Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

Summary: Helga, never imagined that one rash decision at a party, would turn her life completely on its head six years later, and leave her in a twisted web of secrets, lies and deceit. The skeletons are coming out. For Hillwood, it's the crime of the century. A love/crime/triangle drama! R&R!

A/N: Alright, so last chapter had a clue in it. Most of everything ever mentioned, has some purpose and will come back into play in later chapters. I can be a drably writer at times, but I'm trying to drop hints subtly everywhere in this with my drabble. We'll see I guess. Anyway enjoy!

They'll keep us apart,

And they won't stop breaking us down.

Helga sat on the edge of her seat, bent over the table with her head in her palm, anxiously flipping the cap to her empty water bottle aimlessly around in circles. She was tired, so tired, and running purely on adrenaline and total will power. She'd been in that room for going on an hour and half at that point, without so much as a peep from anybody, and she was about at her wits end.

Finally, when she was all good and ready to get up and go bang her palms on the glass a few times to get somebody's attention, the door clicked. Her eyes darted up, seeing Sid slowly enter the room, taking note of the dark circles under his own eyes, and the open Red Bull can being loosely clutched between his fingers along with some folders.

He gave her a worn and somewhat apologetic smile as he sat down in front of her, "Helga, I'm sorry you've been stuck in here for so lo—"

"—Sid, what's going on?" She dropped her arm to the table and sat up, giving him a hollowed out stare. His eyes fell to his folders, realizing he had begun biting his lip when they did. He knew she was tired of being jerked around over the last two days, and as much as he didn't want to bring the wave of shit that reality was, down on her in one fell swoop, he knew she wouldn't tolerate him trying to be delicate with her.

So when he looked back up at her very impatient eyes, he licked his lips and braced himself to say, "We've arrested Arnold for the murders of the eleven girls found on your property."

Helga's mouth went slack for a moment, her jaw then opening and closing a few times as if she wanted to say something but just couldn't quite make it happen. Words were indeed hard to come by for her. She could see in her mind, what she wanted to say, but she just couldn't make it happen. None of it made any sense to her. It wasn't right. There had to be a mistake. "On what grounds? Because we own the house?" She finally managed to ask, her voice extremely strained by that point.

Sid's heart was breaking for her, and physically, he couldn't hide it in the way his mouth down turned and his brows scrunched together. "We found Taylor Mendez under the patio. I don't know if you remember her, but..."

"Taylor?" Helga whispered. Yes. Yes she did know who she was. At that point, she sat back in the chair, bringing her knuckles to cover her mouth as she looked off, feeling a heavy tear roll out of the corner of her eye. "I do...I knew that she was..." Whatever she was about to say, she never bothered finishing.

So Sid continued with, "Did you know she went missing five and a half years ago?"

Helga swallowed hard, and shook her head, "No, I didn't." Admittedly, she hadn't paid much attention to a lot of anything that wasn't...well, Arnold, at the time. Having been more wrapped up in a very intense and very steamy new relationship with him. And he had never shown any signs of concern or of there being anything wrong.

"I'm guessing then, you didn't know that he was questioned about her disappearance." She refused to look at him. "Because he was the last person who ever saw her alive. The night he was breaking things off with her," He explained and proceeded to inwardly cringe as he watched a second tear slip down her cheek, taking a faint black line of mascara down with it. He imagined Rhonda being put in a situation like this, and his heart just continued to break for her. As much as he didn't want to continue to be the one providing the turmoil, he begrudgingly went on with, "It's troublesome that she was found...where she was with all of that in mind." That was the best he could come up with. The best he could tactfully word it.

Finally, she looked at him, eyes bloodshot and glossy with disbelief, "Sid, you can't believe he did that."

His grey eyes fell to the table, unable to face her, and he sighed with an audible sadness in his breath, "I don't know what I believe, Helga."

"No," She vehemently shook her head, unwilling to accept his less than subtle hint. "No, he's not capable."

"There's another woman, we're looking into as well. Monica Davenport," He began as he watched her continue to shake her head in denial. He knew, on that reaction alone, that she was at least familiar with her name, "He worked with her. She's been missing for twenty five days now."

"He's not," She replied, knowing exactly what he was implying.

Serial killer.

"Look I..." He trailed off, his eyes falling back to the table as he searched for the right words, "I can't even imagine how you're feeling right now. I'm really...I'm really struggling myself. But Helga, there isn't much wiggle room here."

"He's not, Sid," She repeated with an air of finality.

"These guys, they can blend in very well sometimes. They...they have careers and...they have families to hide their darkness beneath. He's not what he seems."

