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!

Cardinal121212: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Yeah there is some more darkness unfortunately. We're coming up for air a bit before diving back down and hopefully coming back up for the end. Stay tuned!

Soopahdope: Thank you for the kind words. I think a lot of readers agree with you on that theory. We'll see!

LeSkuh: He's becoming a popular suspect. Its funny how it flips back and fourth between him and Jeremy.

Veganmama: Congrats on the baby! No worries, she and Arnold are going to have a come to Jesus once all the chaos wears off.

1UPGirl: Thanks for giving it a chance! I really appreciate your eyeballs and kind words!

Esmeralda: That is definitely an interesting theory. It could be somebody that we haven't talked about. Yes, Helga and Arnold both have some problems with each other the need to work out and perhaps being co-parents will be the perfect foil to achieve that.

anomarlly: But wait! There's more!

acosta perez jose ramiro: He did mess up but I think Helga did too. They both have crap to work out with one another.

A/N: What's happening gang that doesn't review? Lol. Not as many twists in this chapter but…new information as we begin to wind down to the finale.

Violent roleplay, codeine, champagne.

"How's your mom?"

Jeremy smiled, "She's good. Madison got married recently," He told her, referring to his sister.

"Ah. Well," Helga held her glass out to him, "Cheers to her then."

"Cheers," He clinked his glass against hers.

They both brought their beverages to their lips for sips. "So, how was your Christmas?" Jeremy then inquired.

"It was okay. Glad it's over," Helga's brow raised as she tabled her glass before choosing to run a hand through her messy hair, and at that point, opting to just throw it up into a haphazard bun in a half-baked attempt to not feel like a complete mess in front of company. Though she was a mere two weeks postpartum, it was expected, "My sister wanted me to fly to Texas to spend it with her family," She rolled her eyes.

Even Jeremy's brow furrowed in confusion over that one, "With a two week old?"

"Fucking ridiculous right?" Helga scoffed, leaning her elbow onto the counter top.

Her guest chuckled quietly, "I'm not all that surprised I guess. She was always trying to get you to come stay with her."

The blonde groaned, remembering all the whining and begging that Olga used to do when she was a teen and in early college. Always wanting her to come 'spend a week' with her and Hamp, "I don't even know why. It's not like we're close or anything," Reaching for her glass, she took a quick sip. To be fair it wasn't exactly Olga's fault. Nor was it Helga's. They were just too far apart in age to ever have that close nit, sisterly connection, "At this point I doubt we ever will be, but come on…it's a little tone deaf to suggest for someone to fly a thousand miles with a newborn right?"

"It's Olga," Jeremy reminded with a shrug, taking a lingering sip from his glass. No, he had not forgotten the eldest Pataki daughter and her innate ability to be so unaware of the world around her. He understood Helga's irritation.

"I know," She tiredly sighed, "She means well I think but I just tune her out most of the time. Anyway…how was your Christmas?"

"Uh…not bad. Just went over to my mom's like always. Nothing special I guess," He shrugged, giving her a small smile.

"Be glad that you have that type of monotony in your life," She advised, smirking as she ran her finger around the rim of her glass, "You definitely take it for granted," She sighed, as her eyes wandered away from him and onto her fidgeting hand. She would kill for just a dash of normalcy at that point and she wouldn't be lying if she said she very much envied his ability to be casually embarrassed by his ordinary holiday.

"Trust me…" He put on a reassuring smile, "I've been doing this job long enough to be very thankful for mundane routines and traditions."

"I don't know how you do it," Helga lifted a brow, still staring at her hand, "Dealing in so much death all the time," She slowly brought her glass to her lips, mind wandering away in thought. Supposing they'd actually stayed together, she wasn't sure she could have lived with a man who had such a morbid career choice. Though it was entirely possible that she only thought that way given all the death and destruction that had enveloped her in just a years time. Finding the jaw bone of a human being had been traumatizing enough. She couldn't fathom working a death scene on the daily. In fact, she'd always thought his love for true crime tv was morbid enough

"You get numb to it I suppose. I mean…it's not like I'm out seeing dead bodies every single day. A lot of the time it's just crime scenes and knocking on doors and paperwork. Never ending paperwork. Still…" His mouth briefly scowling but not expressing much more emotion than that, "Somebody has to be the one to hunt down monsters."

"Do you think you'll catch him?" Helga tabled her glass, "Since it's obviously not Arnold."

Jeremy gave her a subtle smirk and a nod before retrieving his wine, "I hope we do. We seem closer everyday," Titling the glass to his lips he finished it, "He's an asshole…for a lot of reasons, but he shouldn't be sitting in jail for something he didn't do." He tabled the drink ware, shooting her mildly apologetic look, "Sorry." Though he wasn't sorry at all. Wronged or not, he had no love for the guy, and he was positive the feeling was mutual.

