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: Yeah, I know. It's been awhile. To be fair, I did warn of incredibly slow updates because of my other story. Well, I'm back, and guess what? This chapter ratchets up the heat! So, I hope you enjoy it, or hate it, it's meant to be conflicting so either or may happen!
These many detailed things.
Like broken nails and plastic rings.
"Trust me. I don't want to be here anymore than you do," Jeremy calmly replied, appearing apprehensive about taking one more step towards her. He knew she could be downright feisty when she wanted to be. And she hadn't looked like she was in a particularly good mood to begin with.
"We've got no choice Helga..." Sid said from where he was standing right behind his partner.
They had a choice, but she was well aware that she didn't. She couldn't bar them from her house. Like they would find anything anyway. But just the thought of them coming in, and tearing apart her and Arnold's already badly damaged home was putting her stomach in sick twisting knots. She was struggling to want to stay there as it was and that...them standing there...well that was just the fucking cherry on the shit of a sundae she was being force fed.
"Whatever..." She rolled her eyes, knowing how lame and immature she sounded, and looked, but honestly not giving a rat's ass at that point. She turned and walked back in, already fishing for her phone to begin the aggravating process of rescheduling the work appointments she had that day. She wasn't about to leave these people alone in her house. Not by a long shot. In the middle of all of that, her dogs were going berserk watching all of the strangers entering the house, and she made no attempt to silence or crate them.
Hillwood's finest could deal with the wrath of two miniature beagles. And if they laid a hand on either one of them, her lawyer was going to be the first to know.
It was petty, she was well aware. But, if they were making her hurt, she'd make them hurt right back. If it came to that. Honestly she just wanted them gone. The faster they tore through her house and found nothing, the faster they would be out of there and the faster Arnold would be home, because they would have, obviously...nothing.
Nothing besides an unbelievable coincidence.
One hour, turned into two, turned into three, and that was when Helga realized that she and Arnold had more stuff in their house than she'd ever realized. Their dwelling looked like a case of extreme looting, with crap thrown everywhere, and what appeared to be sheer chaos. Out in the garage they had gone through both her own car and were combing away at her work SUV in the driveway, picking out hair fibers and anything that could be of use to them. It was absurd to watch. She bitterly laughed about the fact that every single hair they were bagging up would either be hers or Arnold's. She was sure of that. They were the only two people, besides maybe Phoebe and Gerald or course. The only other two people, that were ever in their vehicles. All she could think about was how much of a enormous waste of time and tax payer money it all was.
Still, she watched them like a hawk almost the entire time, answering their stupid little questions about crap and just generally making sure they didn't break something. And it was just stressing her out. To the point of wanting a drink. She'd never been a regular drinker, enjoying a glass a wine maybe once a week, but she'd never wanted to drink so badly in her life as she did at that point. The anxiety had to be visible all over her. Had to be. It was rolling off of of her in too thick of bands to not be noticeable. And she just wanted something to numb the nerves. Or perhaps something to punch.
She was trying her best though.
Across the garage, one officer was rooting through some boxes that were stacked on the floor next to some storage shelves. He pulled a handful of jewelry out and declared, "I think I've got something." As Jeremy and Sid hustled to go see, Helga focused in on him like a laser, boring into the guy with a vengeance that she'd practically already made personal. Yeah, he thought alright.
The two detectives began pawing through the box themselves, retrieving a few necklaces, some rings, a bracelet or two and a few pairs of earrings. Holding a few of the pieces in his hand, Jeremy turned back and looked over at his ex-girlfriend with a questioning eye, "These yours?"
Helga felt her jaw clinch, wanting very much to snap his head off. She wanted to belittle him for being such an idiot, and had plans to do exactly that, but as she stepped closer to take a gander at what he was parading at her, she quickly discovered...that she couldn't. She couldn't because she had never, ever seen any of that jewelry before in her life. Her eyes flickered back to the awaiting faces of her ex-boyfriend and former classmate, not wishing to say anything about it, but knowing she couldn't. She had to be honest. "No," She replied, feeling the wind let out of her sails.
"Bag it," Sid told the awaiting officer.
Helga just stood there and stared as they pulled quite a few more pieces out of that box and placed them in little evidence baggies. Now her mind was really spinning. She wasn't a jewelry wearer. Certainly not to the point of her having spare crap in a random box out in her garage. She had a thumb ring, her engagement ring, a necklace that she'd had since she was eighteen, that she never took off, and a pair of pearl earrings in a small box upstairs. That was the extent to her jewelry collection. So what exactly was this other stuff, and why was it in her garage?
Why?
There had to be a logical explanation for it. There had to be! Because the alternative was absolutely ludicrous. Her husband wasn't a serial killer.
He just wasn't!
He couldn't be.
While she was lost in all that thought, Sid had come up to her and wearily touched her on the arm, "We need the keys to his car," He requested. She blinked and then looked out of the garage to see a flatbed tow truck slowly backing down her wooded driveway.
"You're taking it?"
Sid nodded, "We're having the lab process his."
Helga exhaled a depleted sigh and walked back into the kitchen to fetch Arnold's keys from the hook hanging on the wall, and regrettably, if not a little ruefully, plopped them into Sid's awaiting hand. The detective de-ringed the ignition key and handed it off to another officer who, proceeded to start the Four Runner, backing it out of the garage, and then up onto the flatbed.
