A/N: Here's another chapter! Don't hate me you guys! But, I would like to thank Foreveran80'skid for inspiring me to make the story take a dramatic turn, and I'm not talking about the one in this chapter. Stay tuned to find out what I mean.

Phoebe crept out into her living room, to finally see Helga asleep. She sighed a heavy sigh of relief and walked into her small kitchen to get a cup of coffee.

It had been a hectic night for both of them, but Phoebe's night must have been nothing compared to Helga's. She didn't know exactly what had happened, but when she had listened to that voice mail from Arnold, where he told her that Helga's father had suffered a fatal heart attack, her first thought was what was she going to do now? The only reason she ever came back into town was for her father. Now, she had just lost what little family she had left, however distant and pig-headed Bob may have been, Phoebe knew that he was still her father.

She was grateful for Arnold for trying his best to console her. He was the best, but sometimes, the only thing you can do is just be next to them, sometimes there's nothing you can say. He obviously knew that when he called her. He probably knew that Helga would be very uncomfortable staying with him for the night, and she knew Arnold would never take advantage of a situation like the one Helga was now in.

She hasn't said a word to her since she picked her up. She simply ushered her into the passenger seat of her car, then sat her down on her couch. After shaking her head at the offer of tea, or coffee, Phoebe wrapped a blanket around her best friends shoulders and went into her bedroom, after failing to figure out what to do. Once she closed her bedroom door, she could her the broken sobs as clear as day. They lasted well into the night, so seeing Helga resting relatively peacefully made her feel like she had done something right. But there was still a long road ahead.

Phoebe didn't want to imagine what it was like for her when her mother had died of liver failure. Helga had told her in an e-mail that her and her mother were finally friends, that she felt that she actually had a mother who loved her for the first time in her life. But, the reaper swung his sickle anyway, leaving Helga devastated. She had already been through more than someone as talented and headstrong as Helga should have to go through. But what was worse was that she had to go through it alone, not that there was no one there for her, Phoebe had always offered her support, but Helga didn't always take it. It was when times were the hardest that she pushed herself into seclusion.

Phoebe looked upon her friend, whose eyes were still red rimmed, and puffy from heavy crying and drying her eyes roughly. There was a very soft knock on her door, and in the stillness of her apartment, it was too loud. Phoebe set her coffee cup down on the counter and went to answer it. She unlocked the door as quietly as possible and opened the door, to find Arnold standing in the hallway, holding Helga's cat under his arm. "Arnold, what are you doing here?" She asked in a whisper.

"I brought Jeffery over for Helga to try and make her feel better. I had to sneak him out, they had Helga's house taped off."

This news came as a shock to Phoebe, not the fact that Helga's home had been taped off, although that was odd. It was the fact that he was actually holding Jeffery and not getting his face clawed off. "How did you manage to get him? Helga told me that he hates everyone but her."

"I don't know, he trusts me?" He said in an honest shrug. Jeffery had seemed to sense Helga's presence in the next room and began to wiggle under Arnold's arm. He set the cat down, and watched him rush into Phoebe's apartment, and over to the couch that was against the wall. Jeffery didn't waste anytime in jumping up on the couch, and settling himself on the arm rest, just above Helga's head. "How's she doing?"

Phoebe sighed again and pushed him out into the hall way, closing the door behind her. "I honestly don't know. She wouldn't talk to me all night. She just kept staring off into space. I couldn't even get her to change into something to sleep in." Phoebe was beginning to feel the guilt of not being able to help her friend the best she could, but she had to remember who she was dealing with. "Did she say anything to you?"

"The only thing she said to me... was that Bob called her Helga yesterday morning. She said for the first time in twenty years, he actually called her by the right name. I'm worried about her, Phoebe."

"Me too, Arnold. But this is Helga we're dealing with, you know how she is. Times like this, she feels that if she doesn't stand alone, then she won't be able to stand at all. I can't get her to open up to me and I'm her best friend."

"Helga's just a strong personality."

"Arnold, why was her house taped off?"