Helga continued shaking her head, the tears steadily being squeezed out of the corners of her eyes, while feeling very self loathing of her transformation from tough girl into a hormonal, and disorganized mess. She felt crippled by it. Crippled by the fact that she wasn't herself in the moment she needed to be the most, even though she knew she couldn't help it. It still didn't make her feel any less helpless and well out of her comfort zone. Normal her would have already gone across that table and knocked the wind out of Sid for even implying such an atrocious accusation, but mother-to-be Helga could only sit there and churn up tears over it.

She hated it. She hated every bit of it.

While she may have had no control over her emotions those days, her mind was still humming along just fine for the most part. And in her mind, Sid was full of shit and it was all one giant misunderstanding. Arnold wasn't a serial killer. Not her Arnold. He couldn't harm a fly. She wasn't a cover for his evilness. Their life wasn't some giant invisibility cloak, masking his dark, wretched desires and actions.

It wasn't possible.

Their life was real. Everything they had together was real.

They had just bought the wrong house, at the wrong time. That's all.

"Helga," Sid reached his arm across the table, offering his open hand to her, "I...I need you too think about you right now. Okay?"

She glared at him through blurry eyes, "How can I possibly think about me, when you've stolen part of it away?"

Jeremy smirked, "Yeah you know her. Head nurse on your floor at Hillwood Medical. She's been missing for a little while now. So where is she Arnold? Where'd you put her?"

"I didn't do anything to her." Arnold seethed through his teeth.

The detective sat back in his chair and coolly crossed his legs, "You know Arnold, it would be much better if you just tell us where she is, and...just admit to what you are. You do that now and...you'll possibly spare yourself a needle in the arm down the road."

Arnold slammed his palm on the table, having finally lost his cool, "I didn't fucking kill those girls!" He shouted at him.

Sighing, Jeremy leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and scratching his face, before saying, "You know what I think?"

"I don't care."

"I think that you've been at this for a long time. And I think that Helga was your perfect meal ticket and the perfect camouflage for you. Your mistake was burying your bodies on your own property. But they're trophies for you right? Anytime you went out back, they were there. Where were you keeping Taylor before you moved her to your patio?"

"For the last time, I have no idea how she or any of those other girls ended up at my house!"

"Yeah you do. And I'm positive you have another killing field somewhere. You just moved some of your favorites didn't you? You sick little fuck."

Arnold rolled his eyes, balling his hands into tight fists, "You know what my mistake was? Buying the wrong damn house!"

Jeremy laughed, and reached over and flipped open his final folder, "You didn't even buy that house." And then fixed him with a pointed stare, "According to the mortgage holder," He pointed at the paper, "Helga owns that house, not you. 'Cause she's the bread winner right? She's pulling in the cash right now."

"Well, Jeremy I guess with that logic you could suggest that she killed those girls," Arnold shook his head in disbelief. "Which is just as laughable."

Jeremy was unmoved though, flipping to a second piece of paper, "I'm pointing out that she's taken care of you for the majority of the time you've been together."

"I'm in the middle of my residency. Of course I'm making a lot less than her right now. What does this have to do with anything?" Arnold huffed back in his chair, glaring at the detective, before heatedly gesturing out with his arm, "And why the hell are you going through our finances?"

"Just a piece of a much larger theory of mine," Jeremy grinned, choosing not to answer Arnold's question, and instead going on with, "You're an intelligent guy. You...get involved with a girl whose independent, and can foot the bill for everything. I mean, you've got to hand it to ole' Bob, he's an asshole, but he spits out winners. She's been the perfect hiding spot for you. She's busy, isn't clingy, takes care of everything...frees you up to stalk and kill a lot of women," He sat back in his chair again, crossing his arms, "That's a great set up, in fact. The handsome heart surgeon, his gorgeous wife, and their adorable little family. You get your hooks in deep, create the illusion of the perfect life. You'd go unnoticed for...decades...perhaps forever."

Arnold rolled his eyes, and leaned forward, dropping his elbows heavily on the table, "You're an idiot."

"I know it's hard. I don't want to be in here having to do this to you anymore than you do. But I know that if...you start thinking about everything, you're going to realize that many things don't make a lot of sense," Sid tried again with Helga, withdrawing his hand.

Helga huffed, having grown tired of every bit of that day, "Like what?"

"Like this trip to Mexico," He started with. He was curious about what her impression of this all was.

"Sid, we were going on an extended vacation. We are suppose to be getting married in Belize two weeks from now," She said as if it were the most normal thing on the planet.

"Was this planned all along?"

Helga hesitated for a moment, but finally replied with, "No. We decided to take a break from everything a few days ago."

Sid folded his arms on the table, "Your idea or his?" Him asking her that seemed to strike a chord in her, that left her looking as she'd just tasted something awful as she looked off to the floor. "Was it his?" Her eyes fluttered back to his, a newly dispatched concern smearing through her ice blue orbs. She never did answer him, but he knew the answer. Her reaction said what she never could. "He withdrew twenty thousand dollars from a joint account of yours the day your flight departed from Hillwood. What did he tell you that was—"

"What?"