Helga merely sighed and limply shrugged a shoulder, having no want or will or energy to dispute the dig as she brought her glass to her parted lips, "You aren't wrong," She swallowed and sat it back down, "On either," She admitted and left it at that. The complexity and complicated nature of her relationship with Arnold, once again being shoved to the forefront of her ever fatigued mind. A stabbing reminder that the dust was far from settling in terms of them. No matter. It wasn't exactly something she felt like dwelling on that night, "Do you want another glass?"

Her former flame smirked, chocolate brown eyes falling to his empty drink, "Only if you want me to have another one." Was his diplomatic stance, seeing as he wasn't confident on his ability to read her mood. Was she simply being polite or actually desiring his company? Her ability to keep people at arms length made her very difficult to decipher, and he supposed that was part of the reason she did it.

But Helga was thinking about neither, only a bottle of wine she needed to rid herself of, though his company wasn't terrible if she were being honest. A nice change of pace from her parents, who's company she'd been most in as of late, "I really don't want to throw most of it away. My mom's coming over a lot at the moment so…" Miriam was sober, and she had been for a few years by that point, but Helga still always did her best not to throw alcohol in her face.

Jeremy reached for the bottle, uncorking it, refilling his crystal, "I have to drive home you know. It'd be a shame if I wrecked because of another deer and your dad accused me of drinking again," He winked, taking a sip.

"As long as I wasn't in the truck, I promise he wouldn't care," She cast him a rare playful, but tired smile and he wasn't entirely sure if it were from lack of sleep or the rough year. Perhaps it was an amalgamation of everything.

"Yeah you're probably ri—" His sentence was abruptly ended when they both whipped around, peering through the doorway after hearing a long baby coo, sounding almost as if she wanted to cry. Helga slid from her stool and tiptoed into the living room, peering over the swing to inspect Hunter before securing her little swaddle blanket. Jeremy took the opportunity to move them closer, grabbing both glasses and then the bottle and relocating to her couch. The blonde turned, seemingly surprised by his close proximity, yet he shrugged as he sat down, leaving the bottle and her glass on the coffee table, "Figured you might want to be more comfortable…and closer to the ruler of the house," He chuckled.

Helga's momentary surprise melded into that of agreement, if not appreciativeness of observant nature, "Thanks…" She leaned over and retrieved her glass and before she could even think about slinking down into the comfy confines of the couch an obnoxious clatter of scratching began on the back sliding door, her hell hounds wanting in. She strode to the door, sliding it open for them to slip in from the snow, tails wagging as they shook their bodies free of moisture and bits of whatever else they'd picked up in their night time adventures.

And then they noticed her guest.

Tails tucked as they began their growling and crowding protectively around Helga's feet, "Huh uh, nope," She snapped her fingers at them, pointing away, "Go get in your chair." She sternly ordered and they begrudgingly did as they were told, hopping up into the old worn thing and laying down, but never taking their scrutinizing eyes off of Jeremy. "Despite what it probably seems, I really do love them. They just get on my nerves," She said with an air of chuckle in her tone, finally taking her seat on the couch but not before pouring herself just a touch more wine.

Jeremy chuckled quietly, "Do they hate everybody or just me?"

Bringing her legs up under her, Helga propped her elbow on the back cushion and laid her head in her palm, resting her glass on her leg as he looked at him, "They've been kind of sheltered. But they're also beagles and can't help but howl at everything they see."

"I can see where that would be a problem with a baby."

Helga tilted her head in partial agreement, "Well…I want her to get used to it, but she hasn't quite yet, so in the meantime, every time they open their traps she wakes up," She turned and eyeballed the two beagles with slit eyes who in turn, perked up and began wagging their tails at her, even if they still had a distrustful side-eye on Jeremy, "Yeah I'm talking about you. So…any fun plans for the new years?" She didn't know what the hell else to make conversation about. It seemed like a good go-to topic.

"Uh…" He twirled his glass around casually in pondering thought, "Probably going to be flying to Florida with my mom in about a month."

Helga grimaced a tad. A trip to Florida only meant one thing for the Kirk family, "Another parole hearing?" Though it was the first time she'd ever heard of him going as well.

He nodded, "It's like they want to let that fucker out or something," He took an agitated gulp of wine and then shook his head in disgust, "So, I think I'm going to go and talk to them."

"Do you think he'd kill somebody else if they let him out?"

"I don't know," Jeremy shrugged, "Probably. I think he would definitely go back to gang-banging and getting wacked out on meth. As if the world doesn't have enough of those. But…it has always worried me that he would try to track down my mom if they ever released him, and I would definitely kill him if he did."

"Yeah, that would concern me too," Helga agreed, "Besides, he robbed a nineteen year old kid of a life and then had no remorse for it…that doesn't deserves a second chance. Regardless of time served. In my opinion anyway."

"Exactly. It's kind of common sense at this point, you know?"

Helga nodded and took a sip of wine, "I'm sorry you're still having to deal with that." Not too long ago, she thought that she herself might be dealing with a similar situation forever as well.

Thankfully, that was no longer the case.

