Spoilers 8x11

Chapter 5

"Would you look at this millwork? What is that, a 7" baseboard?" Gus remarked, turning slowly around in the ornate room.

Flack looked at her bemusedly. "We working a scene or real estate shopping, babe? I think this is a little out of our price range."

Gus snorted, "miles outside, damn rich people."

"Being rich didn't save him," Flack remarked, pointing down at Ron Ferguson's body. "Think the EMT is done with the wife, you wanna go work your magic on her?" he asked, jerking his head toward the distressed woman.

"How many times-" she started in.

Flack rolled his eyes, "I know, I know, not magic, just go talk to her while I see how the canvas is going."

Gus took the wife's initial statement, which sounded terrifying to say the least. The woman was clearly distraught, but Gus couldn't help but wonder if it was more then trauma making her eyes vacant. Something wasn't sitting right with her. She was more than happy to step aside as Mac took another pass at her.

Running through the Ferguson's financials didn't lend the detectives any insights other than feeling less than about their own bank balances. Gus stretched and sighed, chewing worriedly on her pen.

"Okay, out with it, sunshine, I know that is more than you thinking you gotta put more in your 401K," Flack teased.

Gus scrunched her face up making a note on her to-do list. "It is, though thanks for that reminder," she sighed, "it's Elizabeth, I just have a feeling that there is more than meets the eye there. Her story lines up so far and Mac seems to believe her, and I am not about to argue with him until they get the scene fully processed but…" she trailed off.

"It's usually the spouse, especially when money is involved," Flack finished. "We're just scratching the surface, Gus, no need to get into it with Mac yet." He paused, "but it is weird, if it is a burglary gone sideways, if they both saw the guy, why is just the husband offed?"

Gus shrugged, "mo' money, mo' problems," she quipped to Montgomery groaning, "now there really are two Flacks," from the desk behind her.

"Oh, so you let Lindsay drive but not me?" Gus protested as she and Flack made their way out to the lab truck.

Flack shook his head, his expression between amused and bewildered. "You hate driving in the city, babe and remember that time you drove us directly into a hurricane?"

"You are never going to let me live that down, are you?" she pressed.

"Children, do I have to separate you two?" Lindsay teased.

"Uh-oh, mom voice!" Gus quipped as Flack yelled, "shotgun!"

After traipsing all over four boroughs, Gus sat in the backseat realizing it was both Messer's whose driving made her car sick and Flack sat in the front cranky from lack of food. He helped Gus down from the backseat at their latest stop, taking in her pallor. "You okay, sunshine?" he asked, but she could only nod in return.

"Hey Linds I thought we were stopping for food," Flack said, striding up to the CSI. "I believe you're exact words were 'one more stop and then we get a bite to eat', that would be now," he pointed out.

Lindsay nodded, "yeah and this office is the last stop."

He shook his head, "no! No, no, no! You said it on the walk up to the last place, that's one more, this is two," he said holding up two fingers. Gus snickered while chewing on a mint, wishing she had ginger ale.

Lindsay laughed, "you are like Danny, you do not listen to what I actually say!"

"Oh I listen, I think the problem is you're not saying what I think you're saying!," Flack protested, as Lindsay smiled a wide grin and shot a look over her shoulder at Gus who snorted. "Hey says that too, doesn't he?" Flack laughed.

"Yep, word for word," she shot back.

Flack gave Gus a smirk as she mimed zipping her lips. "Men and women," he quipped.

Gus cleared her throat, "that guy look familiar to y'all?" she said, gesturing to the newspaper guy moving stacks around.

They paused, following her gaze, Lindsay pulling the artist rendering from her envelope. "Mark Johnson. He does match the description we got from Elizabeth Ferguson," Lindsay remarked.

"Yep, that looks like our guy," Flack agreed as the guy noticed the trio staring at him and rabbited over a stack of paper.