God, it felt so intrusive. Them just...taking his stuff as they wanted.
Their stuff.
All so they could try to prove him guilty of something he didn't do.
While she was standing there, watching the whole thing, Sid was busy examining the rest of their suspect's key ring. "What are all these to?" He asked. Helga turned her attention back to him, with raised, yet annoyed, eyebrows. How done she was with that entire day.
"What?"
If Sid noticed her annoyance with him, and she wasn't exactly hiding it, he certainly didn't appear bothered by it, "These keys. What are they to?" It was an innocent enough question. Helga looked at the ring laying in his open palm, and began pointing to each one.
"House, parent's cabin, safe, spare to the tahoe, our safety deposit box and..." She stopped when her finger landed on the last key. It was smallish, with a short toothed shaft and a bean shaped body. It looked like it belonged to a padlock. But, it didn't go to anything that she was personally aware of, "I'm not sure about that one. It's probably for something at the hospital," She reasoned. And it was a perfectly logical line of reasoning. She knew that they had lockers and what not there. Maybe they had locks and keys too.
It seemed reasonable to Sid as well, who nodded, "Thanks," He replied and then bagged the keys in an evidence envelope.
Two days later.
Helga walked past the guard after being security checked and down to the awaiting counter, fronted by a slab of bullet proof plexiglass that she could see Arnold sitting behind. He looked like crap. Utter hell really. His face was all scruffy, his hair was a every which a way, and the bags were deep and black pits under his eyes. He definitely hadn't been sleeping well. Or at all. That was obvious. But, he was elated to see her, his green eyes gaining some much needed spark as he hurriedly picked up the phone while she sat down and grabbed the other end. "Hey," She smiled, wishing it wasn't as forlorn as it was.
"God, it's so good to see you baby," He breathed, shutting his eyes for a moment, appearing as if he were collecting his thoughts. She could only imagine what he'd been going through in that place.
She let out a tired sigh herself, "I know..."
"How is everything?" He asked, opening his fatigued eyes.
She shook her head, exhaling a frustrated sighed, "Well, they tore the inside of our house apart a few days ago. How's that for starters."
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you're having to deal with all of this."
Helga ran a hand through her hair as she nodded and then propped it up on the counter, "Arnold...they found some jewelry in a box in our garage...do you know what that is?"
His brow scrunched as he stared at her, "The garage?" He repeated.
"Yeah."
His mouth then turned downward into a scowl and he shook his head, "No, I don't know..." He trailed off briefly before correcting with, "Oh no, actually, yeah, it was probably some of the boxes I found in the attic. Remember a few weeks ago, I started dragging all that stuff out from the past owners?"
Helga nodded. She did indeed remember him rummaging through the attic and bringing down a few boxes that he threw out into the garage to discard later. "Yeah, yeah...of course," She half-smiled, "I just...I didn't even think about that when they were asking if all of it were mine."
"I honestly didn't even look through all of them as I was bringing them down. Looked like a bunch of junk," Arnold shrugged.
"And it probably is. But I think they think they've got something."
"Well, they can think that all they want, I guess. Anyway, how are you doing?"
She shrugged, throwing him a fake smile, "My should-be-husband is sitting in prison for murder. How do you think?" Immediately being regretful of saying it in such a low-key sarcastic manner. It wasn't as if he were deliberately doing it.
"I know," Arnold sighed, running his free hand over the top of his head, "Just...can you please not stress yourself out too badly? It's not worth it."
Helga rolled her eyes, "Really?"
"Look, this sucks. It really sucks. But...I think John is a competent guy. He's going to dice right through all of this crap, and make them look like fools," He reasoned with a subtle smile, "Alright?"
She slightly nodded as well, "He better for the amount of money we're paying him."
"Everything is going to be okay. The last thing I want is you turning into a ball of anxiety and stress, which we both know you like to do sometimes, and it stressing out our little one."
Helga snorted, "Yeah, little ole' me and my womanly hysteria. Criminey, football head."
Later that day, Sid and Jeremy stepped through the open door to Monica's apartment, casually observing the chaotic search for evidence already in full swing. They had surmised pretty quickly that they were no longer looking for a missing person who was going to turn up on their own. With that in consideration, the logical next step was for forensics to comb through her apartment, much like they had Helga and Arnold's house, looking for anything that might could tell him what happened.
"Anything notable?" Jeremy asked the guy in charge.
"So far the place has been clean. We've bagged a lot of hair evidence through each room."
"Good, just make sure they're marking exactly where each piece comes from, alright?"
"For sure."
Two days later. Arraignment. Court.
Arnold stood in the small court room, lined with light colored wood trim and the ugliest carpeted floors he'd ever seen. Made for resilience, not style obviously. It was early afternoon, and he was dead tired from the ongoing inability to sleep on an uncomfortable cell cot. His lawyer, John stood to the left of him and a woman he had yet to met or see prior stood some feet away from him, at a completely separate desk to his right. He assumed she was with prosecution. She looked like she meant business. One of those that would try to win at any cost types. They were only standing there for a few minutes before the judge slid in from a side door and took a seat at this bench.
