"Are you sure?" Stottlemeyer asked as they headed back to William Young's house, with a warrant in tow.

"Positive. It was actually something you said that led me to it. Back at the banquet, Sharona commented on the professionalism of the staff, and you said that the wait staff was better trained than all of the dogs in the police department. The waitress in the diner dropped a tray because it was her first day. Now, how likely is it that a professional waiter, one who's been carrying trays for years, would drop a fairly lightweight tray?"

"You're right!" exclaimed Sharona.

"But what would that have to do with the murder?" Disher asked.

"Nothing," started Monk, "It was only a diversion. The waiter was bribed by William Young to drop the tray just as the song started. The spill was close enough to where the band was playing for the players to notice and look over. The beginning of the song didn't feature the trumpet or the clarinet, but while Charles Lowell was looking at the spill, Young had the perfect opportunity to poison him."

"But the water glass wasn't poisoned," started the Captain.

"He didn't poison his water," Monk said, "He poisoned the mouthpiece of his trumpet!"

"That's genius," replied the Captain. "I'm going to call forensics and get a report on Lowell's trumpet."

"But why would a clarinet player poison a trumpet player?" Sharona asked.

"Because Young's wife was having an affair with Charles Lowell! The picture and the marriage counseling book are evidence of that."

"What does the shooting have to do with that, though?" asked the Captain.

"Another diversion," replied Monk, "Someone else might have known about the affair, and Young's motive to kill Lowell, so Young had to completely eliminate himself as a suspect. So, he got his brother-in-law, the cook, to help him. It's astounding, the resemblance between the cook and his sister. I realized that her picture looked familiar before. Of course, his wife's brother would also want revenge against Lowell, and was easily willing to create a diversion. Young loaned him his gun and instructed him to start shooting in the front hallway. Why else would a cook be so far away from the kitchen? He fired a few random shots in the hallway before gaining the courage to shoot himself in the leg and quickly throwing the gun under the desk before we rushed in."

"Automatically leading us to believe that the same person was responsible for both crimes!" exclaimed Disher. They knocked on William Young's door and he opened it.

"Mr. Young," started the Captain, "We'd like to ask you a few more questions in relation to the murder of--" Before he could finish, William Young began running away. "Stop!" yelled the Captain. The four began running through the house after him. Young reappeared, now carrying a handgun. The Captain and the Lieutenant drew their guns.

Sensing an opportunity for leverage, Young grabbed Sharona by the shoulder and pointed his gun at her. "Put your guns down or she dies!" He commanded.

Sharona's heart raced; she was terrified. She could see that the others were, too. Adrian was frozen in time, unable to move; the Captain looked completely taken aback and genuinely concerned. He started to slowly lower his gun. She looked at Randy, his face was pale and there was fear in his eyes. He lowered his gun as if it were made of lead. It hit her then; how much Randy really cared about her. A pang of sadness interlaced itself with her fear. Their guns were down, but Young wasn't releasing his grip on her shoulder.

Randy's eyes met Sharona's. He could tell the fear in her eyes matched his own. Of all his time in the police force, he couldn't remember ever being more afraid. He was a coward, and the woman he cared the most about was going to suffer for it. All of a sudden, he had an epiphany.

"Our guns are down, Young, let her go!" Randy said, steadily. "You don't want to do this." He moved back, toward the coffee table, praying that Monk and the Captain would follow his lead. A glass trophy was displayed on the coffee table. He picked it up and tossed it back and forth between his hands.

"What are you doing?" Young asked sharply.

"Nice trophy," Randy stated, calmly. He made eye contact with Stottlemeyer, who caught on quickly. Go long, Monk. "It'd be a shame if it broke. Broken glass everywhere, what a mess." He tossed it higher in the air.

"Quit it or I'll shoot her!" Young shouted. Randy knew that it was now or never.

"Monk, catch!" he threw the trophy over Young's head to Monk. Young turned his head and moved his gun away from Sharona. Randy lunged at Sharona and pulled her out of the way as Monk caught the trophy. With Sharona a safe distance away, Randy and the Captain picked up their guns and pointed them at Young. "You're under arrest, Mr. Young, for the murder of Charles Lowell. You have the right to remain silent..."

Author's note: Sorry it took so long for the update--classes and homework have been so hectic! I finished the story and will upload the final chapter in a day or so. Sorry if the murder scenario isn't very creative or plausible, I'm good at solving mysteries, but not so good at making them up. Just appreciate it for it's narrative merits, and not all the goofy details. Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are awesome!