"Damn it, stop , NYPD!" Gus yelled as all three took off after him from different directions, her cursing intensifying as a car almost flattened her as it tried to park. She banged on the hood, watching as Flack vaulted over the hood of another car and Lindsay took off at a full sprint.

Gus had to shake off the man currently yelling at her for being in his parking space, watching as their suspect jumped into a car as Flack yelled, "stop! Stop! Get the hell out of the car!"

Luckily, Lindsay was able to get back to the truck and cut the smaller sedan off, though the guy did not hesitate to collide with the bed of the truck. Gus rushed to check on her friend as Flack yanked Johnson out of the car, snarling "hold it right there, don't do anything stupid!"

"Linds, you okay?" Gus asked, doing a quick once over of the other woman. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good," she said, brushing Gus off and moving over to the two men.

Flack shook his head while he cuffed Johnson saying, "I knew we should have stopped for food." Gus smirked as she called for a cruiser.

"How about you and Mac question Johnson and I get started on all the incident paperwork Mad Max here created for us with his stunt driving?" Gus suggested as she spied Mac and Elizabeth Ferguson coming out of line up, overhearing her uncle's continued ministrations of support to the wife.

Flack took in the situation with a quick glance, seeing his wife's posture change. "You sure, babe?" he asked, giving her arm a squeeze.

Gus nodded, "yep, have at it. I'll handle this and lean on Judge Nelson for the warrant for Johnson's apartment."

Flack came out of the interrogation looking frustrated. "Uh-oh, blue eyes," Gus remarked, "I take it he didn't spill?" Flack pulled a face. "Not at all, he's protecting someone, won't give up his partner, swears on his mother they didn't kill anyone."

"Must be some partner," Gus sighed. "The good news is, I got a couple of uniforms to toss Johnson's place, if you wanna finally go grab that bite."

His blue eyes lit up as he wrapped an arm around her, kissing her on the top of her head, "speaking of some partners, you are the best."

"I knew it," Gus said, reading the message from Sheldon and slapping her hand on the table. Flack raised his eyebrows in question as he continued eating. "The Ferguson's were definitely not living happily ever after. Ron's business partner said the pair were re-enacting War of the Roses and Ron was running things into the ground on purpose to prevent Elizabeth from getting any money in the divorce and…" she paused, "he was cheating on her with someone half his age. Jo is bringing her in for questioning now, so I gotta bounce!"

Flack looked down forlornly as the food left on his plate. "You can stay and finish, Don, I know better than to come between you and food."

"Wish Lindsay did," he snarked.

Flack took in the similarity dejected look on Gus' face when she found him back in the pit later. "I take it things with the mistress didn't go well?"

"Not the actual mistress, Eva Hutton got catfished, wasn't her profile, wasn't her plotting to kill the Mrs." she said flopping into her chair.

Flack tapped at the financials on his computer. "Roth wasn't kidding, Ferguson was basically flushing as much money and property down the drain as he could. Can't even track where all the money was disappearing to. And get this, Sid figured out our vic was suffocated, it wasn't blunt force trauma that killed him; he found cotton in his throat."

"Thanks for making things even more complicated, Sid," Gus sighed, it was going to be a long night.

Gus emerged from the on call room about to grab a quick shower when Flack intercepted her with a coffee, "drink up, babe, we got Mark's partner." Gus raised her eyebrows as she chugged the coffee, Flack filling her in on what she had missed.

"Elizabeth was posing as Eva Hutton as a divorce settlement ploy? Adam found root beer on the playing card corner and traced it back to the movie theater where surveillance video shows Megan coming but not going? She killed her father? How long was I asleep?" she asked, pulling her hair back up and putting her blazer back on.

Flack tugged on her lapel, "a few hours, but I know you didn't sleep before we got on shift tackling our laundry mountain, so don't worry about it."

"Who's on first?" she asked, cuing up the security video on the tablet before they entered the interview room.

"I've got good cop, you haven't had enough coffee yet," he teased, his point proven by the glower she gave him.

Flack wasted no time, jumping right into the security footage, gently prodding Megan Ferguson not letting anything pass.