"Your honor," The woman began addressing the sitting judge before them, "I'm prosecutor Clair McNeil appearing on behalf of the people."
John cleared his throat, "Good afternoon your honor, I'm John Tenant appearing on behalf of Arnold Shortman."
"Mr. Shortman, do you want to give us your name and address for the court record?" The judge asked as he peered over his black rimmed glasses.
"Arnold Phillip Shortman. One sixteen Redwood Road, Hillwood Washington," Arnold replied.
"Mr. Shortman I want to advise you that the charges brought about on May 24th of this year in your native home county, count one homicide murder in the first degree...that is with per-meditation of Britney Ross, Amy Fredrick, Morgan Harris, Marie Styles, Sarah Copland, Jessica Tolberson, Kelly Dennis, Stephanie Peterson, Taylor Mendez and two Jane Doe's. That is a felony, punishable by death. Do you understand the nature of the charge?"
Arnold briefly glanced at David who gave him a subtle nod before look back at the judge, "Yes."
"You have an absolute right to be represented by an attorney, noted by Mr. Tenant's appearance today on your behalf. In the event that you cannot afford an attorney, the court will appoint an attorney to act on your behalf. You have a right to a trial in this matter before the court or before a jury. You also have an absolute right to remain silent as anything in writing or anything you say could be used against you in court. You have a right to have Mr. Tenant present during any questioning you might consent to. Do you understand those constitutional rights Mr. Shortman?"
The blonde nodded, "Yes."
The judge's eyes slowly shifted towards John, "Mr. Tenant, how is Mr. Shortman pleading on this."
"Not guilty, your honor."
"Very well. Mr. Shortman, one of your important rights as a Washington citizen is the right to a preliminary examination on this felony charge at the district court level. At that preliminary examination, it will be the burden of the people, and the prosecuting attorney to establish probable cause to believe that crimes have been committed and that you committed them."
One Week Later.
Sid and Jeremy stepped off the elevator at Hillwood Medical, floor five which Arnold and Monica had primarily worked on together. It was a quiet floor. Very quiet, they pair noted as they strolled to the nurses station to see a few of them gathered and in mid-conversation with each other.
"Good afternoon ladies," Jeremy smiled, "Detective Kirk, this is my partner Detective Morettie," He thumbed to Sid, "We're hoping you all could answer some questions about Arnold Shortman and Monica Davenport for us."
The group of five women blinked at them and then exchanged a few looks between themselves, "Yeah, sure," The redhead sitting on the charting computer shrugged. "What do you guys want to know? Whether we think he did it?"
"Any of you recall Mr. Shortman behaving oddly or saying anything odd around the time Ms. Davenport went missing?" Sid asked.
"I mean...he was uppity about her disappearing," The small blonde woman, standing the furthest away from the counter pipped up, "But we all were...are. She's our friend."
"What was the relationship between the two?"
"Well, we're all colleagues. However, she is our head nurse so she does work a lot more with our doctors for patient care plans and what not."
"I see."
"But..." One of the other women chirped, "You're really asking if there something going on between them aren't you?"
"Just trying to gauge their dynamic is all," Sid replied with courteous smile. "But since you brought it up. Was there?"
The women blonde to the left of him tisked and shifted her weight onto one foot, "There was definitely something going on between them."
At that, Jeremy's chipped brow raised slightly, "Oh really?" Sid wasn't oblivious to his sudden interest either.
"No, there wasn't," The woman at the computer quipped back in a scolding manner at her co-worker, "Were they good friends? Sure. But it's hardly a crime for a man and a woman to be work friends these day."
"Speak for yourself..." Another one of the nurses replied, "Those two were constantly off together by themselves. Taking long lunches and what not. If there wasn't something going on, I'll be shocked."
"Oh please," Yet another chimed in, "I had to work with him one-on-one for two weeks over a month ago, covering for her while she was on vacation. Literally, all the guy could gush about was how excited he was that he was going to be a dad because apparently, he and his fiance' had been trying for a long time. Oh, and how excited he was to be marrying—his words now—the love of his life. It was so precious it was sickening. So, I'm sorry, but no...I don't believe for a second that he was fooling around with anybody, much less her."
"Okay, so..." Jeremy trailed off for a moment, and Sid noticed him spin his toothpick tucked in his cheek in a very agitated manor, "With that being said, do any of you have any reason to believe that he could have anything to do with her disappearance?"
Every one of the nurses gave them the most absurd looks they were capable of expressing, "Absolutely not."
"And I don't believe for a second either that he had anything to do with that craziness going on at his house either."
"Fair enough. One more question," Sid told them as he reached into his pocket and retrieved the small key he'd removed from Arnold's key ring and placed it on the counter top, "Does this belong to anything around here? A locker or something?"
The nurse sitting at the desk shook her head, "No. All of our lockers around here are combo types."
"Ah," Sid nodded and slid the key off the counter and returned it to his pocket, "Well, would one of you mind showing me where his is?"
"Sure," The nurse that had vehemently defended Arnold's honor motioned for the detectives to follow her. She lead them a short distance down the quiet hallway before turning into an off limits area, carding open a door and pointing to a wall of half-size school like lockers on a wall. "Number 18," She told them, "If you need anything else, I'll be back up at the nurses station," And with that, she turned and left the two men.
