Taking time to read any fanfiction is a personal choice. To those readers who continue to read and follow each chapter in this story, I can't say it enough - Thank You.

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Trigger Warnings:

All wordsmithing errors are mine alone — notes at the end.

Chapter Title Suspicion

Quinn Found Her Glasses

Quinn waited at the roadside diner a mile or so from the KEI plant for Mercedes. Reading the menu, the waitress had placed in front of her. Pointing out today's specials, Open-faced roast -beef with mash potatoes, gravy, and a side dish. The healthier fair was a smoked turkey focaccia sandwich, with bacon. The bacon did her in, mumbling 'forgive me Rachel, Puck, and Beth, but mama hasn't had bacon in two months.' Reminding herself that the turkey bacon in Florida didn't count as bacon. She ordered two one with a fruit cup her and another with a side of cheesy tater tots for Mercedes. Checking her phone for messages, which were few, people didn't seem to want to buy a new home at Christmas, she heard a poof as Mercedes sat down in the booth seat across the table from her.

"Hey, sorry, I'm late." Sliding her scarf from around her neck, then wiggling out of her winter coat, "They announced Trent would be temporary Plant Manager until they found a replacement. So I stopped by to congratulate him, only to find him dumping his work on Brittany. Then Mike showed up, we all started talkin' well I lost track of time."

"No problem, I ordered for both of us, hope that was OK?"

"God Bless you, that means it healthy." Mercedes replied. "That would be healthy with a side of tots." She smiled

"The sandwich has bacon, so that makes it double healthy for you." Quinn answered with a wink, "So Trent gets Dave's job, how did that go over?"

"Us office folks, don't care. It's more what the plant folks think. New boss an all." Their waitress, placed their sandwiches in front of them, mixing up who got the fruit and who got the tots.

"How was the Winter Holiday party?" Quinn asked as she picked at the fruit bowl. "Did Paul or Santana show?"

Mercedes opened up her sandwich, smearing honey mustard to one side of the bread, "Paul did, at least the meal and long enough to acknowledge the retirees, I don't think he stayed for the dance." Returning the slice, patting it down, picking it up in her hands, "Santana was a no show. Otherwise, it was a pretty subdued affair."

"Has Paul went back to the office?" Quinn asked as she spread out the mustard sauce on her bread.

"No, he's not expected back until after New Year's. Can you blame him?"

"No, I can't. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose Beth, and I'm not even raising her." Taking a drink of her water, wiping her mouth with her napkin, "Speaking of which I mentioned to Santana that Shelby would let Beth come back if we'd pay for airfare. Which is all fine and good, but we couldn't find a cheap flight. I know we weren't thinking, its Christmas."

"Girl! Tina and I bought our tickets six months ago. You could try Christmas day, I did that once, last minute. The plane was practically empty."

"That would defeat the purpose of having her Christmas eve when my family celebrates. Frannie and her family are coming this year. Mom is in a panic. Anyway, Santana has decided she needs to be in New York for shopping, so she'll bring Beth back with her on the jet. Then take her back the following week for return shopping."

Mercedes let out a laugh, "Now that sounds like Santana, the old Santana."

"Well there are some restrictions, Shelby wants door-to-door service, Santana actually has to pick her up at Shelby's then drop her off at my place. I guess Shelby isn't a big fan of Santana's."

"Doesn't trust her or what?"

"More like Beth has a little hero worship of Santana. I think Shelby gets tired of Santana did this, or her clothes are designer, or we went out to her home to swim or ride horses when Beth gets back home."

"Fangirling, I get it." Mercedes laughed "So have you talked to San? I mean getting beyond the 'I'm fine' conversation?"

Quinn shook her head. "Uh, I know that Castle Nursery finished the Christmas decorations. The tree is up. She took the kids to the mall to see Santa. Elle cried. Zee wants a dinosaur that eats race cars."

Mercedes laughed "That has to be Mike or Brittany. They both have toy dinosaurs on their work desks." Quinn gave Mercedes a curious look, "Folks nest. One woman has 'Hello Kitty,' another guy has John Deere tractors lining up the top of his cube. Mostly family photos. As long as it doesn't cause HR or facilities grief, KEI is pretty cool about it."

"You know I've never been beyond reception, it must be a different world behind the security doors."

"Oh, it is. And next time you're at corporate, I'll sign you in as a guest for a little tour. Nothing else from Santana?"