"Well…I'm choosing to so my mom doesn't have to," He explained with a tired sigh, and she could tell by the cloudiness that his face took on, that it was still a source of great personal angst for him. A year into dating her was what it took for him too open up about his father. Up until that point, she'd only ever known that he just wasn't around. He had been embarrassed. Something that Helga had been able to relate to a lot at the time. Miriam had been such a raging alcoholic she barely ever knew what day it was much less was capable of being presentable in social settings. "Thankfully it's not something that you or Hunter will have to deal with now. Not that parol would have been a worry if…if Arnold had been guilty but…it's just…being connected to someone so vile can feel like having an unshakable black cloud."

"Trust me…I laid awake a lot thinking about how exactly I was supposed to get away from his shadow. How I was going to raise his kid and what the hell kind of child I would even be raising," Helga began explaining. She'd never viewed Hunter as a monster or ever once thought about giving her away—and honestly she hoped her sister felt like absolute shit now for making the suggestion—but there had been a few times where she she'd experienced a lot of self loathing for not picking a better father for her. "I thought about you and Morgan a lot."

Jeremy tilted his head at her and smiled, "Really?" He appeared as surprised as he was flattered.

"Don't take this the wrong way, because you know how much I loved your mom," She prefaced with a request, "But you and your sister turned out really well in spite of…" She trailed off, still trying to find a way to say what she wanted to say as delicately as possible.

"The shit show that was her love life?" Jeremy filled in for her—rather bluntly—but it was his mother and as far as she was concerned, he could term it whatever way he liked.

"Yeah…I guess in the same vein as Miriam being a drunk for most of my childhood. We still turned into well adjusted adults for the most part." She dearly hoped that that would be the case for Hunter as well.

"You know, when I was a teen, I was always so afraid of being like Chumo," Jeremy began, referring to his father as his eyes fell onto a cushion, seemingly ensnared in his emerging thoughts, "I had a lot of anger inside from him. I still do. I feel like I could have been like him had I not been more self aware and not watched him smack my mom around so badly," Helga watched as his brooding eyes flashed from stormy to something like sadness in a snap, "I feel like I've become more like my mom if anything. Which has been more crippling I think."

Helga didn't know exactly what personal trait of Lisa's he was referring to, though she had a suspicion. Still, she wasn't a prying person and she certainly wasn't in the spirit for investigation that evening either. Whatever it was, she could at least sympathize with the overall struggle of confronting negative parts of ones self.

"I made a point to never be like my mom…" She pointed out, "I accidentally became an asshole like my dad instead," She sighed, "Sometimes you can't run I guess."

Jeremy nodded, "The perks of a less than idyllic childhood."

"I think it's what makes you and I more aware of ourselves than others. We had to be adults a lot faster in life…" Helga's eyes wandered to the sliding door as she trailed off thinking that if her daughter never had to worry about growing up before it was time for her to do so, she personally would feel more accomplishment then anything else she could ever do in life, "Maybe that's why we were drawn to one another in the first place," She finally blinked and inhaled.

Jeremy scowled in a way that suggested it was a fresh revelation for him too. He then took a sip from his glass, "Yeah maybe. Though I do remember thinking you were a complete badass in middle school because you refused to carry a book bag," A reminiscent smirk slid to his face recalling the very first time he'd ever laid eyes on her.

"That was it huh?" Helga offered her own smirk back at him, effectively recalling so long ago and their very first interaction in eighth grade. She was also thankful for the light hearted change of direction.

"I knew I had to get your number," He chuckled, "Eventually."

Helga allowed a small chuckle to escape from her lips, realizing that it had been a long time since she had heard herself laugh at anything. Something her mind lingered on for only a fleeting moment before finishing the last little swallow of wine in her glass, leaning forward and setting it on the coffee table, "God, that seems forever ago," Was her reply as she tried to thwart a yawn.

Tacoma.

"You doing alright ma'am?" The EMS responder asked Monica, who was strapped to a gurney in the back of an ambulance in route to the nearest general hospital. Her eyes were heavy, shifting open and close, open and close as her body racked with violent shivers. The thin blanket draped over her would have to suffice. Upon checking her temperature again she registered a 103.2 fever.

Hillwood.

Sid sat in his study, laptop open, replaying that footage from the security camera over and over, hearing the echoey voice of Rhonda saying, "You know who that reminds me of?"

Was he starting to see things that weren't there? Or was he just…following through with the comment so that he could eventually step back and call it as ridiculous as it had sounded when she first said it.

He wanted it to be ridiculous but…it seemed to have legs…walking across and then back across that road. "Hey, I'm about to start this movie," Said wife leaned into the room, propping against the door jamb with crossed arms, and clad in silk pajamas, "Oh my God…" She immediately rolled her eyes, seeing him once again watching that security footage, "You're still watching that?"

Sid swiveled around in his office chair casting her a very exhausted expression before saying, "You've kind of got me in knots about it." Was the only thing he could think to say because it was the God's honest truth of the matter.