"You get anything out of all that gossip?" Jeremy asked with a annoyed sigh.
Sid raised an eyebrow at him, sending his mouth downward in a look of thought before subtly smirking, "Well, I now know that he and Helga apparently aren't so good at that whole...reproducing thing."
At that, his friend rolled his eyes and shook his head while folding his arms across his chest, "Really?"
Sid chuckled, "Boy howdy you're so easily flustered, but no, I didn't find much of value out of all that. Hopefully there is something good in this locker."
"Yeah, maybe..."
Sid grabbed the lock and gave it a brief examination, "Looks like a four number. Give me some guesses."
His partner sighed, "I don't know man...try his birthday."
"I know it's in October but I don't know the day..." Sid replied as he reached for the circular pad lock and began fidgeting with the dial.
"Then go through every day," Jeremy suggested, crossing his arms and proceeding to watch Sid spin through number after number, all thirty-one days of the month of October.
"Well that was a waste," Sid grumbled in agitation.
"Try his birthday year only…"
Sid tried, but without any luck.
"Try just this year," The fellow detective spun that in, again to no avail, "Try...One, Two, Three, Four..." Again, to no avail. "One, one, one, one." Nope. Jeremy sighed and ran his hand through his dark hair, thinking for a moment before finally rolling his eyes, "Try zero, three, two, six."
Sid spun the numbers in, only this time, the lock popped open like a champ, leading his eyes to cut back to his friend in a newly bewildered stare, "What the hell man?"
"It's Helga's birthday," Jeremy replied, rolling his eyes once more before nodding to the door, "Well, lets see what's in it then."
Sid unclasped the lock from the loop and pulled the door open. Arnold's locker was relatively bare, and the only things they immediately saw was a folded up tee-shirt, a half drunk bottle of water, and a small calendar attached by a magnet to the side. "Hmm...he's a minimalist."
"What were you expecting? A bloody knife?" Jeremy chuckled slightly as he reached around his friend and plucked the calendar from the locker.
"Maybe a note with all the answers. Is that too much to ask?" Sid replied with a half smile.
"Or maybe something to tell us what the key is for."
"Yeah, that too."
"He's got a pad lock for something, somewhere."
Sid snap pointed at Jeremy, eyebrows raised high in thought, "Her parents have a cabin. That we already have a main key too. He might have something there."
Sid went wandering into his and the guys favorite bar, giving a quick look around before seeing Brian wave at him from a corner booth. He marched over, sliding into the opposite side, seeing a beer already awaiting him, "Hey man, how's it going?"
"Eh, the usual. I got you a miller," He gestured to the bottle, "She just dropped it off."
"Thanks," Sid said, gratefully as he downed a hefty gulp.
"How was your week?"
"A lot of running in circles."
"Nothing new?"
"We just spent several hours at the hospital today interviewing Arnold's co-workers."
"Yeah? How'd that go?"
"Aggravating."
"Let me guess? Nobody saw a thing..." Brian chuckled darkly.
Sid took another swig of his beer, "I'll say. So you know about his missing co-worker right?"
"Yeah."
"Jay and I...we have this suspicion that she and Arnold may have been having an affair, and...maybe it has something to do with why she's missing."
"Hmm. What makes you think that?"
"It was just some things that Arnold said. We were hoping to get a better scope of their dynamic from their other co-workers," He then sighed tiredly, "Which ended up being fruitless because, nobody could agree if there was an affair or not. Half and half basically. Usually somebody knows something concrete."
"Wouldn't surprise me I guess," Brian shrugged and took a sip of his lager.
His friend's eyebrow curiously raised, wondering what he meant by that, "What wouldn't surprise you?"
"That he was sleeping around again."
"Again?" Sure. Sid and Jeremy had suspected there had been an affair going on between Arnold and Monica, but they considered is isolated. Yet, here was his friend and his suspects ex-roommate throwing some unknown history into the mix.
Brian snorted, "Really? Dude was a total collector of women," He began musing, taking a sip of his beer. Across the table, Sid gave him a funny look, spurring his friend to continue on, "He had a constant stream of girls in and out of our dorm. I thought I told you about all that?"
Sid vehemently shook his head, "Hell no. I definitely would have remembered that. You only ever bitched about his and Helga's noisy banging."
Brian rolled his honey brown eyes, and briefly looked off in annoyance, "Yeah, well that was ridiculous too."
"You know what," Sid took a huge swig of his beer, finishing it off and then flagging down the waitress for yet another, "Hey can I get another?" He quickly asked before turning back to his friend, "I apparently have no idea about this other side of Arnold that you're referring too, so...you were his roommate, why don't you tell me everything you know about him."
"Whatever dude, but I highly doubt his raunchy sex life is anything of value."
"If there is one thing I've learned about investigating, you just never know what you might find."
"Suit yourself. I discovered pretty immediately that he was a revolving door for girls. I've never seen a guy get so much freakin' pussy in my life. He'd pick up girls at like...study groups and coffee shops, bring them home, bang them and give them the walk of shame pronto."
"See, I didn't know that. And that's absolutely nuts to me that he would be like that––thank you," He quickly told the waitress as she sat his requested beer down in front of him, "I mean, let's pretend for a moment that he isn't a suspected serial killer. Arnold Shortman...womanizer."