"Uh… no, not really. She's acting perfectly normal. I can understand on some level, San not going to the company party. Though I'd at least think she'd gone to support Paul."

"She probably doesn't see herself as part of the company anymore. Or she didn't want to enjoy herself in front of Paul. Even April was out of character that night, as in sober for her."

Quinn moved her fork over the fruit cup, finally stabbing a green grape "I spoke to Sheldon, he said Stoner Brett knew something about the vandalism to San's car."

"Wait, you think Brett had something to do with this?"

"Remember when Brett hit Aprils car? Santana and Zee were with her. It sent all three to the hospital. Marley had floated down to ER to work that day. She said something about Dave punching Brett in the waiting area."

"Vaguely. But I can't see Brett as vengeful. And if he was, he'd seed their front lawn with marijuana plants forgetting that they'd be mowed down. I mean, the guy is just that stupid."

"I'm not so sure. Who's to say Brett wouldn't do something for some extra cash? To him, it's just another prank, like graffiti."

"Let me get this straight. So, you think Stoner Brett is behind the car and the photos and the shooting? Cos, I don't think he could accidentally shoot himself in the foot much less aim a gun at somebody."

"Yeah, I know. That's where my theory falls apart."

The Hoodie

Santana sat in the exam room, Elle, on her lap. Zee on the chair next to her rolling his toy car around the small desk Matt used to make patient notes. She'd used Elle's sniffles as a pretext to make the appointment when, in reality, it was for her. A tap at the door, then Matt walked in.

"Sorry, the Giardi triplets always take more time."

"Is that what that noise was? Zee's last birthday party wasn't that loud."

Matt chuckled "They're a rambunctious set, I'll give them that." Sitting down on the stool, rolling it closer to Santana, "So what are you here for? Elle has the sniffles?" checking the paperwork for the result of the necessary exam the nurse had performed earlier. "Her temp is normal." He said as he reached over to touch her forehead. "She's not warm and no nasal discharge. Her eyes are clear." Setting the file on the table, He checked her chest with his stethoscope, taking them out of his ears, wrapping the device around his neck. "Elle's not sick, is she? That's not why you're here?"

Santana moved her eyes down to look away from the pediatrician, "Uh… No. More changes in behavior."

Matt stood, "That's to be expected." Opening the door, he called out to someone in the hall who entered the room "Patti, can you take Zee to the play area? Keep an eye on him?"

Patti held out her hand toward Zee. "Come on, Zee, let's go play together. Do you like dinosaurs? I know we have dinosaurs. Might see Batman too."

Zee's eyes lit up, only to change to doubt as he looked at his mama, "It's OK, mijo, I won't be too long." Followed by a gentle touch to even out the part in his hair. Both watched as Zee took the nurse's hand, looking back at his mama for reassurance as he left the room.

Matt returned to the stool, reaching out to take Elle in his lap. The baby went to him, grabbing at the soft toy reindeer he had attached to his white coat. "So, what's going on?"

"Uh… Zee, he's wetting the bed. Thinks a wolf is living under it. He won't sleep in his room. Dottie and I found him in Dave's walk-in closet, surrounded by clothes he was able to pull off the hangers, playing. Elle is clingy and fussy. She only seems to stop when I hold her." As if on cue, Elle reached out for her mama. Santana taking her back on her lap. "I had on one of Dave's old hoodies. Honestly, I don't know why I put it on, but both just went ballistic. I mean, Elle quit breathing. She was crying so hard. Zee just grabbed at the shirt, screaming."

"And what did you do?" he asked as he reached for a pen in his coat pocket to take notes.

"I picked Elle up, she started to calm down. Got Zee over to the couch and sat with him."

"Did they do anything else?"

"Uh… they both tried to bury themselves in the shirt." Santana said as Elle started to bounce on her lap.

"What about the wolf?"

"His bedframe is a car, it sits on the floor."

Matt sighed, leaning in closer "Santana I don't have to tell you kids live in this terrific fantasy world with good guys and bad guys, And with few exceptions like Bambi or The Lion King, the bad guy that gets boinked on the head always comes back to life."

"No, Matt I tried to sit down with Zee to watch the Lion King, he grabbed the remote and turned it off."

Matt rolled back slightly from Santana, "You know adults have a hard time with accepting death, especially when it's a child. Or a parent. Or a spouse."