Rhonda clearly was not at all troubled by it, judging by her sigh and seemingly indifference to his knotted psyche, "It was kind of a joke. I mean…not to be mean or anything but…he's not exactly one in a million, you know? There are a lot of guys that look like that."

She was right.

She was absolutely right.

It was dumb.

Dumb, dumb, dumb of him to even let himself run with it. His tendency to be paranoid—something he'd mostly grown out of by his teens—was obviously coming to the surface with that. "You're right." With a sigh, he nodded in agreement before shooting her a side smirk and asking, "Am I one in a million?"

Rhonda rolled her brown eyes, but reciprocated his playful smirk with her own, "One in a billion babe. Trillion in fact," She pushed off of the door jamb, turning to head to their bedroom, "Now come on, the popcorn is probably already cold."

"It kind of was," Jeremy agreed with a chuckle, downing the last of his booze and setting it on the coffee table along side Helga's. "I think that is it for me tonight."

Helga's left eyebrow lifted as she tilted her head at him, "You sure? There's still plenty left."

Jeremy smiled, "Not unless you're itching for me to stay the night."

"Depends," The blonde quietly snorted, "How good are you with babies?"

"Won't know until I try," Her guest shrugged and chuckled in reply before pushing himself to his feet, stretching a bit as he did. Helga followed suit, subtly glad to see him preparing for his exit. It wouldn't be much longer until her little one stirred.

"On second thought…I don't remember you doing very well in that childhood development class you took in eleventh grade," She recalled as she followed him down the foyer and to the front door.

Jeremy laughed, remembering just how much he had regretted that elective course, "You mean putting the fake baby in my gym bag to take home was not the correct thing to do?"

Helga rolled her eyes, but smirked, "Entirely."

"Well," He grinned, "I promise I learned from my failing grade."

"That is a relief."

The quiet little bit of laughter between them died quickly, leaving a semi awkward spat of silence that Jeremy elected to fill with a more earnest, and considering look, "All joking aside if you ever need any help you can always call me."

While she appreciated his thoughtfulness and generosity, the idea of soliciting any help from him left her feeling mortified by her own lacking. She already felt like she was throwing in her independence towel by soliciting help from her parents, which in itself was ridiculous because they were grandparents and they wanted to help, "You know I won't," Was her simple reply, saying aloud what she was sure he already know, despite the offer.

"I wish you would," He responded in a much quieter voice, looking almost like he hadn't meant for it to come out, yet stepping into it regardless with his ever softening expression and the way he kept looking at her.

And it wasn't a path Helga wanted to go down. Not then. Probably not ever. She put on a tired smile and nodded once, "Thank you again for the wine and company."

He returned her smile, surprisingly not looking as thwarted as she'd figured he might by her maneuvering around his loaded declaration, "Anytime," He nodded. He then turned and pulled open her front door, slipping through the storm glass before turning and saying, "Goodnight Helga."

"Goodnight Jay." With one last smile, he exited the porch, hearing her shut the door behind him, and had just gotten into his truck when he felt his phone vibrating in his front pocket.

After some aggravating maneuvering, he slipped it out and brought in to his ear, "Hey man, what's up?" He asked as he cranked the vehicle, putting it in reverse, "No fucking way. I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."

Tacoma.

Sid and Jeremy marched across the cold, lamp lit parking lot of the general hospital another county over after receiving a call that changed the trajectory of their case entirely. Their missing girl, was no longer missing. Yet they still remained in the dark about every detail other than she had literally run out of the forest in the blanket of night with nothing but her name.

The commotion was apparent. The numerous unmarked patrol cars crowding the lot were every indicator of that. The two young detectives knew that they were going to be meeting a fellow Tacoma county detective named Knox but they hadn't a clue about where exactly he would be. Thankfully they saw a rather tall guy, middle aged with grey beginning to percolate through the dark brown hair around his temples and ears, sporting a badge on his belt. Whether it was Knox or not, he was at least the first stop.

"Detective Moretti," Sid immediately held his hand out for the stranger to shake, "Are you…?"

"Detective Knox," The guy replied in a weathered tone, reciprocating the handshake.

"Detective Kirk," Jeremy held his hand out to shake as well.

"If you want to come with me, we'll step someplace more private," He motioned for them to follow him through the double doors to where they took patients back. Sid and Jeremy anxiously followed him, only to be escorted to a rather noisy room with another detective and several cops. He didn't enter the room though, stopping short to turn back around to the pair, "We're working out of this room until she gets out of surgery." He said before peering into the room and motioning for his partner to join them.

"She's in surgery?" Jeremy repeated. Knox nodded as he turned back around.

"This is my partner Detective Bedford," He motioned his hand to the middle aged African-American man stepping out of room, case folder and iPad already in hand and Sid suspected they had already logged a pile of evidence, "This is Detective Morreti and Kirk."

"How's it going guys?" Bedford asked, his voice peppered with what could only be described as sheer astonishment by the situation.

