CW for mentions of domestic violence, which will continue in the next few chapters (mentions only).


"Hey Team, we've got a case," Cabe announced, striding authoritatively into the garage.

"Old news, Grandpa," Toby said. "We've been here for forty-five minutes already balls deep in Reiber's…"

"Not the Reiber job," Cabe said. "That's not time sensitive."

"Which is why we're doing it now," Florence said, "when we don't have other jobs."

"We do now," Cabe said. "Or rather, you all do now. I was sent to brief you and then I go back home to hang out with Allie and all your kids."

"Which despite the screaming and drawing on the walls is probably a lot more fun than the Reiber job," Walter quipped.

"What's the job?" Happy asked, straightening up and placing a hand on the small of her back."

"You guys are being flown to an undisclosed location – in the United States, though, so no passports needed – in order to assist the local government with a…" he trailed off. "Well, a somewhat delicate subject, from my understanding. Apparently a military veteran has been accused of murdering his wife, and because of who the person is, they want to get some idea of if there's enough evidence to formally arrest the suspect for it, because the story will blow up regardless and they're hoping for something without a lot of gray areas. They brought him in for questioning last night and only have two days before they have to either release or charge. So you guys are getting on a plane in a half an hour to go out there and assist the investigative team. They asked for Scorpion by name."

"We haven't done this type of work before," Paige said. "At least not much."

"We can make it work," Toby said. "I can analyze behavior, and analyze the recording of the 911 call if there was one. Florence and Happy can assist with speeding up the processing of evidence. Walter and Sly can do calculations to see if a story is feasible in terms of time, angles, what have you. And Paige can deal with the bureaucracy of it all."

"Who is it?" Walter asked. "And what happened to the victim?"

"I haven't even gotten the details yet," Cabe said. "The downside to being retired is they don't tell you as much. I doubt I'd know the guy, other downside to being retired and he doesn't sound old enough for me to have worked with him. But that's probably a good thing – if I saw a name and thought 'no, no way he would do this,' that might taint our job. Objectivity is best."

"That's fair," Walter said. "So." He clapped his hands together. "Are we all on board?"

"Uh…" Sylvester hesitated. "I…I don't know if I should."

Cabe put his hand on Sylvester's shoulder. "Allie and I will check in on Tilly, Sly."

Sylvester bit his lip. "It's just…"

"I know. I know it's hard to leave them. And I know she's still in the hospital. But it's two days. And she's doing really well."

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Toby said. "I'm sure we can manage."

"No." Sylvester looked up at Cabe and gave a little nod. "No, I'll go."

Paige fished through her purse and handed Cabe her house key. "For Amber's pajamas and change of clothes. And don't forget her toothbrush. And she loves high fives when she potties but make sure she washes her hands first. And-" She stopped when she saw the amused look on Cabe's face. "Right. Right. Sorry."

"I'll email you everything they've sent me," Cabe said, turning to head back out. "Wheels up in thirty."


When the plane began to descend, Paige peeked out the window for a clue to where they were. All she saw were trees, a couple stray buildings, and mountains. They appeared to be arriving at a private landing strip. Military? A rich person? It was anybody's guess. The suspect was a veteran, but that didn't mean he'd be held in a military facility.

Maybe this place was just that rural. An odd kind of town for a murder to take place. And Cabe had said this one would be high profile. She could understand that. Murder of someone who had no enemies in a small town, main suspect possibly a war hero, putting somewhere where 'this never happens' on the map. She'd seen it before. She was seeing it, in a way, with the missing girl on Ralph's campus. The school itself, her hometown, everyone involved was amplified in ways they probably had never expected to be – and in ways they certainly never wanted to be. Ralph updated her regularly. There were no leads. It was as if Meg Mitchell had vanished into thin air.

They exited the plane and were immediately brought into what appeared to be a standard police station. "Hello, Scorpion," said a man in a sheriff's uniform, approaching and shaking all of their hands. "I'm Sheriff Masterson. Thank you for coming. I am sorry that this is your introduction to our beautiful state."

"Uh, yeah, where are we?" Sylvester asked.

"Based on our flying time," Walter said, "and the topography, I've narrowed it down to six likely locations."

"You're in Montana," Masterson said.

"I was going to say Montana," Walter grumbled. Paige elbowed him.

"So, um, Mrs. Quinn-Curtis, Mr. and Mrs. Tipton-Dodd, Mr. O'Brien, if you could come with me, I'll brief you on some of the details. Mr. Quinn-Curtis, Mrs. O'Brien, Alice here will give you the information. We'd like to see Mrs. O'Brien talk with the suspect – she's the talker of the group, yes? – and Mr. Quinn-Curtis will watch from behind the glass to judge his behavior."

"Alright." Toby shrugged. He and Paige followed Alice down the hall. "So the suspect's wife, the victim," she said, "was found dead three days ago. She had been beaten and strangled. Her husband was nowhere to be found. We located him yesterday. He says that he was out in the mountains cleaning up his hunting cabin to prepare for the season. We want to know if you guys can prove either that he's lying or that he's telling the truth, so if we do make an arrest, we have all our ducks in a row. This guy is something of a hero out here, and with his military background…" she trailed off. "Alice Masterson, by the way. Not related to Ben Masterson the Sheriff. Very unfortunate coincidence. We're always having to explain that we're not siblings, married, or mother/son."

Paige smiled. "I bet that gets old."

Alice Masterson smiled. She opened a door, revealing a couple stairs up to a dark room with a couple of chairs. "Mr. Quinn-Curtis-"

"That is such a mouthful, you can call me Toby."

"And you can call me Paige, while you're at it."

Alice stared at her oddly for a moment. Paige didn't like it. She folded her arms. "Problem?"

"No, no, not at all. My apologies." Alice motioned to Toby, closing the door behind him. She led Paige another ten feet down the hall, stopping at the next door. "The suspect and an officer is in here – the officer will leave once you get settled but remain just outside the door for your protection. The suspect will not know the officer is there which is important. All I need you to do is get him to tell you his version of events. Can you do that?"

"Sure." Paige was slightly nervous. She'd never interviewed a murder suspect before.

"Don't interrogate him. Just ask for his version of events and tell him you're preparing his side of the story for a newspaper article once this breaks. 'This is your chance to get your story out before rumors start flying,' got it?"

"Sure."

"Great. Go on in."

Paige pushed the door open, revealing a tiny room with odd, slightly flickering lighting. There was a table, which had been pushed back to nearly be against the far wall. The first person her eyes fell on was the officer, who gave a silent nod in greeting. Sitting adjacent to him was-

Her jaw dropped.

"Paige." Tim Armstrong struggled to his feet, pushing the chair back the little it could move away from the table before hitting the wall. "I didn't do it."