Reaching into the pocket of her blazer to retrieve the pacifier, "I know that my Dad is a neonatologist, Matt. I've heard the stories."

Matt held his hand out to take the pacifier, rolling over to the small sink he rinsed it off "What have you told Zee? That his Daddy's in heaven? Went to visit Jesus?" rolling back over her hand, her Elle's friend.

Taking it, Santana put it in Elle's mouth, "Uh,… Daddy's in heaven. Zee thinks he's on a business trip."

"Santana, when you're a four-year-old, heaven is an abstract concept. It's even abstract for adults. And death is something all humans face and fear. What is it? I'm not ashamed to say that after death experiences fascinate me, even though I can explain death medically and the effects of anesthesia on the brain."

"Your point, Matt?"

"Exactly what you already know. Your children are acting out their frustrations because they don't have another way to cope. You need to give it some time. Be patient. Stick to a normal routine as best as you can. If it's not any better after the first of the year, I can recommend a counselor for Zee."

"Great, I'm spending twenty dollars on a co-pay for information I read on the internet."

"Well, I'm not going to take that co-pay without making a couple of suggestions. First, since Christmas is right around the corner, start a new tradition. In my family after Pops died, uh… my grandfather. Mom wrapped up his old hat and gave it to one of us as a gag gift every year. Silly, I know, but it was like Pops was there for a few minutes to celebrate with us. Or add something to the menu that Dave liked that you wouldn't normally serve."

Santana snorted, "Since they're too young for scotch, a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips?"

"Something along that line, but not for Elle. Choking hazard."

"Is that it?" Santana asked, irritated with herself for making the appointment.

"No, why did you put the hoodie on?"

"Uh… Uh, Kurt and I were in his closet, picking out his suit. I felt a chill. It was hanging on a hook. I just put it on." She remembered afterward, she'd taken it off to toss it in the laundry basket. She couldn't. It smelled like him. Instead, she'd thrown it on a chair as they were leaving the master suite. Even now, the sweatshirt still hung in her closet. "The second time I'd overslept, it was on the chair. I put it on I went down to breakfast. That when the kids saw me in it."

"Have you washed it? Or any of his clothes. Taken them to the dry cleaners?"

"Uh, no, they're pretty much where he left them. In his dressing area."

"Let Zee sleep with something of Dave's. If he finds comfort in it and he imagines his Daddy is protecting him from the wolf, he might sleep in his own bed."

"Matt I just got Tigger away from him, now you want me to give him something else to sleep with?"

"If it helps, then yes. Eventually, Zee will outgrow it. Now the bed-wetting. It's not that unusual in toddlers to revert back, then suddenly it stops. In fact, I probably mentioned that last time. Every kid is different. And if it doesn't, then yes, there might be a medical reason behind it, but I don't think so. Not right now."

"Well, you've been enormously helpful."

"I hear snark, but oddly feel the love in that comment." He grinned, "One other thing since Zee doesn't have any uncles or brothers or male cousins around. And I don't mean to come off sexist, but invite one of Dave's friends over to visit, see how Zee reacts."

"You've met Dave's friends, Matt."

"Yeah, well, my gut instinct is either Finn Hudson, he has a boy about Zee age. Or Mike Chang." Matt saw Santana lift an eyebrow. "My kids are in his dance classes too. And I've gone out with him for a beer after Fusion practice. Anyway, I think he'd be a good guy for Zee to hang with for a few hours until he learns to cope on his own."

"And Elle, let her sleep with something of Dave's?"

"If she's not sleeping through the night, yes. But I'd recommend you make it into a blanket, just don't put a shirt in her crib. You sew?"

"As hard as my Abuela tried, I never caught on. I sew buttons or repair a dress hem in an emergency. But Kurt does. Is that it?"

"How are you doing in? Aside from the stress of your kids?"

Santana sighed, "My friends call or text me that question every day. I'm coping. It's Christmas. My parents want me in New York. My uncle asked me to Miami. Karen wants the kids in Naples. Honestly, Paul's not doing well, so I want to stay in Lima." Taking a breath, "The police are keeping me updated as they choose too. Yet, I'm a person of interest in my own husband's death. I have attorneys scouring over our finances to make sure I'm not paying heritance taxes." Santana closed her eyes, "Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned the taxes. Whatever. Don't worry, I haven't succumbed to drowning my sorrows in alcohol. And I'm not here to ask for drugs."