"So how bad is it?" Sid finally asked the burning question, "Is she going to be okay?" God knew, everything about this case was suddenly riding on her at that point.

Everything.

"They are considering her prognosis guarded at his point," Knox explained.

"What's going on?"

Bedford handed over the iPad already open to the photos app, "See for yourself. Doctor said that she has four broken ribs, all the fingers on her right hand are broken, a broken wrist, a detached retina, severe vaginal and rectal tearing, and a kidney infection that was causing a 103 degree fever because she was going septic," He continued, "She's in surgery to remove one of those kidneys."

"Jesus Christ..." Sid muttered as they swiped through photos the hospital had logged. She didn't even look anything like her missing photos. Had she not identified herself, nobody would have guessed it was her. Her face was so swollen, yet hollow, and her poor body looked like a tangled wreck of bruised and beaten limbs.

Jeremy's chocolate eyes widened, "That creep beat the shit out of her," he muttered.

"And that girl still managed to somehow make it out of those woods," Bedford said, shaking his head, still in amazement of Monica's resilience. "She's lucky somebody was driving by and stopped."

"Have you found where she came from? Other than the woods?"

"We're putting together a search party as we speak. The snow is slowing that down some."

6:00 am

Wails. It amazed her how such a tiny little being could be so loud. Even her mouthy beagles shied away. What was all the fuss? Helga couldn't get Hunter back in her pajamas fast enough after a diaper change. "Oh goodness," She teasingly cooed in such a playful voice it even surprised her, "You're okay. You are. I promise," She smiled as she brought the inconvenienced infant to her chest, soothing her turmoil almost immediately. Walking over, she sat down on the couch, preparing for some morning snuggles.

The TV was already on, purely just to make some noise, but she hadn't ruled out starting some mindless show to pass the time. She had barely had time to fish out the remote to channel surf when her phone began vibrating in her hoodie pocket. She figured it was Miriam calling to ask if she wanted her to grab any breakfast before she came over, but she was surprised if not suspicious of it being Lance ringing her so early.

She carefully maneuvered the phone to her ear, "Hey Lance," She said in a quiet voice, intently listening to the man before her sleep deprived morning eyes opened up into alert blue saucers, "Holy smokes…"

Tacoma

Sid sat on the tailgate of Jeremy's truck, lacing up a pair of snow boots he'd been loaned by Tacoma County for their assisted search grid in the woods. Monica was out of surgery and doing better, but not awake to answer any questions and probably wouldn't be for many hours as they battled her sepsis.

His first inclination was to think that, given her poor health, she couldn't have possibly traveled far from where she had been held captive, then again, he never liked to misjudge ones ability to sustain themselves on pure adrenaline. He'd seen some amazing wills to survive, but Monica might take the trophy.

The young detective slid from the tailgate, joining his partner at the edge of woods with everybody else that would be assisting in the search. Sid could see the remnants of disturbed snow leading from the tree line to the road, clearly from where Monica had burst out of the woods and onto the road almost as if the forest had spit her from its toothy jaws. The trail wasn't noticeable to the untrained eye, very much covered over from the fresh snow.

Standing over next to an unmarked SUV, a bearded, toboggan clad man stood holding a slightly oversized remote control between his hands that had a phone strapped to it. Neither Sid or Jeremy were above a good old fashion search, but the use of a drone was gong to make this infinitely better if they could locate something from above first.

"So…I'm about a mile and three fourths in. Almost straight back. There's maybe a structure of some sort. It's very hard to tell because of the tree cover and snow.

"You got coordinates for that?" Knox asked.

"Yep," He looked over to see if the detective had his GPS ready.

Knox maneuvered his handheld from his ski pants, turning on the screen, "Go ahead."

"Latitude four, seven point two, six, six, eight, eight, three…longitude negative one, two, two point three, five, seven, six, zero, nine."

"Got it," Knox confirmed before looking up at everybody, "Let's get moving then."

The thicket of the woods was dense in many areas. Sid could make out Monica's trail through certain parts, only to see it disappear along much of the walk. Almost two miles in snowy woods might as well have been ten. They had fanned out a bit, but not as much as they would on a missing person walk. The intent was to make it to this potential structure to either rule out or confirm its involvement.

And low and behold.

After about forty five minutes of trudging through the snow and thicket in the freezing cold they did find something. A little more than something. "That's a Goddamn shipping container…" Bedford said in wonder as everybody stared at this thing, sitting quietly in the middle of the woods, looking as much out of place as it did at home.

It had been spray painted brown and green. A homemade camouflage getup with random assortments of brush and leaves placed on top to provide aerial coverage. If they hadn't had been looking for something with the drone, it probably would have been missed entirely.

While Knox busied himself with making calls, Jeremy walked up to Sid, his eyes roaming the structure, "This things been here awhile." Sid initially quirked his eyebrow at his partner, but upon looking he understood where the assertion was coming from.

"Yeah…look at how far he had to dig out for those doors to open."