Sid was just as confused as she was at that point. The entire time they had always assumed that she knew they were traveling with a large sum of money, but under false impressions of why. However, she acted as if that were the first she'd heard of it. He cleared his throat with a small cough, "Were you not aware of that?"

Helga suddenly felt stupid, having to admit that she didn't regularly check into that account. What person didn't regularly check into their money? A busy work-a-holic who knew nothing major ever went in and out of one of only two accounts that they shared. That's who. "I might look at that account once a month." She said in a low voice.

"He had the money in his back pack. And he didn't tell you about it. Why do you think he would do that?" Sid asked, he already speculating why Arnold would do that, but hoping that he could leave a crumb trail that she would follow.

"I'm sure he had his reasons," One being that he had to have known she would flip her lid about them toting that much cash around.

"To me, that looks like he may have known who we'd find under that concrete," Sid suggested, and then watched as her eyes scrunched tight and a few more tears pushed out. "What if what I'm saying is true? What if his whole reason for wanting to leave and taking out the money was because he did know that we'd find Taylor there? What do you think would have happened when he was done with you? You would have disappeared and nobody would have ever known where—"

"—Stop talking to me like I'm a fucking child," She scolded, shooting him a few well placed daggers with her red, glassy eyes. She wasn't one that had ever let somebody talk down to her like she were stupid, and even in the position she were in, the principle still applied.

Sid seemed to understand how he'd come across to her, and knowing how'd she'd always been in their youth, knew that trying to lecture and scare her wasn't going to be a winning strategy. It had been stupid to say, and if he were fair with himself, it had just kind of come out without a thought. He at least had the awareness to correct with a sincere, "I'm sorry," He told her honestly, and ran a hand over his brown hair.

The two sat in a semi-awkward state of silence for a few moments before Helga sniffed quietly and asked, "Can I see him?" Sid wasn't sure what to make of the request. Yes, he got that she probably had loads of questions. Of course she would want to see him. What he couldn't make out by her tone was if it were a request that sprung from her continued denial of everything he'd told her, or if it were from a desire to get an answer out of Arnold herself.

Either way, it made him think that putting them together might be a fruitful endeavor for the investigation. Giving her a nod he answered with, "I'll see what I can do alright?" He watched her give him one limp half nod as he stood from his chair, and left the room. He was glad to have left the room. He hadn't realized how hard it would be to do all of that.

He did interrogations all the time. He and Jeremy would routinely swap back in fourth between good cop and bad cop. He'd never had any trouble dealing with grieving families, uncooperative spouses, or dirtbag felons, one would eventually become numb to it all. What he had never been prepared for, and one can't assume to ever be prepared for it, is having something of this magnitude hit so close to home.

Granted, he, Arnold and Helga didn't exactly hang out, nor had they really been friends past high school and maybe the occasional party they would cross paths at on campus, but he knew these two people. Both had played their own individual hand, along with the rest of their P.S. 118 crowd, in helping him grow into a teenager and then into the adult that he was.

And now, it was incredibly painful for him recollect Arnold from golden boy status to dark monster and Helga from untouchable to wrecked. It almost wasn't fair that he had to be the one get the call for this.

He walked across the hallway, peering through the one way glass to see Jeremy still in his interrogation with Arnold, and having seen Jeremy just shoot him a concerning look, Sid reached out and clicked the audio button so he could hear what was being said.

Jeremy slowly removed the toothpick from his mouth and gestured at him with it, his eyes suddenly boring a hole through his captive, "That really pisses me off, you know. That you'd take her and use her that way."

"You're an idiot," The blonde repeated, licking his lips and then leaning back in his chair in a counter stance at Jeremy, "And I figured it would come to this with you."

"What?"

"We bought the wrong house. Focus your resources on better suspects and stop harassing me."

Jeremy scoffed, feeling his patience rapidly waning, "Your ex-girlfriend is dead under your back patio, and you think there is some other better suspect than the last man who last saw her alive?!" He incredulously asserted.

Arnold sat up, crossing his arms, his own face suggesting that he was rapidly waning in patience as well, "You're the detective. That's your job to figure out, and right now, I don't think you have a capability of doing that because you're so consumed with your dislike for me. I get it. I do. I burned you many years ago, badly, and maybe it still stings. But you need to get over it, because at this point, its really pathetic."

The detective's face turned to stone, his fists flexing a little as he had to thoroughly restrain himself from going across that table, "I'm pathetic for having sympathy for the person most caught up in this web outside of the girls you murdered? This doesn't have anything to do with us. It has everything to do with being a decent Goddamn human being," By that point he was deeply scowling "She thinks that you actually love her, that you actually want that life. She's going to find out that it was all a lie, and that reality is you are a serial killer who is leaving a load of collateral damage in her life and everybody else involved with this. None of those girls deserved to die, and Helga didn't deserve to get wrapped up with somebody like you either. So, yeah, if that makes me pathetic, so be it."

