A/N: Here it is, chapter 2! I forgot to mention this last time, but I am going to do my best to update every weekend on either Friday or Saturday, usually Friday. I may miss a week here or there, but most weekends will see a new chapter in this story. That way you're not left with two months to forget everything before a new chapter comes out.

I want to say a big "thank you" to those who have reviewed. I really appreciate all the feedback I get. Those of you who didn't review, I'm still waiting. I accept anonymous reviews, though signed ones are preferred if you have an account. One quick thing about reviewing. If you think you know how the murder happened, please don't explain your theory in your review. I would rather you just email me your theory and I'll reply to you. That way you don't ruin the fun for everyone else. Thank you.

So that's all I have to say. Enjoy the new chapter!

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At 6'1" and 200 lbs., Detective Ed Baker was far from being a pushover on the Bayville police force. He had started his career in the NYPD and advanced to the rank of detective there. He'd raised his family in New York and now his kids were all grown and raising families of their own. Detective Baker was 57 years old. He would have loved to retire, but simply couldn't. He needed the health insurance. He had been diagnosed with lung cancer two years before, a product of smoking two packs a day for 39 years. He'd quit immediately after being diagnosed and fought the cancer with all sorts of treatments. He had been in remission now for one year and three months. He was still self-conscious about his hair though, which he lost in the chemo. When it came back, it only grew in on the sides, leaving him completely bald on top of his head. On the bright side though, his weight was much healthier now. When he was diagnosed, Baker weighed 245 lbs. He now liked to joke with his friends that having cancer was the best diet he'd even been on! After he was declared healthy, he had decided to slow down. He moved upstate and started working with the Bayville Police Department, a job he enjoyed much more than he'd expected. Baker had always loved the thrill of the city, but now he found the quiet of Bayville to be quite inviting as well.

Baker's partner on the force, Detective Natalie Miller, was at the other end of the spectrum. Miller was 35, although she looked no older than 26 or 27. She was a beautiful woman who had never married. Her love was her work and none of the men she had dated had been able to accept that. She dreamed of one day making it to the city and saw Bayville merely as a rest stop on her way to becoming a star detective in the NYPD. Working with Ed Baker had been like a dream come true for her. She constantly asked him for advice on how to handle cases and valued any input he gave her. She viewed him more as a teacher than a partner, though they certainly worked well together when on the scene.

Baker and Miller were easily the best detectives on the squad in Bayville. With that in mind, the choice to send the pair to Bayville's newest crime scene had been an easy one. They arrived at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters at precisely 9:12 p.m. Squad cars were circled around everywhere and the scene was chaotic. They were led into the mansion through the front door, where it was quiet enough for them to talk to Lieutenant Frank Varley, a tall, slim man with graying hair and a trim goatee.

"What've we got?" asked Baker once they were inside.

"DOA's Duncan Matthews, football star for Bayville High School," said Varley.

"Suspects?" asked Miller.

"Just one for now. Scott Summers. He lives here."

Baker took a look around the ornate entrance hall. "Wow. Quite a place to live!"

"Yeah. Body's this way. Doctor Dupree is waiting until you're finished," said Varley as he began walking to the kitchen. The two detectives followed him. "Baker, I'm making you the lead on this."

"Sounds good. So what's the story?"

"911 call came in around 8:50 from the phone here, presumably the DOA."

"We'll want the recording," said Baker.

"Of course. It's being delivered to my office. I'll get it to you as soon as I can. After the call, 911 center puts out an all-points bulletin. Two units responded at about the same time. The house is empty except for the DOA and Summers."

"I thought this place was a school?"

"It is. We don't know where the other students or teachers are. Anyway, they found Matthews already on the ground. Summers was on the ground knee-deep in blood trying to move the body."

"He make a statement?" asked Miller, her black ponytail bouncing as the three moved swiftly down a long hallway.

"No," said Varley as he opened the door to the kitchen. "Here he is."