Matt chuckled, "I didn't catch what you said between police and alcohol." He said with a wink, realizing he was listening to her need to vent more than her problems. "You've got a lot on your plate, Santana. And I want you to know my door is always open if you need someone to listen. OK?" Matt waited for her to nod before he stood up, "Let's go see what Zee is up to."

"Thank you, Matt."

"Part of being a pediatrician is to calm mom's," Matt said as he watched Santana secure Elle in her carrier. "Here, let me help" Grasping the carrier's handle, he opened the door as they both left the exam room.

No Shit Sherlock

Santana had begged off the traditional inner-circle Ugly Sweater Christmas party. She'd accepted dinner with Paul and April. It was a well-known rumor that Paul wasn't coping well with Dave's death. Rumor had it depending on the talk du jour. He was drinking. On drugs. Not bathing. Staying in his bathrobe all day. Not getting out of bed. Not working even from home. Had become suicidal. Had left Lima never to return. Had gone into a deep depression. Had checked himself into the hospital's psychiatric floor. Had been spotted with the homeless men on a bench in the city park. Had taken up painting, or even worse, had joined Karen's religious community. Quinn was sure none of those were true, except maybe some depression over Dave's death. That rumor seemed reasonable, if not understandable.

The rumor mill around Santana involved her bolting out of town as soon as she could. And the more serious one, she had put a hit on her own husband with some New York or Columbian gang lord or the mafia. The police had cleared Santana as a suspect. Albeit, they did ask her not to leave town and to inform them when she did. Which she had notified them of her upcoming weekend trip to get Beth in New York.

In her talks with Santana since the funeral, the only thing she'd gleened out them was the police didn't know of the pictures. And hadn't tied the car vandalism to Dave's death. Since Jesse had had a hardon for Rachel since she moved to Lima, Quinn had reluctantly agreed to her speaking to the officer. All Jesse said was they were interviewing suspects, turning the table to interrogate Rachel on her friendship with Dave and Santana. She thanked God, Rachel had sussed Jesse out, telling him she hadn't seen anything unusual in the Karofsky marriage. That their separation had been over a temporary misunderstanding. Grace confirmed, the divorce paperwork always seemed to be a ploy, not done with any intention of completing it. Jesse was deflated that everyone he'd interviewed about the marriage confirmed they were solid for the most part, with minor flare-ups over trivial matters. Jesse being the least bright blub on the sheriff's Christmas tree, never caught on to Rachel's hints about vandalism or pictures.

By seven, everyone had assembled, it was a tight fit for fourteen people to gather around Quinn and Rachels dining room table, they'd added a card table to the ends to accommodate everyone. To appease the football fans, the TV was tuned to the Idaho Potato Bowl game, though why anyone was interested in two non-Big Ten teams, was lost on both of their hostesses. Sam tried to crack a joke, in his John Wayne voice, about Ohio playing Iowa in Idaho, which only amused Blaine.

Blaine sat next to Kurt, wearing a red bow tie with images of sleigh bells and a bluish night sky cardigan with Santa and his reindeer lifting off from the snow at the bottom over a light tan shirt that matched Santa bag. "Just for the record, I oppose having a conversation about an ongoing investigation." He said.

"Duly noted, Blaine." Mercedes huffed with an eye roll. "So, Rachel, what have you heard?" she asked, adorned in a deep purple sweater with silver bells.

"My conversation with Jesse was less than fruitful. All he would confirm was what had been published in the news. When I inquired to pictures or the vandalism on the Jaguar, he claimed ignorance of either." She answered her sweater, a Hanukkah blue with a white Menorah on the front. "Personally, I think he was untruthful, though Quinn disagrees with my assessment."

Sam, across from her in a red tee with the Grinch on a rooftop, which he wore over a grey long sleeve waffle thermal shirt, "Wait, what pictures?"

"Seriously, Sam, do you live under a rock?" Kitty asked snidely, her white sweater had a house with lights streaming down the front and a Christmas tree in a window. The lights looked more like tinsel then Christmas lights.

"Hey, it's football season! I have high school games to attend. College and NFL teams to watch. I'm in four, count them four fantasy football leagues. Plus, I have to work and spend time with Ryder. There's like only so many hours in a day. And I have to adjust to is it fall back or spring forward with the clocks." Sam replied, growing more agitated as he explained his reasons why he was in the dark on the pictures. "Plus, I had to be pallbearer of a good friend and ex who died in a hunting accident. And I was across from Finn, who's taller than me and I trouble to keep my corner of the casket level with his."