"Hey Bedford?" Jeremy called out to the fellow detective, "You know if they've ever done anything with this land?"

"Man," He shook his head, "I think they may have logged it sometime in the sixties,"

"You guys want to go take a peek?" Sid motioned to the ajar door as he began slipping on the pair of latex gloves he always carried with him.

"Dying to. You got a flashlight on you?" Bedford asked as he walked up next to the two men.

"I've got one," Jeremy pulled the pocket light from his jacket and clicked it on. At the container door, the trio noticed a chain hanging from one of the handles, a simple padlock dangling on it. Sid grabbed it, naturally wanting to inspect it, and seeing a misshapen bobby pin jammed up into the key hole.

"Well," He began, showing the other two detectives, "That's how she did it."

"Alright I need you guys to fan out and see if you can find some sort of small access road or trail," Knox began telling the accompanying officers, "The forensics unit is on its way and we need to figure out the fastest way for them to get back here."

Sid released the lock and pulled open the heavy container door, stepping aside to allow Jeremy to shine the light in for them to see what sort of horrors awaited their anxious, unsuspecting eyes.

It didn't disappoint.

"Good God almighty…" Bedford breathed.

Sid agreed. Because he could only describe what he was seeing as...just creepy. Evil.

It was dingy, with no source of light other than what looked like black lights running down each length of the wall. Dried, dead leaves littered the bottom. Coats of dried blood were smeared all over the inner metal walls. His eyes continued following the beam of light around until Jeremy tilted it to the far corner, both of their eyes widening over the small space heater hot wired to a car battery next to an old worn mattress with frayed sides. "That's the same setup as the storage unit," Sid commented aloud as he stepped into the container.

"Same guy then," Bedford commented, his eyes looking every which and way with his own flash light as he stepped in behind the two younger men.

"Holy Shit," Knox walked into the container, face falling as his eyes went impossibly wide over what they were seeing.

"This is some fucked up shit, Steve," Bedford agreed as he looked over his shoulder at his partner, "Dude's just been torturing that poor girl in here for months I bet."

While the other two detectives chatted amongst themselves, Sid and Jeremy had moved to the far end, more interested in checking out the battery setup, though they both already knew it was the , it had Sid's mind churning away with more what if's than ever before. What if's like…"Do you think there was a chance he was planning something else with the storage unit?" Sid wondered aloud to his partner as they looked over the set-up, "As in do you think it accidentally failed on him and he just…went with it?"

Jeremy shrugged, "I don't know. It's possible I guess since he's obviously using it here."

"I'm beginning to wonder if the dogs finding bones was out of sequence…" Sid muttered as he watched the beam of the flashlight fall onto a folded up piece of notebook paper hiding under some trash, motioning for Jeremy to keep the light there. He leaned forward and retreated the stray paper, carefully unfolding it as Jeremy leaned in with the light so they could both see.

It was a list, hand scrawled in black pen. Six total lines, each containing a single letter and what appeared to be a latitude and longitude coordinates to the side. "Those are coordinates right?" Sid sought confirmation. Jeremy's eyes slid to the sides of his eyes as he looked at his partner.

"I can't think of what else they could be," He admitted as he began sliding his phone out of his coat pocket, "Let's hope I have signal out here." Luckily he did. But not much. Once on google he found the first random coordinate locator that came up, "Read me one…"

"Four, seven, dot, seven, zero, six, zero, six, five…negative one, two, two, dot, six, two, one, three, zero, zero." Jeremy punched it in as he read, submitting it as the two anxiously watched the screen load to see where the GPS ended up, "Kitsap…" Sid breathed as the page finished loading, leaving a red topped pin in a random area of the familiar county.

"Isn't that where—"

"Yeah…" Sid confirmed, "Here…do another one…" He requested before rattling off another series of similar numbers.

The page reloaded another pin, "Kitsap…basically right on top of the other pin. You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sid began pulling one of his gloves off in order to dig into his pocket for his phone, "All I know is this guy might be setting up a jurisdictional nightmare." He pointed out with a frustrated scowl, holding his cell over the parchment and snapping a quick picture. Without saying anything else he pushed past his partner and the other two detectives looking through some of the other things laying around the container, to walk back outside into the snowy, dawn lit woods. As he stepped out he began sifting through his contacts before he saw the person he wanted to reach out to, pressing the call button. With the phone to his ear, he waited only about two rings before it was answered, "Hey Don, it's Sid…yep, sure am. It's not great right now. Listen…I'm about to text you some coordinates we found. First two are in Kitsap. I haven't checked the rest yet but, maybe you are familiar with the location." As he was listening to Don, Bedford, Knox and Jeremy re-emerged from the container, Knox himself on the phone. "Hey sounds good. Let me know and I'll let you know anything else too. Oh hey…" He lowered his voice to almost a mumble, "I'd give Lance a call and get him to start twisting some arms," He quietly advised, "Fredrick Winston. My father-in-law plays tennis with him. Thanks, bye." He ended the call, shoving the phone back into his pocket while shooting his partner a glance.