"You know what you're going to get Jeremy? A massive lawsuit brought down on this entire place when you find the exact opposite to be true. All because of your incompetence," Arnold threatened, his jaw setting in a hard line as he bored a hole through the detective with his unblinking eyes, "We're done here."

Jeremy stood up in a muted huff, "For now," He growled out, and then leaned onto the table, putting his weight on the knuckles of his fists.

"I want to call my lawyer."

"Like I said, you're a smart guy, and you think you're smarter than everybody around you, but you aren't smarter than me. I am going to find Monica, and I am going to nail your ass the the wall for what you've done to other those girls and for what you've done to Helga too." Scooting all of his folders together, he picked them up, and as he was exiting the room he heard:

"And I hope that you find her...happy, healthy, and just wanting away from her life. Really."

Jeremy turned his head and gave him a strange look. "We'll see, wont we?"

As soon as he walked out, he saw Sid leaning against the wall, staring with a long face that hadn't been perked at all by the energy drink he'd so recently consumed. "What the hell was all that about?"

Jeremy cut him a look and sighed, shaking his head in frustration, "He just taunted me. Did you see that shit? I just want to strangle that creep."

"This is multiple murder investigation, not a fucking soap opera." Sid said, finally bringing his eyes up from their fixation on the worn carpet, just in time to catch his partner roll his eyes and defiantly wave off his suggestion as crazy while starting to walk away. "I think we need to put them together, and see what we can get them talking about."

"Why? What did she say?"

"Nothing. I just think its possible she could get him to."

"Absolutely not."

Sid exhaled, pushing off of the wall, "Come on, Jay. I just went in there and had to start destroying everything she knows. Do you think that was a picnic for me to do? No, but I think if we can get her mind turning a little more, she might be able to help us. I think she knows things I don't even think she realizes she does."

Jeremy turned back around, "No, what we need is that search warrant to be expedited by that lazy ass judge! What? You actually think she's going to go in there and make him tell her what he is? Fat fucking chance!"

"Who knows what she might could get him talking about! He trusts her!"

"She isn't going to flip on him that quickly! She has way too much invested in him for that and I'm not torturing somebody that way," He said with air final-ness in his tone and started walking away again.

"Then you need to excuse yourself from this investigation, because you obviously still have some feelings that cannot be present here," Sid warned while fixing him with a serious stare.

Jeremy spun around, "Are you serious?"

Sid didn't budge a muscle, "Get it together, or I will make sure the Lieutenant removes you from this. Are we clear?"

Jeremy shook his head with an incredulous look besmirching his face, "Unreal. Do what you want." Sid half expected him to storm off to their desks or outside to hide out and smoke a cigarette that nobody but Sid knew that he would still have on occasion, and as he was known to do when he was angry about something. But he didn't, and it was a clear indication that he thought something good might come out of his idea. "I'm going to go grab a soda, it'll only take a second." He held up his index finger as he turned and breezed down the hallway and took a right.

Sid took the opportunity to make the move happen, walking back to the room Helga was in and beckoning her to come with him. She'd never exited a chair, or a room so fast in her life, looking around as she stepped into the hallway, seeing Sid stick a key into the door across from where she'd been and open it, waving her towards it.

"Arnold."

He snapped his head up, hearing the voice he hadn't heard in nearly two days, seeing her come plowing into the room like a little blonde storm. Jumping up from behind the table, "Helga," He replied, really surprised to see her, but rounding the corner, pulling her into a tight hug. To her, everything seemed normal with him. Like it should have been.

He couldn't be a killer. What murderer could possibly be that caring and affectionate. He pushed her away from him, still holding her at arms length as he looked her up and down, "Are you okay?" He asked.

She quickly nodded, "I'm fine." He enveloped her into another embrace, one that she only allowed to happen for a moment before beginning to try to extract herself from him. He seemed confused by it, until she looked back up at him and said, "Arnold, I don't know what's going on."

His face took on a weariness that ached of fatigue as he replied with, "I know. I don't either."

"You need to talk to me."

Her significant other nodded, turning to slide his chair towards him. She slid her around the table too and they both sat, facing one another. She waited for him to say something, but he acted like he just didn't want to. Finally he said, "They found Taylor under our patio."

Helga nodded at him, feeling the tears begin to well for the millionth time that day, "Why did you never tell me that she disappeared? Or that you were questioned about it?"

"Because I...didn't want you knowing anything about that whole situation."

"Why?"