Arnold let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "You can't tell Helga any of this." Phoebe nodded sharply. "I asked my captain this morning, and he said that they haven't ruled out foul play. They said their waiting on the autopsy report to come back with a tox-screen."

"Wait, they actually think that she killed her father?" At this point, Phoebe was already fuming.

"Phoebe, you know how these homicide detectives work. They work on statistics, and right now, statistically speaking, Helga's the prime suspect."

"Helga didn't kill her father!" She spat.

"Phoebe, I was with her when she found the body. I know she didn't kill her father, she was with me all day."

"I swear, the last thing she needs right now is to have a bunch of homicide detective desk monkeys accusing her of murder."

"That's not going to happen, Phoebe. I'm going to try and use my reputation to put in a good word for her. In the mean time, I think it's best if she stay with one of the best lawyers out of the DA's office." Arnold said with a raised brow. Phoebe nodded again, now very determined to protect her. "I have to get back to work, call me if she needs anything." Within moments, Arnold was down the hall and around the corner out of sight.

Now very enraged at the very idea that Helga was being thought of as a murderer, Phoebe tried her best not to slam the door shut as she returned inside. She swung the door open and was about to slam in, letting her anger get the best of her, until she saw Jeffery's wide eye stare from his place on the arm rest, and saw Helga still sleeping soundly. Letting out a calming breath, she slowly shut the door, and locked it behind her.

She walked back into her kitchen and grabbed her coffee cup and took a sip, leaning against the stove and watching as her friend slept, with her faithful companion purring while he snuggled himself tighter against her head. The news that police might rule Bob's death a murder would be overwhelming to Helga, and she knew it. But she had to tell her. And with Helga's home now an active crime scene, she couldn't go home. Arnold was right, if anyone was going to accuse Helga Pataki of murder, it would be over her dead body.

After ten silent minutes, Helga began to stir. And eventually, her eyes fluttered open, and she was pushing herself upright on the couch, while Jeffery jumped from the arm rest and into her lap. Helga reached for the ceiling to stretch, still looking very tired, and in need of a hot shower, with her hair frizzy and unkempt. "Phoebe?" Phoebe smiled, and grabbed the other cup of coffee she had just poured, and went over to the couch, watching Jeffery's eyes get wide while his ears went back, and started to growl. "Oh, stop it!" Helga ordered him while she pulled him into his side, keeping him in place by a hand stroking his back.

Phoebe sat on the other side of her, and handed her the cup of coffee. "How are you feeling?"

Helga took a sip and then fell back against the couch. "I can't believe he's dead." Jeffery started to purr again, and placed his paw up on Helga's thigh. "Did you bring him here?"

"No, actually Arnold did. He stopped by about ten minutes ago and dropped him off. He ran right to you and started sleeping against your head."

"Arnold was here?" Helga asked, seeming a little flustered by the news.

"Yeah, he brought him over to try and make you feel better." Helga smiled sadly and looked down at her cat, and started to play with his ears. Deciding to try and talk about something that would bring a real smile onto her face, Phoebe began, "So, what is it with you two?"

"Who, me and Arnold?" Phoebe nodded with a grin. "All I can say is it's complicated. I mean, we went to dinner, and that went well, then we kissed, and that went very well, then we met for a cup of coffee and kissed again, which also went very well, then we walked to the movie theater and talked... and kissed again, which also went very well, then we saw a cheesy horror movie and we drove back to my house and he met Jeffery, and that went surprisingly well. We just seem to be in this phase where we don't know what we are to each other."

"You'll figure it out, Helga. I mean, not everyone would sneak onto an active crime scene just to get you your cat for you." Phoebe's words now registered in her mind as she said them, and she already regretted opening her big mouth.

"Active crime scene?! What the hell are you talking about?"

Phoebe let out a sharp sigh, and tried to explain. "They're still waiting on the autopsy to see how Bob died. Arnold told me that they haven't ruled out foul play."

"So they think that I killed my own father!" Helga stood up, and put on a look of angry astonishment.

