as it would be to walk away from them, I know that they'd be okay. Who do you have, Phyllis? Who will take care of you?"

"You love your children, Billy. I know that—I've seen you with them. It's one of the things…" She stopped herself, swallowing hard. "It's one of the things that makes you who you are."

"Yeah, I do…absolutely I do. I love my kids, Phyllis, but I love you too."