"Because I had sex with her that night." Helga inhaled sharply, and Arnold steadfastly shook his head, "When you left the night that Jeremy showed up, and went to Phoebe's, I had no idea if you'd ever come back, because you wouldn't give me an answer about us before you left. But I was still breaking things off with her, regardless of if you wanted to be with me or not. The next night, I broke up with her but not before...not before...fucking her. I don't know why I did it...still angry I guess. It was a horrible thing to do because I had just suggested that we...start something serious. But then you came back the morning after that...and I knew...I knew if you knew I'd done that...there would be no taking me seriously."

Helga was rubbing her temples at that point, trying to figure out where to begin with all that. As much as that bothered her to know he'd kept that from her, she was also well aware of the fact that, it was a long time ago, and he was right, they hadn't even been an official couple, and she really hadn't any room to be judgemental of past indiscretions. At that time, she'd been sleeping with him and Jeremy for over a month, and she were sure that he'd probably looked back on it with disdain on more than one occasion too.

"Arnold...I really don't care about any of that at the moment. I don't. We've got it okay? We've been established that you and I were a pair of grade 'A' whore fucking sluts with each other." Still, he wasn't getting away from it. She was pissed about the lies more than anything, "But, you start a relationship with me and you feel it's appropriate to hide the fact that you got questioned for your ex-girlfriend's disappearance?" She angrily hissed at him. "Something that I have to find out about five and half fucking years later after you are arrested in the fucking airport for murder?!"

"I'm not a murder, and I didn't want to scare you off!" He shouted back in an elevated whisper, "What would you have thought if I just popped up a couple weeks later and said, 'Hey, Taylor's missing, I got interrogated about it, because apparently I was the last one in her apartment, fucking her and then breaking up with her, but they let me go, trust me though, I had nothing to do with it'? You would have gotten yourself as far away from me as you could and as quickly as possible."

Helga rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter! You lied about it! Now I'm wondering what else you've been lying about! Mexico? When were you planning to tell me that you withdrew that much money?!"

Arnold sighed and dropped his head into his hands, propping his elbows on his knees. "I'm sorry about not telling you that I withdrew all that," He picked his head back up and cast her an apologetic look, "I...I knew you'd have a lot of anxiety about traveling with that amount, and I didn't want that, but...I was concerned with our debit cards getting shut down for suspicious activity in a foreign country. I just wanted us to have a good time, without any hiccups."

"Then you talk to me and tell me these things! You talk to me!" She was leaning forward, heatedly stabbing her index finger at the floor, "Because now...now I don't know what to think!"

"I know, and I'm sorry I just..."

"—You act all weird about them tearing up the concrete, you suddenly want to go on a babymoon that you've never mentioned any interest in whatsoever until two days ago, you withdraw a ridiculous sum of money from our account without telling me, and you've acted about as distant as a—"

"—I know it looks bad, okay?!" He finally admitted, "I screwed up royally. I did. I wanted us to get away so we could clear our heads. That's all. I had no idea that they would find Taylor under there." Pausing for a second he let go of a worn breath of air and said, "I'm sorry that I've been distracted lately, a lot of it was work, and this crap and...and...Monica."

"Monica?" That name seemed to coming up a whole lot lately.

Arnold rubbed his face, "The head nurse on my floor."

"I know that," Helga quipped, a little on the harsh side.

"She's still missing, and...she was my work buddy, or...I guess you could call her my work best friend. I don't know. You spend a lot of time in a place like a hospital you tend to get to know people, but of all the people I worked with, I liked her the most. And she made a lot of long nights way more enjoyable with conversation," He explained, but the entire time Helga was becoming more, and more, confused by what he was saying.

About as nonplussed as one could possibly be, she finally managed to spit out, "I've heard you mention her all of twice, and now you're telling me she was your BFF at work? What the hell does this have to do with—"

"—Because I started thinking about her still being missing and how...and how whoever put those girls on our property probably got her too..." He trailed off and looked up and away, leaving Helga staring at him with quite a bit of undesirable thoughts beginning to turn in her head.

She licked her lips, already feeling her throat begin to tighten up even just thinking about what she was about to ask. "Arnold..." It came out rather dry, her eyes shifting from the table back up to him, "Were you sleeping with her?" Phoebe had been right, given the right circumstances, there would always return the thin layer of distrust among one another. She didn't want to believe it, but given their past, it warranted asking.

And doing so was tearing her apart inside.

"What?" Arnold's face blanched as his eyes rapidly cut back to her face, seeing a few tears slip down the sides of her face. Brow furrowing hard he half whispered, "Why would you even ask that?" looking almost as if he were insulted that she even would inquire.

On the other side of the glass, Sid uncrossed one of his arms and began gesturing with his index finger in the air, "What do you want to bet that he was?" He asked his partner, but never looking away from the portal.

"Nothing. Because I'm almost positive at this point that he was. It's probably why she's missing now."

Sid turned his head towards him, "I don't know man. It seems odd that he would pick off another woman close to him. Especially if he'd done it once already. He had to have known that it would raise suspicion."