The room was a grisly scene to say the least. The paling body of Duncan Matthews lay on its back on the floor beside the dining table. Blood ran along the floor around him. His eyes were open and hazy; his mouth red with blood. CSI units were already collecting blood samples and inspecting the scene. Doctor Dupree was standing to the side, waiting to take the body to the morgue when the detectives were done with it. Baker and Miller walked in and looked over the body.

"Blood everywhere. Where's the wound?" asked Baker as he slipped on a pair of rubber gloves.

"No one's bothered the body since Summers was pulled away from it," said Varley. "I knew you'd want it untouched, Ed."

Baker and Miller both crouched over the lifeless form and made mental notes to themselves. Their eyes scanned over every inch of Duncan looking for evidence.

"Found a bullet hole," said Miller, pointing to a small hole in Duncan's left shoulder. "Too much blood for just one hole though."

"No doubt. That's not a fatal wound. It just incapacitated him long enough to fire the fatal shots," said Baker. "Ready to roll?" he asked.

Miller nodded and rolled the body over. Four bullet holes were immediately visible in Duncan's back.

"And there's the rest," said Miller.

Baker glanced down at the tile floor beneath them. "Three more in the floor."

"We should be able to recover at least one to match to the weapon," said Miller, standing up.

Baker stood as well and turned to Varley. "Speaking of which, do we have a weapon yet?"

"They're looking for it."

"Let me know when they find it," said Baker. "I want that gun."

Suddenly, the door burst open and a tall redheaded teenage girl ran in, immediately followed by three other teenagers. They all stood in the doorway and stared at the body silently.

Baker shot Varley a gruff look as if he were demanding that his crime scene be more guarded than this. Varley understood the look and nodded. He turned to tell the kids to leave, but two uniform cops appeared and led them away with an apologetic wave to the detectives before Varley could say anything.

"The other students, I presume," said Miller once they were gone.

"Guess so. Excuse me, detectives. I'm gonna go have a chat with them."

Baker and Miller nodded as Varley turned and left the room.

When he was gone, Baker turned to face Doctor Dupree. "Can we have a minute, Doctor?"

"Of course," said the middle-aged man with a nod.

Baker and Miller stood over the body for a moment while a CSI unit took some photographs. "When can you have the autopsy report?"

"Tomorrow by lunch."

"I want to know everything," said Baker.

"Of course."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Miller.

The doctor nodded and Baker and Miller left the room. They pulled their rubber gloves off and walked past Varley as he was talking to the teenagers.

"You two going to Central?" asked Varley as they passed him.

"Yeah," said Baker over his shoulder. "We're gonna go talk to our suspect."

*****

Once they were back on the road, Miller turned to her partner to gauge his reaction to the scene.

"What do you think?"

Baker glanced at her through the corner of his eye. "I think he did it. I think he was just about to get rid of the body when the uniforms caught him. How 'bout you?"

"I don't know. What's the motive?"

"That's what we're about to find out."

"Yeah, I guess. But what was Matthews doing at the Institute in the first place though?"

Baker shrugged. "Don't know. Was his car there?"

Miller thought back, but they had both neglected to think of this question while at the mansion. Before she could answer, her cell phone rang. It was Varley.

Miller answered it after one ring. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Just finished talking to the kids. Apparently Summers and Matthews were in a fight at school earlier today that earned Summers a suspension and Matthews a detention."

"What was the fight about?"

"A girl. The redhead to be more specific."

"The one who ran into the room?"

"That's the one. Apparently she had been dating the victim."

"There anything going on between Summers and the girl?"

"Not that anyone knows of, but it's possible she was cheating on her boyfriend. They live together. It'd be easy to keep it a secret."

"Thanks, Lieutenant. By the way, was Matthews' car there?"

"Yeah. Whether he drove it here or not is another question though."

"Alright. Thanks again, Lieutenant."

"No problem. Hey, you two be careful with Summers. I don't want this case lost on a technicality."

"Sure thing, boss."

Miller hung up the phone and replaced it in her pocket.