"That's what I'm telling you," Brian gestured with an open palm, and shook his head, "It was wild. I never imagined him being the type that would use girls like that. For awhile I couldn't figure out if he was a sex addict or if he was just searching for something...I don't know, everybody has their flaws I guess. Maybe he was trying to fill some void in himself."
"Sounds like he was filling some voids alright…" Sid grimaced.
"So, this goes on for several years. Then he starts dating..." He motioned with a pair of sarcastic air quotes, "Taylor. I air quote because it was laughable considering all he did was sleep around behind her back."
"Alright so...pause for second..." Sid said, rubbing his temple in thought. "That makes sense now."
"Okay?" Brian tilted his beer up and took a swig.
"Sorry," Sid shook his head, "We had him and Helga in an interrogation room together just to see if, you know, anything of value got said between them and he admitted to sleeping with Taylor after Jay caught them. I always knew that she and him were messing around behind Jay's back, I just never realized it overlapped with Arnold dating Taylor as well. Of course I guess I've never had any reason to know that or...care until this point either."
"I hear you. But yeah, he was uh…banging chicks left and right while dating her, including Helga which…if I remember correctly...he ran into at one of Gerald's parties?" Brain trailed off in question. "Anyway, I'm sure he intended to hit and quit her but that didn't happen. Next thing I know, she's showing up at our apartment randomly and they're going at it as if...I don't know, he'd been away at war or something."
"And the rest is a crap show."
His friend snorted, "Yep. Jay barges in one night because I guess maybe he followed her or something."
"He found piece of a condom wrapper in his couch, and started connecting the dots. That's how."
Brian looked at him, kind of surprised, "No shit?"
"I know."
"Damn he is a detective isn't he?" Brian chuckled and so did Sid. "Good thing he never figured out I knew about the whole thing."
"Yeah, that was kind of a D-bag thing to keep to yourself."
"Give me a break, I didn't know him all that well at the time and I had to live with Arnold so..."
Sid waved him off, "Dude, I'm busting your balls. Though I would expect you to tell me if you saw Rhonda doing that. Like she ever would but—"
"—Obviously," Brain rolled his eyes with a snicker, "You're my bro."
"So, out of curiosity, did he keep his...revolving door of girls going after she and he became a thing?"
"No idea. But, I have to assume he didn't because he unabashedly brought girls home when he was dating Taylor, but I never saw one after Helga was in the picture. I guess maybe he found whatever he was looking for in her," He took another big gulp from his beer and sat the glass back down. "Go figure. It's like universe destined them to be together no matter how far away they went from one another."
"Now you're sounding sappy."
Brian snorted and shrugged, "It was just weird man."
Sid rubbed his chin, "Did she know about...how he was?"
"I mean, maybe she does now but at least while I was living with them, she was clueless of his past...wandering eyes," Brian then held out his index finger as he took a gulp of beer, signifying he intended to add detail, "And before you ask," He began as he sat his glass down, "I know this because he cornered me shortly after she moved in and begged me to never mention any of it to her."
"Wow..." Sid's eyebrow's rose up his forehead in surprise.
"Why do you ask? Going to take that nugget, she if she knows, try to create a little riff between them?" Brian snickered lightly, "If so, I would enjoy seeing that reaction."
Sid chuckled and only shook his head, "I'm trying to work a case, and you're over here all drama thirsty."
"Well, when it comes to your case, we're just going to have to see where the cards fall, however, him turning our dorm into a sorority brothel left a bad taste in my mouth, and honestly, after getting to know Jay a bit, I'd say she downgraded with Arnold."
"Hmm…well okay then."
Brian rolled his eyes, "Just offering my opinion of the situation I had to live through. I just don't think that somebody with a cheating mindset like that can ever really turn it off. And I always liked Helga. We were always cool throughout school and stuff. I mean…I think Rhonda downgraded with you too so…" He finished with a casual shrug and a smart-ass smile.
Sid was quick to shoot him an un-amused stare before taking a sip of his beer, and shrugging in a what-the-hey way, "Well, in my case…you're probably right," He said with a small chuckle. "But here's hoping she never realizes that," He then said, holding up his beer and taking another gulp.
"For all of our sakes," Brian chortled, "So, how's Jay doing with all of this?"
Sid sighed, reached up and scratching his brow, not really sure where to begin or even how to properly answer that question. "I honestly don't know from day to day. Sometimes I think he's going to be good with everything and other times I'm sure I'm going to have to request that he be removed."
"Man, I think you have to cut him a little slack. He's had an extremely bizarre situation fall in his lap and I think he's probably doing the best he can with it."
Sid shook his head, "Yeah, and I get that. He can just be hard to read sometimes is all. As good of friends as we are...boy howdy...I still really can't tell if it's spite or some lingering left over love that motivates some of his more questionable days."
"I think he'll be fine," Brian waved him off.
"Yeah. The guy is a first class detective and…I've been a little guilty of teasing him about some things, which…I know I need to stop doing so that he he can focus."
Next Day.