"She's awake," Jeremy mouthed to him, sending Sid's eyes wide and a big wave of relief crashing over his tired, strained body. If she was awake, then that meant she was doing better. Hopefully. They needed her. She was the key to everything.

Knox walked back around, holstering his phone in his side case while glancing between everybody, "I'm staying here to meet the lab team, but Larry is going to be heading back to the hospital," He referred to his partner, "I imagine you two will want to be there too."

"Of course," Sid nodded.

"I'll stay behind as well," Jeremy volunteered, leading his partner to cast him a subtle frown, "Anymore than two people will probably be overwhelming for her," He explained his decision.

"Yeah, that's fine with me," Knox seemingly agreed, "I'm about to start casing the perimeter and will need some assistance anyway."

Sid nodded before pulling Jeremy to the side and giving him an inspecting look, "Everything okay?"

The dark headed guy's eyes looked briefly around before his brows furrowed, seemingly in confusion, "Yeah…why?"

"I don't know…months we've been hoping to find her. Months." Sid began in a low voice, more than a little surprised that he was having to state the obvious,"Now she actually turns up alive and you aren't the slightest bit interested in hearing her story?" He questioned.

Yet Jeremy only shrugged, to Sid's heightening confusion, "I don't know man…there's a lot to do here. Besides, you're better with delicate things like that than I am. I'm better at crime scenes…you're better at interviews. Go do your thing."

Sid could only manage a blinking stare at him. He had nothing else to say to that because he didn't even know what to say. He had one of the biggest interviews of his career on the horizon and his partner was choosing to abandon ship. They worked as a team. They always worked as a team. But suddenly not when the stakes were high? He couldn't wrap his head around that. The crime scene was interesting, don't get him wrong, but a chance to interview the survivor of a resident serial killer?

There was no debate in the matter for him.

But he hadn't the energy nor time to investigate Jeremy's sudden reluctance to participate. Whatever his hang-up was, it was on him at that point, and Sid mentally shelved it for another time, "Alright…fine then," He clipped in a short but disappointed tone before turning and stalking back through the woods from which they came without so much as a goodbye to his friend.

Sid marched out of the woods and back onto the snowy embankment by the road, only to realize that he wouldn't be going anywhere until Bedford caught up seeing as Jeremy was his source of transportation. He supposed that was what he got for getting irritated and walking off, which was so unlike him to do. While he waited, he leaned against one of the black SUVs and sent that photo to Don and then a few quick texts to Rhonda informing her of the potential importance of her dad calling on a judge for a favor. Fortunately, his fellow detective wasn't too far behind him, legging out of the woods and huffing tiredly towards the SUV Sid was leaned against. "There has got to be another way in there. You can't tell me that fucker trounced through the woods like a Goddamn elk every single time," Bedford vented aloud.

"Yeah you're probably right," He remarked a bit dully, though he appreciated the humor in a dark situation. It was almost necessary for the job. "Most serial killers aren't known for their athleticism that's for sure."

Larry stopped, lifting a single brow at Sid as a considering smirk drew a corner of his mouth up, "They are always some out of shape assholes aren't they."

"Always," Sid returned the smirk while pushing off of the vehicle in order to open the door and get in. Larry peeled out of his thick jacket and threw it into the back seat of his cruiser before hopping into the drivers seat, turning the ignition over and cranking the heat as high as it would go.

While they road, mostly in silence apart from the scattered bit of police chatter amongst them, Sid found that the off handed comment he'd made back at the shipping container had started to sprout legs. They had, for all intents and purposes, a high functioning serial killer who—if any of their dense prosecutors cared to link them—had spread his operation through three counties.

Three counties of police units trying to pass evidence back and fourth and having dick measuring contests. It was entirely plausible that it was all random and locations and victims were picked based on familiarity however, he was beginning to wonder if whoever it was, had an innate understanding of the confusion and gridlock of a multi-jurisdictional crimes.

The very thought alone of it being one of their own sent a hot wave of goosebumps down the back of his neck and a cold sweat flashing through him. He'd entertained Rhonda's off handed comment at the security footage because he was so paranoid that he wanted to just put it to bed, but now he wasn't so sure.

Regardless, it was thoughts he would be keeping to himself for the time being.

Hospital

Sid grabbed a coffee, holding the black gold to his lips attempting to will the exhaustive burning behind his eyes away. The lack of sleep was starting wrap its steely grip around him firm enough to where adrenaline just wasn't warding it off anymore. He shut his eyes for a fleeting moment, but a wonderful moment non-the-less before Bedford was tapping him on the arm to head up from the cafeteria to the recovery floor.

The pair stepped off the elevator and walked almost to the bend in the hallway to a nondescript wooden door on the left, directly across from the nurses station where a police officer quietly sat. Both Larry and Sid waved to the older guy before Larry rapped his knuckles quietly on the door a couples times as he slowly entered the room.