"You catch that?"

"Yeah, sounds like teenage love gone awry."

Miller nodded. "I think we have our motive."

*****

Scott was waiting in the dim interrogation room when Baker and Miller came in and sat down across the table from him. Baker spoke first.

"Take the glasses off, son. It's 9:30 at night."

"I can't. I have an eye condition," said Scott.

Baker was surprised by the response. He leaned forward and called on his most intimidating voice to get the reaction he wanted.

"Take 'em off now. It ain't exactly bright in here. Yer eyes'll be fine."

Scott refused again, aggravating the man even more. Baker reached across the table and snatched the shades off his suspect's face. To his amazement though, Scott's eyes closed as soon as the glasses were gone!

"Open yer eyes, kid. We're not playin' games here."

He shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not?" asked Miller in a demanding tone. She'd seen suspects play strange mind games before, but this was ridiculous!

Summers sighed. "Have either of you ever heard the term mutant?"

Baker and Miller exchanged surprised, quizzical glances. Miller shook her head at her partner, but Baker seemed to be lost in thought. After a moment he finally answered.

"Once. I had a case about 15 years ago where some guy killed his son. He said the kid was a mutant and was shootin' lasers outta his hands. We thought he was crazy though. He's been locked in the loony bin ever since."

"He may have been crazy," answered Scott, "but he was right about his kid being a mutant. If I open my eyes, a powerful red beam will fire out of them. It'd be enough to destroy this whole building. Trust me. I've seen it happen. That's why I wear the glasses."

Again, Baker and Miller found themselves looking at each other in surprise.

"I'll prove it if you can just give me back the glasses," said Summers.

Baker shrugged and placed the shades in his hand. Scott immediately put them back over his eyes.

"Now, watch the edges of the glasses. You'll see a red glow."

Scott began to pull the glasses down his nose a little bit, just enough that the light from the beam shone out from his face. The detectives watched him in shock until he replaced the glasses snugly over his eyes.

Baker nodded. "Okay, anything else we should know about this 'mutant' thing?"

Scott shook his head. "No. Every mutant has a different power, but that's all I can do."

"Your friends know about that?" asked Miller.

"Only the ones at the Institute."

Baker and Miller glanced at each other, then turned back to Scott. "Thanks for leveling with us, Scott," said Miller sympathetically. "We won't hold those powers against you. I just hope you can be just as honest while we talk about what happened tonight," She played the good cop pretty well against Baker's bad cop.

"Well then Scott," said Baker, "would you like to tell me what happened tonight?"

"I don't know what happened. I just found Duncan's body in the floor."

"No idea how he got there?"

"No."

"That place you live at, it's a school, right?"

"Yeah."

"Where were the other students?"

Baker watched him sit in silence for a moment. He had interrogated hundreds, maybe even thousands of suspects before but he had never questioned anyone wearing sunglasses. It was hard to gauge Summers' reactions. He couldn't tell if he was lying or not when he heard the answers.

"Where were they, Scott?" asked Miller soothingly. She couldn't let him clam up.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" said Baker.

"No. They left without me at about 6:30. I didn't see them again until after you guys got there."

"So what'd you do when they left?"

A quick pause.

"I went for a drive."

"Where to?"

Silence.

"Just around."

"Just around," mocked Baker. "Great! You wanna help yourself Scott? Then you gotta give us better answers than 'just around.' Where'd you go?"

"Nowhere, really. I just went for a drive to clear my head."

"From what?"

"Some stuff."

"From the fight you had with Matthews this afternoon?"

Another pause.

"Yeah."

"We hear you got a stiffer punishment than he did," said Miller.

"Yeah."

"That make you mad?"

"Of course it did."

"Mad enough to kill?"

"No."

"What started the fight this afternoon?" asked Baker.

"He was gonna hit Jean."

"Your girlfriend?"

Scott paused.

"His girlfriend."

"But you wish it was the other way around."

No answer.

