"What do you mean, she's lying?" Steve took a step closer to the desk as Mike continued to stare at him, a slight though mirthless smile playing over his lips.

"You heard her."

"Yeah, I heard her say John Beaton put duct tape over Donny Tyler's mouth, wrap him in a carpet and leave him to die in a bedroom closet."

"That's not what I mean. She said, She told me about it. The heart problem. Kate Beaton told her about it."

"Yeah, so?" Steve dropped down onto the chair that Alvarez had vacated, his face a question.

"Would you disclose your personal medical information to someone who's your… romantic rival?" Mike asked quietly.

Steve froze, his eyes narrowing, and he slowly sat back. "Son of a bitch. She's not John Beaton's lover, she's Kate's," he said haltingly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Continuing to smile slightly, Mike nodded. "I have a feeling she might have started out as his lover, but became hers."

Steve shook his head. "Man, she is good," he intoned with an almost reverential admiration. "So, what, you think maybe she accidentally killed Donny, in much the same way she described John doing it, and is making John the scapegoat?"

"That's my guess."

Melancholia filled the air between them, both men staring into nothingness. Eventually Steve lifted his head slightly. "So, I guess this means Donny really is dead… like you said he would be…"

"I would have given anything to have been wrong…"

"I know…"

Mike closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. Another silence lengthened then Steve exhaled loudly. "So, what do you want to do next?" he asked quietly.

Mike opened his eyes and stared at his young friend, grateful for the understanding, and for being brought back to their current reality. "I want you to find out who Kate Beaton's doctor is and confirm what Alvarez said. If he says she knew about this… heart problem already, then I want all three of them back in here tomorrow morning." He paused then sighed. "I don't know about you but I've had enough for one day. I don't know how much more I can take right now."

Steve smiled warmly. "Yeah, I hear ya. Look, ah, let me find out about that doctor and then I'll take you out to dinner, and we'll talk about baseball or football or… I don't know… basketball? My treat."

As tired as he was, Mike grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Steve got up and took the couple of steps to the door. "You know," he said thoughtfully, turning back towards the older man, "I missed that - what she said? I missed it - completely." He grinned and shook his head.

Mike raised his eyebrows and shrugged dismissively. "Luck. I almost missed it too. Go find that doctor."

With a gentle chuckle, slapping the doorframe a couple of times as he exited the room, Steve crossed to his desk, glancing back in time to see the smile disappear from his partner's face, replaced by a deep sadness.

# # # # #

Catherine Beaton and Eugenia Alvarez were sitting abreast of each other on the far side of the large wooden table when Mike and Steve eventually entered the interrogation room. The women had been sitting in silence for over twenty minutes, closely watched by Homicide sergeants Haseejian and Healey on the other side of the glass. They hadn't even looked at each other.

Mike, already wearing his reading glasses, sat first, tossing a file onto the desk, not looking up at the tight-lipped pair. Steve's stare went back and forth between them as he sat, his barely contained anger blatantly evident.

"Mrs. Beaton," Mike began without preamble, lifting the top sheet of the folder and reading from the page below, "according to your GP, a Doctor Mark Howard, you've known about your… mitro valve prolapse heart problem for over two years." He let the sheet drop as he looked over the top of his glasses straight into her eyes. "So how can you possibly tell us with a straight face that when you collapsed at Golden Gate Park and were taken to the hospital that this diagnosis came as a surprise?"

She was staring into his cold blue eyes without blinking, then dropped her gaze and swallowed heavily.

"Am I right?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then opened them quickly and looked back up. "Yes… you're right, I did know," she spat out.

"So your little… swoon at Golden Gate Park, that was just, what? Performance art?" Steve asked flatly.

Catherine's pale blue eyes swung in his direction, almost blazing. Their stares locked for several seconds, then she blinked and looked down again.

"When did you two become lovers?" Mike asked suddenly, and both pair of female eyes snapped to his haunted and unforgiving features. Both officers saw the brief flash of guilt that washed over their faces.

"We're not –" Catherine began.

"You told her about your heart problems, didn't you?" Mike cut her off sharply, taking off his glasses and tossing them on the table. "Why would you tell your husband's lover about something so personal?"

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. Mike met her gaze evenly and when she finally broke it, looking down, he turned towards the heretofore silent Alvarez.

"You lied to us yesterday," he told her simply. "It sounded good, too good really. You had your story down pat, didn't you? John didn't like Donny –" Catherine turned to Alvarez sharply, frowning. "- was ashamed to take him to the Beaton family reunion, so he wrapped him up in a carpet and left him in the closet to die. A neat little story that, well, has some truth in it." He paused and leaned back, folding his arms. "But not the entire truth, is it?"

Catherine had continued to stare at Alvarez's profile, anger burning in her eyes. Alvarez was looking at the table. Mike and Steve exchanged a brief glance.

Mike allowed the silence to lengthen then turned his head slightly in his partner's direction. "Steve, could you please take Mrs. Beaton from the room?"

As the younger man began to stand, Catherine's face swung towards Mike. "No, I want to stay. I'll tell you the truth if she won't," she pleaded urgently, "I'll tell you what happened. The truth, I swear!"