"Hun, we talked about that already, I don't think Dave, noticed." Ryder calming his boyfriend down. "There wasn't much room in the casket for Dave to move." his own tee in green with Snoopy on his doghouse dressed as Santa. Woodstock sitting next to him. Over a tan-colored long sleeve waffle thermal shirt.

Blaine raised his hand's palm outward, "Sam I for one" his hands now on his chest "empathize with you. It has been a tough couple of weeks for all of us."

"Ryder is right, Dave looked like they squeezed his shoulders into the box," Kurt replied, sporting a slim fitted navy turtle neck with an evening forest scene of deer on contrasting white. "Coffins don't give men much shoulder space. And had she asked, I would have told Santana that Finn would be a poor choice due to his height. Symmetry is important."

"Can we like, not talk about the funeral?" Marley spoke up in a light gold sweater with an angel in white, "I mean, we can't change what's done. Dave and Finn were friends, and it's kinda an honor to be a pallbearer. Isn't it?"

"Marley's right, can we move on?" Tina asked. Her sweater divided into quarter sections with background colors in red, green, blue, and gold fronted by a Christmas present in each.

Dani had gotten into the habit of sitting on the same side of a table when she and Brittany had their quality meetings. Still, never next to her, "Sam, someone supposedly took pictures of Dave and Spencer, being intimate at the bar. We think someone was stalking them." Shrugging her shoulders, "Maybe extortion too." She explained wearing a green sweater with a gingerbread woman on the front that said, 'Take Me Gnome Tonight.'

"That's priceless Dani, forgetting your modeling career? The words 'Oh God, Fuck! Fuck!' don't ring your silver bells?" Kitty mimicked.

"Fuck off, bitch!" Dani responded

"Who the fuck invited you to crash our party?" Kitty spat out.

"I did," Brittany replied, "Dani has as much invested in this as any of us, maybe more since she's allegedly in one of the pictures." Pulling at her black sweater with a unicorn and the words 'Unicorns Sleigh Better' with rainbows around the cuffs and a matching scarf.

"Has anyone seen these pictures," Mike asked those around the table. He'd opted for a brown sweatshirt with a male gingerbread character with the words 'Check Out My Sweet Bod.'

"Uh,… I have." Mercedes replied, "And they're more graphic then what's being implied. Not all were taken at the bar. How you knew about the composition Kitty, I have no clue. Want to enlighten us?"

Kitty fidgeted in her chair, checking her nails, "OK," exhaling, "I guessed. I mean in Florida, San and Britt never did anything more than hold hands. And I was the one who closed Santana's bedroom door Saturday night. You both had your clothes on. Zee was between you two in the bed." looking over at Brittany. "It wasn't a big leap to guess it had to be Dani in bed with Santana."

"And?" Quinn nodded to Kitty. Her sweater, the same blue as Rachel's with a lighter blue Christmas tree blub tied at the top, was a bow.

Jake leaned in, "Kitty, play nice, don't piss in our sandbox." he whispered. His grey sweatshirt with a nutcracker and the words 'Let's Get Crackin' on the front.

"OK, I apologize, Dani. But I am still a bitch, so no apology needed on that count." Kitty said with a mischievous smile.

"Alright, let's get back to our main topic," Quinn said, relieved that girls spat had been settled.

"Wait, did we get that Dani was alright with Kitty's apology. Which came off a little weak too me."

Dani raised her hand "I'm good, Ryder. Kitty can be Princess Bitch, as long as Santana keeps Queen Bitch. Mercedes?"

Sam leaned over to Mike, "How do women stay friends when they're so mean to each other? He whispered.

"Ask Kurt later. It's a complicated pecking order. I don't understand it either."

"Quinn and I are trying to piece together what we all know to see if we can't narrow down who killed Dave." Mercedes waved her hands to silence whatever side conversation had started at the mention that Dave was intentionally killed. "Y'all know this was no accident. We think the vandalism and the photos are from the same person. That being Stoner Brett." Waving at those around the table to calm down, "Let me finish. We all know Brett is a space case, but he had a motive. Quinn?"

"Dave punched Brett when he hit April's car a few years ago. And Brett is one of the few people who have the freedom from a steady job to take pictures." Taking a breath, "Brett also has bragged about the vandalism."