"I'm not saying he intended to kill her. I'm saying that...maybe she got clingy or maybe she threatened to out their affair to Helga. He had a lot to lose if that were to happen."

"Hypothetically of course."

"Dude's a monster, who the hell knows why."

"—Don't lie to me," She demanded while wiping her eyes off, watching his mouth bob open and closed a few times.

He sighed, shaking his head, reaching out to place his hand on her knee, and for the first time ever, feeling her flinch at his touch, "Sweetheart, no of course I wasn't," His voice was so sweet, and caring, "I...never even saw her outside of the hospital. She was just...the person I hung around most there and would talk to about...everything, TV shows, all of our remodeling ideas and...who I vented to about our...baby struggles." Helga nodded.

And she believed him.

Arnold scooted his chair right up to the front of hers and pulled her into him, letting her tuck her face into his neck as he rubbed her back. "I'm sorry. For everything. For all the lies. I didn't want to scare you off, and I didn't want you worrying while we were gone. I wouldn't dream of deliberately doing anything that would push you away from me," He told her in a very low voice, that only she could hear while nuzzling her, "You know what they're doing..." He trailed off, glancing briefly at the glass mirror. "And why they let you in here."

Helga nodded, "I asked to see you, but I know exactly why they let me," She replied in a equally quiet voice.

"They know if they can get you to abandon me, I'll have no way to really fight this," He whispered, "And I don't trust Jeremy. At all," She nodded, understanding completely what he was implying. "Call Pete," He requested, referring to the contract lawyer she frequently used draft and notarize large commercial contracts with, "See if he knows a good defense attorney."

She pulled back and soundly kissed him on the lips, "Alright," She kissed him again, lingering on his lips for as long as possible, "This is going to get dealt with." As much as she didn't want to leave him there, alone, if she were going to deal with anything, she had to go take care of it. "I need to go," She said and slowly stood up, he following her lead.

Wrapping his arms around her one more time he told her, "I love you."

"Forever. Not maybe," She finished and pulled away from him, giving him one last look before knocking on the door, assuming it to be locked. Their eye contact broke when the door crept open and she slipped through.

On the other side she realized it was Jeremy who had opened it for her. She gave him and Sid the briefest of looks she was capable of, saying, "I'm leaving," And started walking away down the hallway, back towards the way she'd come in many hours ago, already bringing out her cell phone to call Phoebe.

Jeremy took a few steps behind her before stopping and asking, "You need us to take you anywhere?"

"Fuck off Jay," She kept on walking until she rounded the corner, holding the phone to her ear as she heard it begin to ring. By the time she had made it outside, her friend answered, "Pheebs, hey...listen..." She began with a worn sigh, running her free hand through the top of her hair, "I know it's the middle of the day but, do you think you could pick me up? I'm at the police station...I'll...I'll explain when you get here. Yeah...thanks. Bye." She red buttoned her phone, thumbing over to her other contacts to find Pete. She pressed the call button and leaned back against the brick wall.

In the span of twenty-five minutes that it took Phoebe to arrive, Helga had gone from leaning against the wall to squatting in front of it as a fresh wave of nausea hell washed over her, which had made it damn near impossible to have a conversation with Pete and subsequently, John, whom he'd referred her to. Frankly, she wasn't a hundred percent sure if it was morning sickness or her beginning to come down from all the adrenaline that had been driving her for two days? Maybe it was stress.

Or maybe it was some franken-combination of all of that. She didn't really care. She just needed it to scram so she could focus fully what she needed to do. But, who was she kidding, she didn't know what to do! Besides getting an expensive attorney. Which she was doing. What was she to do otherwise? Her husband, the love of her life, and the father of her child, was sitting in a precinct, under arrest for the murders of at least eleven women, one being a former girlfriend.

Talk about the most unbelievable circumstances under the sun.

And it made her feel, for the first time ever, absolutely helpless. His fate—their fate was effectively in another person's hands and the lack of control in the situation was killing her.

Phoebe pulled to the curb and Helga ended her call, promising to be by his office in the next hour or so before sluggishly skipping into her friends awaiting vehicle, collapsing into the first comfortable seat she'd been in in hours. "Helga, what is going on?" Her friend hadn't even pulled away from the sidewalk before she was asking.

Helga sighed, leaning forwards and dropping her head into her awaiting palms, propping her elbows on her knees. "Arnold's in jail. He got arrested at the airport."

"What?!" Phoebe's eyes bugged. "What did he do? Why was he at the airport?"

"We were going to Mexico," Helga quietly replied.

Her friend's brow furrowed, "Your wedding is two weeks away, why were you on the way to Mexico now?"

"I really don't know at this point," Helga said, almost reflectively, still wondering herself why they agreed to such a large last minute travel plan. "We got picked up at LAX. They arrested him for the murders of the eleven girls they found at our house."