The following day Sid walked in for the morning, not immediately seeing his partner anywhere around, but clearly there, judging by his jacket on the back of his chair. He shrugged off his own suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair before walking to the break room to secure himself a fresh cup of coffee for the morning. He always had a small cup of some expensive arabica bean coffee that Rhonda bought at home, but call him crazy, he just couldn't go without the high octane, heart attack sludge that secretary Janice had awaiting for everybody every morning.
He poured him a heaping amount before dumping in some sugar and a little cream, seeing one of his fellow officers walk in. As he threw away his stir stick he turned, "Morning Bill."
"Hey Sid," The much older man grumbled, clearly not entirely awake yet.
"Have you seen Jeremy around?"
"Uh…I saw him in the video room when I walked by."
Sid took a cautionary sip of his high octane fuel for the day—perfect—thanked Bill, poured a second cup for Jeremy and strided off down the hallway to find his professional other half. When he peeked into the open doorway, he saw him fast forwarding a recording, which he immediately recognized as the tapes for Arnold's initial holding.
He lazily knocked his foot on the door well, it making a muted thud of and announcement, "What's up?"
Jeremy didn't turn around, recognizing the voice just fine, and choosing to keep his eyes on whatever he was looking for on the TV screen, "Hey," He did reply though. He hit the play button for a mini-second before fast forwarding a little bit more.
"What you looking for?" Sid curiously asked as he walked up and sat down beside his partner, placing his coffee cup in front of him. Jeremy didn't say anything immediately, but reached for his mug and took a quick sip.
"I've been replaying everything that Arnold said in my head over and over for the past few days and I realized that...something didn't sit right with me…and I couldn't figure out what until it hit me early this morning…" He hit play again, and again kept fast forwarding.
"What hit you?"
Jeremy pressed play for the third time since Sid had entered the room and let it play for a second before quickly pointing to the screen, "This!" He rewound the tape a few seconds and hit play again.
"She's still missing, and…she was my work buddy, or—" He hit the fast forward button once more a few seconds and stopped. "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—"
Jeremy hurriedly pressed the pause button before tilting his head at his partner, curious to see if he'd caught what had been so thoroughly bothering him since about 3:30 that morning. Sid quirked a brow, before returning his gaze, "He's referring to her in past tense."
"Yes," Jeremy remarked as he pointed at Sid and looked back the screen. "I mean, at that point as far as he was concerned, the both of them were and...I guess still are employees of Hillwood Medical. He works with her, not worked with her."
Sid scratched his chin a little in thought, "He either thinks she's deceased or...he knows she is."
"It was just an odd thing to say and...that's what bothered me out of the whole conversation they had."
"I agree that it's eyebrow raising, and worth seeing if it happens again if we ever get a chance to talk to him, you know...since he's lawyer'ed up and all," Sid then sighed, "But...we need to keep this to ourselves though. People will flip their tenses and it not mean anything."
Jeremy ran a hand over his hair and scratched the back of his head, "Yeah, I know."
Three weeks later.
"You got something for us?" Sid rapped his knuckles on the edge of the door, peaking into one of their labs with Jeremy right behind him. The girl in the white coat, Nina, looked up from the computer she logging a report into to see the two detectives looking hungry for an evidence crumb.
"Yup," She scooted backwards in her rolling chair to the counter behind her, snatching up a small stack of manila folders as the pair entered her work space. "I've got the results for all of the hair and finger print and DNA dustings for your Murder house case."
"Jesus Christ, your nickname has spread like wildfire..." Jeremy remarked, giving Sid an amused look as he shook his head. Sid spared him an eye roll before continuing to eagerly await some news they'd been drooling over.
"It's a good one," Nina admitted before she handed off one folder to Sid's awaiting hands, "No finger prints belonging to anybody besides Mr. Shortman or Ms. Pataki were found in their residence. Jewelry found in the box was mostly devoid of any physical evidence, however, there was one ring that contained faint amounts of DNA from Sarah Copeland."
"Seriously?" Jeremy said, snatching the folder out Sid's hands and cracking it open to see for himself. Nina was waiting to refill Sid's empty palms with a second folder though.
"No fingerprints other than Mr. Shortman's and Ms. Pataki's recovered from his, or her two vehicles, however, we recovered several strands of of hair that belonged to Monica Davenport out of his."
"Boy howdy..." Sid said in a monotone voice of shock, staring down at the folder in his hands, and feeling like his eyes were glossing over with overwhelmedness.
Nina didn't have time for him to come to terms with his case before she slapped the third folder down on top of the one that he was staring comatose at, "And we recovered quite a bit of hair belonging to Mr. Shortman out of Monica Davenport's apartment, a lot of it out of the drain catch in her shower, as well as other places such as the couch and out of the main bedroom."
"Okay...yeah...wow," Sid cleared his throat as he shook his head, finally looking up to stare at Nina, "We've got a lot to work with here," He wasn't really sure what else to say at that point, he was still in so much shock. "Thanks Nina."
"It's my job," She replied, in remarkably and scooted back to her computer, "Good luck with your case."
Next thing Sid realized, he was being tugged by the elbow out of Nina's lab by Jeremy, who was saying something but he didn't have the focus to really comprehend a bit of it. He was entirely too shaken to focus on anything around him. Up until that point. Everything about Arnold being involved with Monica's disappearance and the girls found of his property had been purely circumstantial and purely theory based.