"All right Scott," said Baker. "Here's how I see it. Maybe you got mad when he tried to hit the girl. Then maybe you got even madder when he got off lighter than you. Then you find yourself alone for about two hours. You're mad and you're alone. Your emotions take over and you kill Matthews. That's a temporary insanity plea and you only get a few years."

Scott still didn't respond. Baker noted again how hard he was to read with those glasses.

"Or maybe you're mad that he's datin' the girl you like and you decide that if he was out of the picture, then you could be with the girl. If that's the case then that's pre-meditation and you go to jail for life, or worse."

Still no response.

Miller leaned forward and tried to explain the situation to him. "We can sell this to the DA two ways, Scott. Tell us which it was or tell us where you went tonight. Give us an alibi," said Miller.

Scott's head was dipped down so that he appeared to be looking at the table. He still wasn't answering.

"This is your only chance, Scott," said Miller with a sense of urgency. "Help us help you. We don't wanna see you go to jail for this."

Still no answer.

Baker stood up, Miller following his lead. "Think about it, Scott. The DA is already charging you with first-degree murder. And at your age you can be tried as an adult. Get convicted and…well, the words 'lethal injection' spring to mind. Now we're gonna step outside. You stay in here and think about that. You can help yourself kid, but you gotta start now. Think about it."

The detectives left the room and locked the door behind them. Once outside, they immediately started talking as they made their way to the office.

"What do ya think?" asked Miller.

"No alibi. Plenty of motive. Plenty of opportunity. Unwilling to answer questions that dig too deep. He's guilty," said Baker matter-of-factly.

Miller nodded. She was beginning to think the same thing, but she wasn't quite convinced just yet.

When they got to their office, they found a sealed brown bag lying on their desks. Detective Malhoney, another detective in their squad, pointed to it when they got there.

"That just came down from Communications," he said.

Baker picked it up and ripped the bag open quickly. Then he pulled the cassette tape out with glee.

"Let's see him keep his mouth shut when he hears this!"

*****

Baker and Miller came back into the interrogation room and returned to their seats. Scott was still right where they'd left him. Once they were settled and the door was shut, Baker set a tape player on the table between him and Scott.

"This is the 911 call that was placed from the Xavier Institute tonight, Scott. Care to guess what's on it?"

Scott didn't answer, but kept his gaze glued to the tape player.

"Let's find out." Baker reached over and punched the play button, then settled back to watch Scott's reaction.

"911 emergency center, what's your situation?"

"He's got a gun!"

"Sir, what's going on?"

"I didn't know he was this crazy!"

"Sir, calm down. Where are you?"

"Oh man, he's coming! He's coming!"

"Calm down sir. Please listen to me…"

The sound of a door opening could be heard.

"Dude! What do you think you're doin' man? Put that thing down!"

BLAMM!

One gunshot rang out, followed by a very short pause.

BLAMM! BLAMM! BLAMM!

Three more shots fired quickly and a thud was heard over the phone.

BLAMM!

BLAMM!

BLAMM!

BLAMM!

Four more sounded individually after a short pause.

"Sir? Sir! Somebody call homicide!"

Baker hit the stop button. During the tape, Scott's gaze had stayed fixed on the tape player. His mouth had twitched at the gunshots, but other than that Scott remained motionless, his body leaning forward with his arms resting on the table. Again, Baker cursed those sunglasses of his. It was impossible to read the kid with them!

"That's powerful stuff, Scott. Something like that gets admitted at trial."

Scott's mouth curled into a small, cold frown. His gaze remained fixed on the tape player. Baker noted a few drops of swear appearing on the kids' brow.

"Anything you wanna tell me, Scott? This is your last chance."

"I wanna talk to a lawyer," he said without raising his gaze.

That was it. There was nothing more Baker and Miller could get out of him now without first talking to whatever slimy lawyer he hired. They stood to leave the room. As Baker opened the door, he turned and looked directly at Scott's face.

"That's a good idea, Scott. 'Cause I'm thinkin' you're gonna need one."