"Oh my God..."

"One of them was Taylor Mendez."

Phoebe glanced at her friend, who finally sat back up and back into the headrest, "Who?"

"The girl he was dating while we were messing around with one another. They found her at our house. I didn't even know that she was missing."

"Helga I..." Her friend took a deep breath, "I don't even know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. Please, just don't." The blonde implored, shutting her eyes, "Just take me to my house."

Phoebe didn't say another word as she drove them out of Hillwood, into the outskirts to her friends house. When they pulled into the driveway, Helga wordlessly got out and marched to the garage and punched in the code, lifting one of the doors. She hadn't told Phoebe goodbye or to wait and Phoebe being the friend she was, figured it would be wise to follow her in.

By the time she came through door, her friend was rummaging through a kitchen drawer, it obviously being their catch all drawer based on the stuff she was tossing out of it. "Helga?" Phoebe meekly tried. Helga slammed that door shut and walked off into the living room, yanking open the drawer on an old secretary desk and rooting through it. "Where the fuck are my goddamn keys at?!" She yelled aloud.

"Helga," Phoebe tried again, "Please clam down."

Her friend slammed that drawer shut too and spun around, giving her a very pissed look, "Calm down?! How am I suppose to calm down?! They arrested Arnold at the airport! I-I am fucking sick as a dog with morning sickness and the bodies are fucking piling up around us! I think I have a right to be having a damn break down at this point, so don't tell me to fucking calm down!" Helga huffed back at Phoebe, throat feeling so painfully tight as she was fighting hard not to collapse in tears.

"Please...just take a breath. I'll help you find your keys so you can go do whatever you need to. Is that okay?" Phoebe asked take a slow step towards her. Helga ran a hand over her face and back through her hair, but thankfully nodded, accepting the help. "What do they look like? Any special key chain?"

The blonde shook her head, "It's just a black key fob with the logo on one side, on a ring with two keys, ones brass looking and the other is sliver."

A few more hours ticked by for Arnold. He'd been moved into a regular, non-interrogation style room and locked in. By then he'd soundly passed out, head tucked into his folded arms on the desk as if he were back in middle school. He wasn't sure what was keeping him in that room, other than him evoking his right to an attorney. A part of him had wished they would have just stuck him in a damn holding cell again, at least he'd have had a half-ass cot to stretch out on.

The door clicked open, "Arnold?" He didn't emerge from unconsciousness until he felt the table shake a little and then vaguely making out a, "Mr. Shortman?"

Arnold sat up, groggily seeing a squat, bearded middle aged man sitting in front of him with a briefcase sitting on the table and two cups of coffee beside it. "Yeah?" He asked.

"John Tennant," He reached his hand across the table of his new client to shake, "I'm going to be representing you." The blonde perked up, shooting his hand out to shake the attorney's. "I got a call from your wife saying that you were in a bit of a pickle down here."

"Uh, yeah, you could say that."

"I didn't know if you liked coffee, but if you do, I figured you might could use one," He grabbed one of the cups and sat it down in front of Arnold, who graciously nodded, popping the top and taking a sip.

"Thank you."

"Okay so, here's what's going to happen," John began after taking a quick sip from his own coffee, "I've already been filled on the situation, but I want you to tell me everything alright? I've got to have complete honesty from you, our we clear about that? I'm not a man who enjoys surprises, so the fewer of them we have, the better it's going to be for us."

Arnold nodded, "I understand. I'll tell you anything I know."

"I'm going to ask you this once. I ask all of my new clients this and no matter which way you answer, its not going change my representation of you. It's completely confidential whatever you say, client to attorney. Not even your wife will know what your answer is."

"Sure."

John gave him a squared look and asked, "Did you do it?"

Two Days Later.

"So basically, right now, we have a mostly circumstantial case here," The special prosecutor, Claire, said, looking over everything that had been laid out on her desk. The lieutenant, and everybody else involved in the investigation standing around.

"Mostly circumstantial? His ex-girlfriend was under his patio! That's pretty coincidental if you ask me."

Clair nodded in agreement, "And, I agree, however, a defense would just argue that she was there before they moved into the house. Right now I have no way of proving that he was the one killing them other than, my gut tells me that something doesn't add up. Coincidences like this, don't just happen. We can all agree on that."

Sid and Jeremy nodded.

The lieutenant grumbled, "She needs more to work with to convince a potential jury with."

"We're waiting on the search warrant for the house," Sid replied.

"I'll see what I can do about that," Clair proposed.

Four Days Later.