But now. The concrete of evidence was beginning to...firm. It still didn't seem possible to him. He was a logical guy and he would go in whatever way the evidence pointed him to, but it still was just...too surreal for him in that moment.
"You hear me?"
"What?" Sid finally said as they walked, taking a deep breath.
"You okay?" Jeremy quirked his chipped brow at him.
Sid nodded, "Yeah, I'm just processing is all."
"Anyway, I said we need to go talk to Clair. See if this is solid enough for her to build on."
"Yeah...yeah right," His partner distractedly nodded, "We still don't have a body with Monica but—"
"—We have Sarah Copland's DNA, a girl who's body was found in his woods, on a ring that was in his garage. It's getting pretty clear at this point."
Sid nodded, "Yeah I know. It's pretty damning. You're right. I am just having to process this right now is all."
Jeremy stopped and peered at his friend, "There's a part of you that still doesn't believe isn't there?" Strangely enough, Sid noted that there wasn't any disbelief or mockery in his voice when he asked, nor was there any written on his face, which guided him into a withered sigh and a hand through his hair.
"I mean...I don't know what you want me to say. It is what it is I guess."
"Push him for a confession," Claire said, pulling off her reading glasses after looking through all three of the folders that Jeremy and Sid and presented her. She closed the folders and stood from her desk to hand them back.
"You think it's enough at this point?"
"No. I don't." She admitted, "However, I think we all know the direction that this investigation is taking. The sooner we get some closure for the families of these girls, the better. And that will happen much quicker if we can tighten the noose on him. I'm willing to take the death penalty off of the table if he pleads guilty."
Four Days Later.
Arnold and John sat together in an interrogation room a midst a very tense silence. Neither really sure what to expect out of the insistence of another interview. An interview that John had Advised his client not to say a word at. And on top of that they had been waiting entirely too long. No sooner than he'd had the thought of calling it off because they couldn't have the decency to be fucking punctual, Sid and Jeremy came slipping into the room.
To Arnold's great disbelief. He was astonished that his wife's ex hadn't been thrown off the case for a conflict of interest. So, with a sigh, he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, "Either he goes or I'm not talking to you," He nodded towards Jeremy. He wasn't trying to be a dick, but he didn't trust the guy further than he could spit.
"You heard him. Detective Kirk either leaves, or we're ending this now," John backed him up.
Sid looked over at Jeremy and shrugged. "I'll handle it." His partner rolled his eyes and left room.
"Thanks," Arnold said in a quiet voice.
His old classmate was a little taken-a-back by it as he sat down, considering all they knew now, and Arnold watched as he laid out three different folds in front of them. "We need to talk."
"Okay."
Sid flipped open all of the folders, "We found DNA from Sarah Copeland in your house."
"Who?"
"You don't have to answer," John said to his client, but Arnold shook his head, never looking away from Sid.
"One of the girls found in your woods."
Arnold looked confused, brow bunching up underneath his dirty blonde eyebrows and his mouth pulling down in a scowl, "That's not possible."
"You're smart Arnold, you know DNA doesn't lie," Sid replied.
"You're lying then."
"I'm not here to lie to you. I'm here to offer you a deal."
John, having finally heard enough, cleared his throat, "There will be no deal with anything. My client hasn't done anything wrong."
Sid took a withered breath. Goddamn these last few days had been rough for him, "Your client had DNA, in his house, from a girl found buried on his property. Additionally, hair from Monica Davenport was collected inside of your client's vehicle as well as his hair being collected inside of her apartment..."
The entire time, Arnold was steadfastly shaking his head 'no', "That is not possible."
Sid glanced at Arnold before returning his gaze to John, "Your client said that he'd never been in the presence of Ms. Davenport outside of the hospital, which is now being shown to be a lie."
"'Cause I haven't!" Arnold raised his voice and motioned his hand out with an open palm.
"Arnold..." John warned, before turning back the detective, "I want copies of all your reports. And we're done here."
Two Days Later.
"You alright? They feeding you enough in there?" Helga asked into the phone, laying back on her bed after an extremely long day at work. Her only bright spot was that she knew that she'd get to talk to him that night. 8:00 right on the dot too, her phone rang for her twenty minutes of peace.
"It's not very good. Definitely not like what we cook."
"I know...it's not forever though."
"Yeah..." She heard him trail off a little, "So...anything special you want to talk about?"
"Floors..." She said before she could even stop herself.
But he chuckled a little and asked, "You want to talk about floors?"
Helga sighed, rubbing her fingers into her closed eyes, "I just want to feel normal for a moment," She tiredly admitted. Truthfully, she didn't really want to talk about floors, she just wanted to pretend he was on a business trip and they were just talking as if everything wasn't a pile of shit and he'd be home for the weekend.
"Well, let's talk about floors then. They are pretty cool, you can walk on them and sometimes roll aroun—"
Helga chortled, dropping her hand and actually allowing herself to crack a much needed smile, "Ha...ha. I'm talking about for our house."
"I know. I'm thinking the Coppertone color that we looked at."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I think it will match the age of the house. It's got that...farm house quality to it."
"See I was thinking more along the lines of the tawny."
"That was my second favorite."
"They're pretty similar I think."
"Yeah...I think the Coppertone is a little more knotty though."