"I was working in the ER when it happened. April, Santana, and Zee were all admitted after the accident. Dave was livid when he saw Brett. It took his Dad and a security guard to pull off of Brett." Marley confirmed.

Kurt shook his head, "Quinn, as much as I think Brett is a homeless stoner, even I could've bullied him in school. Or punched him. I mean, he just wants to zone out and be peaceful."

"And where would he get a gun?" Blaine asked.

"Uh, Bukowski Gun and Pawnshop," Jake replied. "His uncle owns it. It's over in Shawnee township, right next to the strip club another uncle owns." Shrugging his shoulders, "I grew up here, and Noah likes strip clubs."

"Do they ever have male strip shows? I mean not for me, but for the ladies?" Sam asked, seeing the looks of those around the table. "Come on, guys, I made good tips, stripping back home. Mike, Jake, me, and Ryder, we could roll in the cash as a stripper quartet. Think about it seriously."

"I'd rather not," Dani answered.

"I don't need to go to a strip club, I can watch Jake and Mike for free, at the dance studio." Brittany giggled.

"And get paid for it," Mike said as he shared a high five with Brittany.

"I'm sorry, and I may have to eat my words, but I don't think Stoner Brett has it in him to point a gun at a human being and pull the trigger," Kurt an adamant tone in his voice as he spoke.

"What about the truck? Brett's truck is a beaten-up old Toyota Tacoma from the '90s. It's got so much grey primer on it. I'm not sure what the original color was." Jake said. "And I'm gonna side with Kurt on this. It just doesn't sound like Brett."

"Then who would want Dave dead?"

"I think," Blaine leaning his arms on the table, "Tina, the more important question is why?"

"How can we figure out why if we don't know the who? Isn't that how it works, who, what, when, where, and why?"

"And sometimes how, Tina," Mike said.

"We know the why, Blaine, they were being stalked. That's obvious." Mercedes grumbled, feeling like the entire dinner conversation was going nowhere.

"But why were they being stalked. And why would that happen?" Brittany answered, "The five why's of cause-and-effect relationships."

"Huh?" Rachel spoke up.

"It's an engineering defect analysis technique to determine the root cause of a problem. Like why you don't have coffee in the morning. Why didn't the timer work? Why was the timer not turned on? Why did the person forget to set the timer? Kinda like that." Mike answered.

"Or in this case, try to figure out why to determine who. Which is great, but it's time-consuming, and we can all come up with different answers to the same problem." Ryder said.

"And we don't have what the police have. What evidence to analyze or what type of weapon was used. Police always keep what they know from the community. So what we have is just a rumor. Like Brett to go on." Marley said.

"Marley has a point. Plus, you're assuming someone in our community or the larger Lima community is the culprit, kinda like the six degrees of separation. When in reality, it could be someone none of us know from outside." Jake offered.

"Lima has a lot of haters. And even if Dave or Santana stayed on the down low, doesn't mean their hook-ups did." Kitty replied, "You all know I hooked up with Santana, just like Dani, Elaine, and Quinn. Blaine, Kurt, Sam, you did too with Dave. And what do we know about Spencer? Or any other guy he hooked up with for a twenty-minute love affair?"

"Wasn't it like Spock, who said, 'If you remove the bizarre, the leftovers, no matter how weird, have to be true?"

"No shit Sherlock, Spock said that?" Dani chuckled at Sam's misquoting of Arthur Conan Doyle.

"My name is Sam, not Sherlock. Like Sam, I am."

"I thought that was Will, i am," Dani giggled.

"Clearly, you never read the great Dr. Suess." Pulling on his Grinch shirt.

Dani started to answer, "Oh, I read Suess' books, and… "

"It's bad logic. However, Holmes is quoted." Brittany interrupted, "Watch any documentary on the History channel dealing with the supernatural, conspiracy theories, or prophecies."

"It's not called the History channel for nothing," Sam shouted, "Its about facts from history!"

"No, Sam, what it is called is the process of elimination fallacy, wherein all alternate possibilities are ruled out when, in reality, you can never know all the alternate possibilities." Brittany paused to take a breath, "What Holmes practiced was more eliminating the common possibilities, leaving the remaining one the truth no matter how questionable it is."

"Man, she lost me at fallacy," Jake whispered at Mike.

"I haven't a clue where this conversation is going." Mercedes sighed.