Despite not wanting to be back in that place, and despite Phoebe's begging of her to stay with them, Helga had made the decision to move herself back into the house for two reasons, and two reasons only. She wanted to sleep in her own bed again, and she couldn't justify continuing to pay a mortgage on a place she wasn't staying in. She dreaded seeing the back yard, their destroyed patio, and she hated having to let the dogs out there. By the end of the day, on the last day she'd seen Arnold—she'd talked to him once over the phone—everybody knew. It hadn't hit the news yet or anything, but their entire inner circle knew he had been arrested.

Somehow, in the mix of all the stress, and anxiety over every, she still had to find time to do work. To carry on and run a Goddamn business. Carry on like nothing was wrong. She thought she might explode on some days. It was madness!

It was later on, the follow Saturday night, while she was cross legged on her bed, putting together a report that her phone started vibrating madly on the bedside table. She looked over, seeing it was her parents landline and wearily answered it, not really feeling like talking.

"Hey," She distractedly answered, continuing to type away.

She heard her dad reply back, "Hey Helga."

"Hey dad. What's uh...what's up?"

"I was just calling to see how you're doing. We haven't heard from you in a few days."

"Same as usual. Busy, tired, and stressed," She sounded a little more abrupt than she had intended to be with him.

Bob paused for a second, "Listen, your mother and I, well...we're worried about you."

Helga ran her fingers over her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose replying, "I know. I'm fine. Really. It's just...a shitty situation, and I'm doing my best to handle it and work too."

"Yeah, I know that. But, you know you don't have to stay out there in that house. We're...actually a little concerned about you being there by yourself anyway."

"Dad..."

"I know your mother would like it if you came home for a little while, at least until Arnold's out and home," The idea of her going back home and living, even temporarily sounded absolutely awful to her. And not because there was anything wrong with her parents. There wasn't. She'd actually gotten along great with them once she'd moved out and her and Bob's alpha personalities didn't have to share.

But she got it though, with Olga halfway across the country with her own family, she was their only daughter nearby, and no doubtedly, toting around what would become their 'favorite grandchild' being she'd be the only one they'd see more than twice a year. Which meant they were extra concerned with her well being.

Still, as much as she didn't want to be in her house, she just couldn't do it. Just couldn't. Her parents meant well, but there was something entirely too surrendering about it. She wasn't about to go crawling to mommy and daddy just because life had thrown her a...very unique curve ball.

She was Helga fucking Pataki after all.

"I appreciate it but, this is my house. I just need to stay here."

"Well, alright. But if you change your mind..."

"I know, I know."

"So uh...have you heard anything this week?"

Helga sighed, "No I haven't. They haven't even plead him yet. It's like they're just holding him until they can find something that sticks."

"Something just doesn't seem right about that."

"No it doesn't," She glanced over at the clock, seeing the time before saying, "So, not trying to rush off the phone, but I'm in the middle of some work stuff that I've got to get done."

Bob snorted a little, "All you do is work."

"I get it honestly," She replied with a half-laugh herself. "I'll talk to you guys later."

"Alright have a good night."

"You too, bye."

"Bye," And before Bob could his the end button on their phone, Helga could overhear him say, "I tried. She insisted on staying out there," Obviously to her mother.

Monday Morning.

She'd stayed up way too late doing things.

Entirely.

And while she hadn't worked late into the night, after laying in bed for over an hour, trying to sleep, and being thoroughly unable to get her mind to shut down, she had gotten up and proceeded to clean things. Which she hated doing. She was no slob, but she didn't keep a show house either. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but she just felt the need tidy. Like there was something calming about making sure everything were in place. She got the psychology of it. But that had morphed into her ending up downstairs, and then on the couch watching TV until she finally fell somewhat asleep at around 4:15 that morning.

And there it was, a little before eight in the morning, and she was trying to find the drive to get her ass out the door for a full days worth of stuff she had planned. It was there, while she were pondering if she would be able to make it even until mid morning, standing at the kitchen bar with her precious one cup of coffee, that her doorbell chimed.

Nothing that early in the morning could ever mean anything good.

Dreadfulness and a mild amount of panic pierced through her body, giving her that quick, heated sweat feel that left her feeling hot inside. The dogs were going nuts, as usual, barking at the door—God if she could remove their vocal cords she would—and she couldn't get to it fast enough to shut them up. "Go to the living room." She pointed way, "Go!" They ran off, but not where she wanted them to.

She pulled the door open seeing Jeremy, Sid and a handful of other police officers standing on her porch, her eyes thinning defensively at them.

"Hey Helga," Jeremy greeted.

"What do you want Jay?"

It was then that she realized he'd been holding a folded piece of paper, which he then handed over to her, "I've got a warrant to search the house."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me..."

A/N: I decided to forgo the cliffhanger ending this time around. The chapter was getting awfully long so I decided to just end it there. So what about Arnold though? Is he telling the truth or is he about to take everybody on a goose chase. Has he got Helga under his spell? Who's right?! Who's wrong?! Who isn't what they seem?! Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for all the comments!