"Rocky Horror, huh, Megan?" Gus drawled, continuing to sip on her coffee. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a theater nerd," she said kicking her legs up on the table.

Flack picked up, "it's pretty cool the way the audience gets involved, don't you think?" Dressing up, throwing things at the screen…confetti, rice, playing cards…"

Megan shrugged, vacantly, "I guess."

"Not a super fan, huh?" Gus quipped.

Flack gestured, "you know we found a torn bit of a playing card at the crime scene. It was linked to the same theater as where you saw the movie."

Gus dropped her legs down and leaned forward, her voice low, "time to cut the act Megan."

Flack picked up immediately, "the reason we don't have you on camera coming back out of the theater is because you walked in and then walked right out the back door to hook up with Mark."

"It's over," Gus said, closing the file she had opened on the table, "Mark is un custody, he already confessed," she sneered.

Megan started crying, looking up at Flack for help. He sat, looking at her, his voice calm as he said, "we have evidence that puts you at the crime scene, there is no denying that. What we don't have is the why. Why did you kill your father?"

Gus almost felt sorry for the poor girl as she told them how they had only planned the burglary, that the killing wasn't planned, how horrible it was growing up in a household full of hate, nothing more than her parents' pawn. Gus knew what it was like to grow up in a home where the parents were warring, she knew Don did as well. She also knew what it was like to lose your parents at a young age, and she couldn't imagine having been the reason why. "Did you think you and Mark were going to just take off into the sunset together?" she snapped.

Megan protested, continuing to explain her desperation to start over. Even Flack lost his patience. "Who smothered him?" he pressed, "he didn't die from the beating, he was smothered in cold blood!"

Both detectives studied Megan intently as she pleaded with them that they hadn't smothered him, that she loved her father and couldn't do something like that to him.

Gus was quiet as they left the interview, Flack leaning into her so their sides were brushing as they walked down the hallway. He had a good idea of where her mind was going, and while the interview had churned up plenty of bad fights between his parents for him, he knew his wife had experiences a much less happy ending to her parent's marriage.

"We ain't ever going to be like them, Gus, I promise," he said, moving them into a more private alcove.

She nodded, giving him a sad smile, "I know, it just sucks because I believe Megan on how horrible that house was for her, and she did something so stupid trying to have a different life and I also believe she and Mark didn't kill her dad, but she still has to grow up without him and-" Gus broke off, swallowing.

"I hate that you know how much that sucks," Flack said, tucking her hair behind her ear, letting his palm rest on her cheek. "And I hate that I know how much having parents who hate each other sucks; but I promise you, whether we have none or one or six kids, they ain't gonna know anything but a house full of love." He landed a quick kiss on her forehead.

"I am definitely not having six kids, Don, I don't care how much you want a hockey team," she quipped, her eyes still teary, but her smile genuine.

"Figured you would have gone home by now, I saw Don leaving," Mac said as his niece hovered in his doorway.

She shrugged, "I had a real long nap earlier in the on call room, figured I would finish up the paperwork on our end," she said, holding up a file for him.

Mac took it, looking at her a long beat, figuring the dead parent, young child angle had worn on her. "I hope this report doesn't say 'I told you so' anywhere in it," he said with a wry smile.

"I refrained, Uncle Mac," Gus replied, before stopping, "wait, how did you know? I never said anything!"

"You forget how much you have the same expressions Claire did. I knew what you were thinking when you had me take a second pass at Elizabeth Ferguson," he paused, admitting, "I suppose I didn't want it to be the same tired old tale."

"Damn rich people thinking murder is cheaper than a divorce!" Gus growled.

"Murder is never cheap, just like how many can't buy happiness, Gussie", he replied, both of them turning as his computer announced the arrival of a new email. "Go home to your husband, Gus, and tell him how much you love him."

Gus could feel the weight behind his words. "On it, Uncle Mac, and I love you too," she said, giving him a quick hug before she swept out of his office.