"Why are we discussing logic when there is nothing logical in taking another person's life?" Tina stammered.

"Because all we have are assumptions and a few facts. Marley's right, we don't have access to the evidence. Jake is right. It could be someone from outside Lima. Kitty's right, we don't know everyone Dave crossed paths with or Santana" Brittany took a breath. "And as Rachel indicated, the police aren't going to tell us what they know. I doubt if Santana knows all of it. What we do have no matter how questionable he is. Is Stoner Brett." With a shrug of her shoulders, "So, who wants to fire one up with Brett?"

A'int As Dumb As I Seem

Brett's home had seen better days as the girls walked up to the door. The building was in desperate need of a coat of paint, the exposed boards grey and weathered. Paint flakes from the cracks around the window frames shimmered next to the poorly strung Christmas lights. As they stepped onto the porch, a slight gust of wind made the downspout rattle. The porch boards creaked under their feet. The screen door on the front had hole low enough to be made from a foot kicking it, exposing the yellow insulation. The remains of the screen hung sadly in two corners, looking as though they wanted to reach out to each other. A snow shovel next to the door that had been used that morning, Brett's walkways cleared from the overnight snowfall.

When Brett opened the door, the musky smell of marijuana hit them like a dead skunk in the road. His ugly Christmas sweater had reindeers humping in the woods. The top reindeer howling upward, as in climax. His eyes bloodshot as he stood their mouth, agape, "Wow! I asked Santa for popcorn covered in chocolate and caramel. Man, am I glad my handwriting sucks!"

"Are you gonna let us in, or are you gonna make us stand out here to freeze?" Mercedes growled at Brett.

"Yeah, I just sat down to burn a blunt, if that's what you came for." Moving out of the way for the three women to enter.

A peaceful haze from the smoke drifted eerily around the low light of the lamps, in the room Even with the lighting, Brittany could see a layer of dust covered the room. Above the lamp, a cobweb swayed from the duct blowing warm air into the room. The brown shag carpet had distinctive paths that were worn down from age. The glow of a 64-inch flat-screen added to the ghostly effect.

"Go ahead, have a seat. I got a soda if ya don't mind Great Value Black Cherry or Orange."

Brittany looked around for a chair to sit in, the couch looked the most appealing, even with the cushions sagging toward the middle, one ripped. The rocking chair had books on it, Brittany surprised to see a worn copy of 'Brighter than a Thousand Suns: A Personal History of the Atomic Scientists' on top of the chair. The other option a newer recliner, from the stack of mail, TV remotes, along with the drug paraphernalia next to it, Brett sat in that chair.

"I'm fine, Brett," Dani answered.

"I'm good too." Mercedes replied as she pulled a bottle of water from her large purse to show him.

"Orange sounds good," Brittany said, meeting Dani and Mercedes stares with a shrug.

While Brett went to the kitchen, Mercedes cleared the rocker, giving it a shake to see if it would fall apart, satisfied that it wouldn't break under her weight she sat down. Brittany and Dani sat on the couch as Brett returned with the soda using the t-shirt beneath his sweater to wipe off the top of the soda can. Brittany took the cold can, lifting the tab to pop it can open, she took a drink it was ice cold. Brett returned to the recliner, taking the blunt from the ashtray on a TV tray, along with a lighter he lit the blunt. Once satisfied, it was lit. He offered it to Dani. Who passed on the offer as did Mercedes and Brittany.

Brett leery of the refusals smiled from his chair, "You're not like the police, are you?"

"Uh… we all work for KEI." Mercedes said.

Brett relaxed back into his chair, taking another drag from the blunt. "I love their grape shooters." The smoke escaping his lips as he talked. "You know I heard that there's a backdoor into that frozen warehouse through the cooling pipes." He coughed, blowing the smoke from his lungs. "Just outside the fence is a service manhole that will take you right into the freezer. You, know anything about that? Cos I'd love to have an unlimited supply of free grape shooters," closing his eyes to inhale on the blunt again.

Brittany and Mercedes looked at Dani, "Yeah, uh… I think that got sealed up back in the sixties, Brett. Something about finding dead animals all the time." Shaking her head with a shrug of her shoulders to indicate she had just made that up.

Holding his breath, then exhaling the cloud of smoke, "ah that sucks."

"Brett," Mercedes impatient with the stoner "You remember when that Jaguar got vandalized last summer?"

