A/N: Thank u so much for all the reviews =) and to all of those who are reading Control as well. I really appreciate it. Keep 'em coming =D

"Richard. Jackson?"

Sara stared at the man in front of her and Warrick, waiting for him to reply.

"Yes?" He asked, confused as to who they were.

"Hi." Warrick began. "We're from the Las Vegas Crime Lab, we're investigating the murder of a Jane Sanders… we need to ask you some questions."

Sara frowned slightly at the man's reaction. "Jane… Jane Sanders?" He asked weakly.

"Did you know her?" Sara asked.

He let out a small laugh. "Know her? I've been in love with the woman for six years…" He trailed off. "She's dead?"

"Mr. Jackson, can we come in please?" Warrick asked, taking a step forwards.

Richard shook his head as if to clear it before nodding. "Yes, certainly. Come in." He told them, stepping back so they could get past.

"Mr. Jackson," Sara began once they were sat around his kitchen table. "Our records show us that you were on the phone to Mrs. Sanders just before she died. Do you remember speaking to on the nineteenth of this month?"

Richard shrugged. "I… I spoke to her every day… I… I don't remember."

"Think hard." Warrick told him. "Did she mention anyone else in the house? What she was doing that day, what she'd done the day before? Anything at all?"

Richard shook his head, before resting it in his hands. "I… I'm sorry I really don't know." His head remained down for a moment before he looked up. "She's really dead?" He asked again, his voice watery.

Warrick nodded. "We're sorry for your loss."

Sara spoke up after a pause. "Mr. Jackson, were you aware Mrs. Sanders was married?"

Richard nodded once.

"And that she had children?" She continued.

He nodded again.

"Did you ever meet any of them?"

"I wouldn't know. She never told me their names… said what they looked like."

"Did she ever meet your kids?" Warrick asked, frowning slightly at the last bit of information.

Richard shook his head. "I told her about them though, and them about her. They always wanted to meet her… but I guess…"

"Mr. Jackson, did your children know that Mrs. Sanders was married?" Sara asked, taking in the room around them.

Jackson paused before answering. "No…"

"Did you ever ask why she didn't talk about her own children?" Warrick inquired, something in the back of his mind nagging at him that things weren't quite right.

Jackson shook his head and shrugged. "Not really… I… they didn't seem very important really. It was just about us, all the time."

"Did she love you?" Sara asked simply.

The man flinched slightly at her bluntness, but replied firmly all the same. "Yes."

"You're sure?" She pushed.

"Yes."

Sara frowned, and opened her mouth to ask another question when Warrick's cell phone ringing cut her off. "Sorry." He apologised, pulling it out of his pocket. "Excuse me a second." He hung up a moment later and turned to Sara. "We gotta get back. Mr. Jackson, thank you very much for seeing us. I'm gonna have to ask you don't go away anywhere until we come and speak to you again, we're going to have to ask you some further questions."

Richard nodded and stood up as they did, leading them to the door. "Okay."

"We're sorry again." Sara repeated. "For your loss."

Richard nodded as the walked out of his house. "Yes. Thank you."

~~

Greg yawned and sighed as he walked into his kitchen, throwing his car keys down onto the counter. "Been here long?" He asked dryly, not bothering to turn around.

The figure sat at the table behind him crossed its legs. "Not really."

"You're not due here until Saturday." Greg asked, reaching up into one of his cupboards and pulling out a glass.

"Nice to see you too."

Greg turned around and raised an eyebrow at the comment, taking in his older sister's appearance for the first time in five years.

"It's rude to stare Gregory." Carrie stated, watching his movements.

Greg resisted the urge to flinch at her tone. "You are so much like her, you realise that?"

Carrie raised an eyebrow. "I'm her protégée."

"How'd she manage that? The two of you have had about four conversations in all your twenty-nine years."

Carrie shrugged. "So we lacked common ground. She was a talented woman." She replied.

"Yeah. No shit." Greg snorted, turning away from her and returning to making his drink.

"So…" Carrie began expectantly, sitting forward in the chair. "How are you?"

"Don't start this Caroline."

"It was a perfectly legitimate question Gregory." Carrie asked, her tone now harder than it had been earlier.

Greg sighed and turned round to face her. "Why are you here?"

Carrie's face fell into a frown of disparagement. "I really despair with you Gregory. Our mother's dead. Why do you think?"

"You're not due here until Saturday." He repeated for the second time.

Carrie crossed her arms and gave him an unimpressed look, sitting back in the chair, her demeanour changed. "I'm here, to fix your mistake."

Greg scowled. "Funny that. Last time I checked that was Timothy's job."

"Timothy has his hands full."

Greg narrowed his eyes at her. "With what?"

 "Your little sister." Carrie replied evenly.

"She's your little sister too."

Carrie remained unchanged, staring her younger brother down, knowing it was only a matter of time before he broke.

"Stop it." He said firmly refusing to break her gaze. "I hate you, you know that?" He continued when she didn't reply, turning away.

"Nothing like honesty. Though I don't think it would do much for your case." She told him.

"Get out of my home Caroline."

"I'm not going anywhere until we unscrew what you screwed up."

Greg turned back to her scowling. "What I screwed up?"

"Don't start Gregory. You know very well what I'm talking about."

"Don't talk like Mom Caroline, you're not her."

"Thank the good Lord." Carrie's voice was even, and firm.

Greg sighed. She was impossible; utterly convinced she was superior to those around her since she was thirteen. "Aren't you even a tiny bit upset?"

"No. Are you?" She replied shortly. A smirk played across her lips when he didn't reply. "You were always trying to be something you weren't Gregory—"

"And this is you?" He asked incredulously.

"Then of course, you wouldn't be upset… would you?" She continued, ignoring his interruption.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know very well." She replied, looking at her watch. "Come on. We're going out."

"Excuse me?" Greg asked, anger still evident in his voice.

"We're going to breakfast." She told him, standing up and taking her coat off the back of her chair.

"I work night shift Caroline. I'm tired, I'm going to bed." He replied, shaking his head and walking past her towards his bedroom.

She grabbed his arm firmly as he passed. "We're going to breakfast Gregory." She said firmly in his ear. "Get your coat, get your shoes, and let's go."

Greg remained still for a moment, his face stony before turning back around and following her instructions.