Mike stared at her, then got up and moved to the door. As he opened it, he called out, "Sergeant Haseejian, could you please take Mrs. Alvarez back to the cells?" He stood at the door while Haseejian and Healey entered the room, pulled Alvarez to her feet and escorted her from the room. Then he closed the door and sat again, leaning across the table towards Catherine Beaton, who was staring at her clasped hands in her lap.

"What happened?" Mike asked quietly, his voice cold and threatening.

She blinked quickly several times and looked up from under a lowered brow. "You were right about Rosie and me being lovers. I'm not proud of that, but it's the truth… I never meant for it to happen, neither of us did… It just… happened." She paused and swallowed, biting her lip. "She's lying about John. He loved Donny, he really did. We both did. He was a lot of work, but he was always happy and smiling. Our other kids loved him too."

She squeezed her eyes shut and tears began to bead on the lashes. "Rosie hated him. I don't know why, exactly… maybe she thought he was taking too much of our time and energy… I don't know." She took a deep unsteady breath. "The day before the reunion, we were at home – John was working for a few hours unloading a truck for a few bucks. All the kids except Donny were with my neighbors, playing with their kids.

"Rosie wanted to make love. Whenever she wanted to do it, we did it… I didn't have much choice, you know… She's, um, she has very… intense needs and, ah, she's a lot stronger than I am…" She paused and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Donny was fussing. He had a bit of a cold and he was a little cranky and I couldn't get him to calm down and be quiet. And the more he fussed, the angrier she got."

Catherine stopped talking and licked her lips. Steve got to his feet and crossed to the small table in the corner of the room; he poured a glass of water and brought it back to the table. She shot him a grateful look as he handed her the glass and she took a sip.

"We were in the master bedroom, Donny was in his room. I had a big playpen I would put him in sometimes if I was alone and had to get things done without him following me around all the time. She got up and told me to stay where I was, that she would look after Donny."

"You weren't afraid that she'd do something to him?" Mike asked gently.

She shook her head rapidly, blinking quickly again. "No… no, I really didn't. I heard him crying as she left the room, and then he went quiet. She came back about ten minutes later and she told me she had just sat with him until he calmed down and went to sleep… I had no reason not to believe her."

"John came home about two hours later… we were still in the bedroom." She hesitated, looking up at the two cops. "He knew… he knew about us. He didn't like it but he knew. And we tried to be, ah, discreet I guess you could call it, and not do it when he was there." She took another sip of water and looked down.

"John came home and asked why it was so quiet. I told him the kids were at the neighbors and Donny was in his room sleeping. He went up to Donny's room and yelled down that he wasn't there… I asked Rosie where he was and she wouldn't tell me… I, ah, I told John what happened and he screamed at her, he demanded to know where Donny was. And, ah, and she told him…"

Tears had started to trickle down her cheeks and she ineffectively tried to wipe them away. "She had found some tape that John had lying around and she'd put it over his mouth and then wrapped him up in a small carpet and put him in the closet… When John got to him and opened the carpet, he, ah, he was cold and he was blue and stiff…"

She started to sob, shaking. Mike took the white handkerchief from his pocket and slid it across the table towards her.

"We, ah, John didn't know what to do. It was an accident, Rose kept saying, an accident, she didn't mean for him to die. John was crying and holding Donny and he didn't know what to do. She said we'd all be in trouble for it, we would all be charged with murder and that John had to do something with the body to make sure that didn't happen."

She stopped again and closed her eyes. After a few long seconds, Mike reached across the table and laid a hand gently on her forearm. "What did he do?" he asked softly.

She inhaled deeply and raggedly. "He waited till around midnight, then he put the carpet in the trunk of the car. He drove over to Marin County somewhere and he left it there. I don't know where, I swear I don't. You'll have to ask John."

She dropped her head, the tears coming faster now. Mike removed his hand and stood slowly, crossing to the door and opening it. "Inspector Tanner," he called out, and the tall black police officer crossed the bullpen. "I want you to book Mrs. Beaton for accessory after the fact and obstruction of justice, with other charges pending."

She sobbed loudly as Tanner crossed to the far side of the table and pulled her to her feet, but she offered no resistance as he led her across the bullpen and out the door.

Steve, who had stood, looked to his partner. Mike watched as Catherine was led away then started across the tile floor towards the interrogation room on the other side of the office, Steve on his heels. John Beaton was sitting on a hard metal chair on the far side of the wooden table. He had been alone in there for over an hour.

Without hesitation, Mike threw open the door, crossed towards Beaton and, in one vicious move, grabbed the younger man by the front of his shirt, yanked him to his feet and slammed him against the wall, the metal chair clanging to the floor. In the blink of an eye, Mike's hand travelled from Beaton's shirt to around his throat as he pinned the now terrified man to the wall.

"Where is he?" Mike hissed, his entire body shaking.

"Mike!" Steve yelled as he took a step towards his partner but the older man held up his free hand and he stopped in his tracks.

All movement in the Homicide office ceased, as every eye in the place turned towards the small interrogation room. No one breathed.

"Where is he?!" Mike hissed again and Steve watched as his fingers tightened around Beaton's throat.