Brett smiled "Yeah, not my best work. But I paid for my TV with the cash I made."

"What the …" Mercedes got out before covering her mouth. Dani and Brittany's eyes bugged out at the confession.

"Yeah, all I wanted to do like spray paint a cat on it, but like the dude he like wanted specific words and like the paint, all scratched up. Headlights busted out. It took a long time. Then all those people started leaving the building, and I had to like roll under a truck to hide. Lost my screwdriver in the weeds. Pissed me off. Hey, you want to see my garden?"

"Uh… Brett, it snowed like 4 inches of snow last night, Not garden weather right now." Dani replied.

"No! No, my herb garden with the grow lights."

"Sure, why not?" Brittany said, "We've got the time."

"Cool," Brett said as he stubbed out the blunt, he led them back to a bedroom, opening the door the light from the room contrasted sharply with the home's dark interior as light flood out of the room."

"Sweet Jesus," Mercedes mumbled as rows of marijuana plants sat in pots under commercial grow lights.

Brett grinning, "Yeah, it's sweet, alright." He said as they followed him into the room. Explaining the varieties of plants he had. Pointing out the hydroponic system. The bottles of nutrients for the plants. And that the idea came from a former employer, Castle Nursery. Adding, he had to limit the size of his 'herb garden.' Otherwise, the electric company would investigate suspicious energy use to the authorities.

Unlike Mercedes, who stayed speechless. Once Dani and Brittany overcame, their initial shock asked questions. Brittany was interested in the details of the setup. Dani addressed the business side of his enterprise. With each question, Brett seemed to gain more trust in the two. When the four returned to the living room, Brett appeared more focused on talking about the Jaguar.

Dani started, "Brett, you said a dude asked to graffiti the car? Do you like … remember his name?"

"Amph, that's what he called himself."

"How did you meet him?" Mercedes turn to ask.

"Uh, let's see. Oh yeah, he was out by the pool when I went over to mow Adjacent. That's a mother fucker to mow with only a walk-behind mower!" Brett laughed, "Can't afford a rider, plus I'd need a trailer. And probably a new truck to pull it with." With a shrug, reaching over for the blunt, "The TV seemed a better investment." Rolling the blunt between his fingers, "If he saw me, he'd just come out with a soda or water. We'd talk."

Mercedes continuing her turn, "What did you talk about?"

"Oh, you know the weather. He told me you could fly above storms, see the rain coming down from above. Downdrafts. Turbulence."

"So this Amph guy was a pilot?" Brittany took her turn.

"I dunno."

"Did he ask you anything else?" Dani taking her rotation in the questioning

"Yeah, He like wanted to know about the ice cream factory. The family. Who they hung out with. Where they lived."

"Did you tell where they lived?" Dani, following Mercedes's lead, continued.

"Uh… yeah, in the big house outside of town. But I think he got lost."

Mercedes mumbled a silent "Praises" to herself.

"Amph is an odd name, did he tell where he was from?" Brittany asked

"Didn't ask." Lighting the blunt, taking a deep drag on it.

"What did he look like, tall? Thin? Fat? Short? Did he resemble someone who you know?" Dani continued her probe.

Brett exhaled, "Tall like the high school quarterback."

"Do you remember his hair color? Eye color? Tattoos? What he wore?" Dani continued.

Staring at the blunt, rolling it again between his fingers, "He always had a baseball cap on. Aviators. T-shirt. Shorts. Flip-flops. Summer shit," inhaling the smoke from the blunt.

"No tattoos?" Brittany asked this time

"What do you think I am? Gay?" Brett said, becoming irritated with the questions "I'm bored do want to watch a movie" taking the remote he pushed the Netflix button.

"Uh, no that's alright, we all have a dinner reservation, so we need to be going." Mercedes replied.

"Holy fuck!" Dani exclaimed as she sat in the front seat of Mercedes Chrysler, "I didn't expect him to fuckin' confess."

Mercedes counted out with her fingers, "He confessed to vandalism, growing weed and possibly accessory to murder. And god only knows what other charges they could bring against him. That boy could spend the rest of his life in jail."

"True, but he also solved one question we had, who vandalized the car. And gave us information on this Amph character." Brittany replied.

Dani snorted, "Yeah, San's tenant."

'Brighter than a Thousand Suns: A Personal History of the Atomic Scientists' by Robert Jungk (1970)