Helga snorted, "Did you just say knotty or naughty?"
On the other end, Arnold laughed himself, "Definitely both when comparing it to the tawny. It's the sexier sister."
"Uh huh..."
"We can flip a coin or you can get the tawny, I'll be fine with either but...I think the Coppertone is going to look really good with the color of our walls and...it's going to look really great with the nursery theme we have picked out."
Helga exhaled, looking around at the color of their room as she subconsciously rubbed her stomach, "Yeah, that is true. Speaking of the nursery, I've got to get started on that sooner than later."
"Hopefully I can help."
"You will," She insisted, trying to remain positive.
"Have you felt her move yet?"
"Nope. Not yet."
"That pretty normal?"
"It seems so."
"Hey so...what do you think of Jeremy?"
Helga frowned, not really sure where that had come from, "What kind of question is that?"
"You think he's trustworthy?"
"I mean, yeah...unless he's had a serious departure from ethics since I last knew him. Why?"
"I don't know...I don't really trust him. Especially when dealing with my livelihood."
"Well, I'm sure John could probably file a something or other and have him removed for conflict of interest."
"Yeah, I might have him do that."
"I don't think he would fabricate evidence against you or anything if that's what you're worried about."
"You don't think? I think the guy still has a lot of anger in him."
"Well...okay, so this isn't me trying to tell you what to do but...he'd be risking a lot just to fuck with you...and me."
"Yeah true..."
Three weeks later.
Jeremy and Sid and just pulled onto the interstate, headed north up into the mountains to have a peek around Bob and Miriam Pataki's cabin and to meet up with the forensic crew that was already on the way to conduct the search. Who knows what they'd find there, but Sid was hoping to find what that key went to. Based on the last conversation he'd had with Arnold and his lawyer, he wasn't going to volunteer information over to him, so the hunt continued.
Sid had barely merged off of the ramp when his phone began buzzing. He hurriedly answered, "Moretti...what? Nah, we're on the way to conduct a search warrant right now...you can't get some one else? Alright...alright...we're on our way," Sid hung up and huffed, tossing the phone back the inner console.
"What now?" Jeremy un-enthusiastcally asked.
"We're getting pulled off of this to go secure a body found in storage unit."
"Oh brother...they couldn't send someone else?"
"Apparently not." Sid pulled off at the very next exit, getting back on the intersection and heading back from which he came. In the mean time, Jeremy phone their crew, alerting them that their presence would not be non-existent on their cabin search. It took the two men no time at all to get over 5th street and into a storage unit complex owned by a national chain. It wasn't hard to figure out where they needed to go either, they literally just followed the cop cars sitting around, some with lights on, some without. They had at least put up the caution tape.
Sid parked and they both exited his cruiser, marching towards the open unit with everybody standing around...immediately being hit full force with the most wretched smell of death imaginable. "Jesus Christ..." Jeremy shook his head, eyes getting wide, "Should have brought some vicks rub..." He swallowed hard. By that point, they had walked up on the first officer outside of the unit, "What in God's name is going on in there?" He asked, the two men taking a glance and immediately seeing nothing but a stack of boxes lining the back, a deep freezer and a few car batteries.
"Got a call from security at this place about the smell come from here. You're going to want to take a look at this." Both men held their breaths as the walked into the small unit behind the officer, "Uh...deep freezer, being kept on by the hot wiring to these few batteries. Either they ran out of juice or, the wiring failed and...well, we've got what we have here."
Sid reached into his pocket and retrieved his gloves, wiggling them on, before apprehensively grabbing a hold of the indented handle of the deep freezer, giving Jeremy a brief look before opening it. "Oh good God..." Both of their eyes went wide and Sid wasn't willing to leave that door up any longer than neccisary for them to figure out what they were dealing with. And it wasn't pretty. "We need to get forensics and the coroner down here. ASAP."
All three men walked back out of the unit as quickly as possible, happy to catch the fresh air awaiting outside. Jeremy then turned back to the officer, as Sid was pulling out of his phone to make the call, "Is the owner or...the manager of somebody around here?"
"That's me," A tall dark skinned man standing off from the unit said. Jeremy and Sid turned to see him and he walked over with unsure steps.
"How you doing? I'm Detective Kirk, this is Detective Moretti," He thumbed at his partner.
"My name is Leon," He guy introduced himself, "I'm the manager here."
"Do you know whose unit this is?"
"Um yeah...I uh...I looked up the number when Paul...the security guard informed me of the odor. I wanted to call the renter of the unit but he insisted that we call the police first." As the man finished, Sid paused his phone call, wanting to hear what the guy had to say.
"You did the right thing."
Leon looked back inside the unit, grimacing a little as he recaptured the awaiting gazes of the pair of detective in front of him, "Uh, right...the renter of that unit is a Helga G. Pataki. I have all of her other information in my office up front if you want to follow me?"
Sid stared at the guy for a moment more before turning and looking back at the freezer inside the unit. "Oh boy howdy..."
A/N: So Brian had some interesting back story on Arnold. It seems like almost everybody has a different story about Arnold, including himself. So, who is he? And what the heck is going on?! Stay tuned. Also, if you got theories, talk to me. I love hearing what everybody thinks is going on.