"Helga, no one is going to accuse you of murder if I have anything to do about it." She quickly got to her feet and braced her hands against Helga's arms. "I'm appointing myself your attorney."

Helga fell back on to the couch and placed her face in her hands, and groaned. "What happened to my life? Yesterday my biggest worry was when I'd get to kiss Arnold again, now my dad's dead, and I'm being accused of murder?! Why can't I go back to yesterday, when Arnold and I were on the sidewalk and he pulls me in and kisses me out of nowhere? I just want to go back to then..." Phoebe watched once again as her friends back started to jump is silent sobs. She wrapped her arm around her shoulder and tried to sooth her again.

"Arnold's going to try and use his reputation to get you off the suspect list. And we don't even know what the autopsy will say. Most likely, you're father died from another heart attack that you couldn't have prevented even if you had been there. But, in the ludicrous possibility that something does show up in the tox screen, and police start asking you questions, I want you to call me. These homicide detective will ask you self incriminating questions on purpose to make you seem like a killer. And if you don't have proper council, they could charge you, and I'm not going to let that happen."

"What am I suppose to do?"

"You're going to stay here. Go to work, go about your normal routine as best you can so you don't give them a reason to suspect you have anything to hide. Most likely, some police will come up to you even before the autopsy report gets back, and start asking you about your relationship with Bob, but just remember, and I can't stress this enough, you have the right to remain silent. So the first thing I want you to do is tell them to talk to your lawyer... me."

Helga let out a breath as she climbed out of her car. Her heart felt heavy, and she was tired. She didn't get a very restful sleep at all, especially considering she slept in yesterday's clothes, which she was still wearing. Luckily she had a change of clothes in her locker.

On Phoebe's orders, she decided to go into work as usual. Phoebe let her use her shower, and although her hair products weren't the same ones that she used, it felt good to simply stand there under the hot water, letting it unclench and relax her muscles that were still store from sobbing all night. She still hadn't fully wrapped her head around the fact that her father could have actually been murdered, worse yet, that police think that she did it. True, her relationship with her father may have been strained at best, but he was still her father. What motive would she have to kill her own father?

She braced herself before she walked in through the doors of the department store. She felt a wave of relief when no one looked upon her with pity. Since they didn't even seem to notice her, as usual, she made her way to the back and opened her locker. She grabbed the green polo shirt and jeans that were in her locker, and changed. She threw her fleece into her locker, along with t-shirt from yesterday, and went back onto the floor to get to work.

"Helga!" One of her co-workers was calling from the front desk. She looked over and groaned, why can't I just be left alone?

She started walking toward the front desk, until she saw two uniformed officers come into view. Her muscles locked up when they both sent a glare her way, and made their way around the front desk, and started walking toward her, with one having their hand resting on his gun in his holster. "Helga Pataki..."

"Yes?" She nervously asked.

"Turn around..."

The doors to the elevator chimed open and Arnold shoved off the wall, and walked into the bullpen.

It was early in the afternoon when he finally managed to return to work, after dropping his name to the officer posted outside Helga's home, he finally got in, and managed to sneak her cat out, knowing that Jeffery was the only one with the ability to console her. The autopsy should be in by now, and he would probably have to drop his name again to get a peek at it. He just hoped that Bob's death was really natural causes. Helga didn't need to go through being a prime suspect of a murder investigation. Because he knew that suspects were always treated like they were guilty until proven innocent.

He had a few phone calls to make to make sure that Helga was being abused by overzealous homicide detectives. He knew all too well how they worked, and he had to make sure that they treated her with respect. Once he had gotten to his desk and sat down, the captain was calling him into his office. "Shortman!" Arnold looked over and he was being waved in. Arnold groaned silently and stood up.

"Yes, sir?"

"This came for you this morning." His captain handed him a tan folder. Arnold took it from him and opened it, quickly scanning the report to look at cause of death.

"This can't be right." Arnold said to his captain, as he reread the report again.

"I don't know what to tell you, Shortman. Those are the facts."

"It's a mistake!"

"The M.E. did blood work twice, it's no mistake. Bob Pataki died of cyanide poisoning."