Monica was in bed, awake but not appearing super alert, though they hadn't expected her to be. Sid was surprised to see both her parents in the room, mother looking puffy faced with damp, leaky eyes and her father sporting his own glassy, bloodshot orbs. The air was thick with a mixture of happiness, anger and hope.

For the first time there was hope.

"Gary…Shannon," Sid nodded in greeting to her parents, whom he already knew, "This is detective Bedford. He's with Tacoma county."

"Nice to meet you folks," Larry smiled as Sid turned his attention to the banged up girl laying in the hospital bed staring at him with half lidded eyes that looked far removed from everything.

"Have they got you feeling a little bit better now?" Sid inquired in a soft tone.

And Monica was at least feeling up to being responsive as she subtly nodded and in a strained, raspy voice replied, "Getting there."

Sid warmly smiled, "That's good to hear. Listen I know you would probably rather rest but, you're a nurse so I imagine you understand that sometimes time is of the essence," He swallowed, studying her reaction before finishing with, "Arnold Shortman has been sitting in jail for quite while because of you being missing. We need to figure out who did this to you."

At the mention of Arnold's name, Monica eyes seemed to widen just a bit and Sid wasn't sure if it were from happiness or shock. Whichever it was, it seemed to spark the smallest amount of motivation for her to push through the tiredness and pain to speak with him. "Mom…" She croaked out, "Can you and dad go get me something to eat?"

"Of course," Shannon replied, "What are you feeling like?"

"Anything," Monica sighed tiredly, "Just…food. Real food. Pizza Hut," She finally zeroed in on a single craving.

"Pepperoni?"

"Yes…"

"Alright," Her mother nodded, grabbing her purse, catching Sid and Larry's eyes before towing her husband out of the room. Everybody knew that Monica's request for food was partially based on her not wanting her parents to hear whatever she had to say.

And that was fine.

Sid was used to it. It was often that victims didn't want their exploitation known by those around them. Sometimes out of embarrassment, sometimes in an attempt to shield them from the sordid details.

She waited for the door to click shut before her worn eyes, clouded with disappointment and regret, bounced between Sid and Larry. "I never saw his face…" She sighed, looking like she was swallowing back a lump in her throat, "I know that's hard to believe but…he was very paranoid."

Sid felt one glimmer of hope extinguish as he reached for the nearby chair to sit, pulling out his pocket recorder and pressing record before sitting it on the bed tray. He could see a small collapse in Larry's demeanor as well, "These guys are tricky," Bedford sympathized, "So let's just worry about the things you did see."

Monica nodded as she licked her busted lips a few times, "He got me at night. I'm not sure if he chloroformed me or…one minute I was getting in my car at work and the next I was waking up in the bed of a pickup truck, my hands and feet handcuffed. There was all of this…I don't know…landscaping stuff in it. It was just covered in pine straw and old wood and stuff."

"Do you know how long you were in there?"

"Long enough for him to get to that container in the woods I guess," She explained before wincing in pain as she tried to adjust in the bed, "He always wore this hunting mask," She slowly motioned to her face, "One with the cut out for goggles or something. And a baseball hat."

"Do you remember anything about the hat?"

Monica shook her head, "He wore it backwards a lot. I don't recall there being any markings."

"So what happened after you got to the container?"

"He unchained my feet when he put me in there but he locked my handcuffs to a chain in the back and…just left me there in the dark until the next night. He uh…he came in…" Her voiced wobbled a bit, "And uh…that container was lined with black lights and he gets those to come on so everything is lit and he uh…" Monica inhaled a shaky breath and her lip quaked a bit, "He uh…he says to me, 'Hello bitch. I bet you're wondering why you're here? Terrified, bound. It's because you've been chosen to be my new play thing. Now you've probably been looking around, trying to find a way to escape. Try all you want, you aren't getting away. I've done this a million times, I've seen it all. So as my new play thing, this is exactly what's going to happen to you. You're going to get fucked in every hole, tortured like a whore, and when I feel like finally killing you…I'm going to kill you.'" She sniffed as a few hot tears began to roll down her cheek. Sid reached over and yanked a few tissues from the bed side and handed them over to her, "I'll never forget that. I'll never forget that for as long as I live." Taking the tissues from him, she brought them to her bruised face to catch the small stream that had begun flowing over her cheeks. "And uh…yeah."

Sid nodded, lips drawn tightly together, "It's okay. You don't need to go into details with us right now," He assured her softly. He really didn't want to hear what that psycho had done to her anymore than she wanted to talk about it.

"He got off on causing pain. If I refused to react to…whatever he was doing to me he would often get frustrated and quit," She continued on, "He liked to talk. He would brag about how there were two guys sitting in jail that he'd framed. How he had picked them and gone after people around them."

The young detective inhaled deeply as he straightened in his seat, eyes darting over to Detective Bedford who was looking a little more confused by the minute, "Two guys? Who's—"

"Larry, there is another case in Kitsap that has a matching DNA profile to some DNA we pulled off of the girl a girl we found in Shortman's storage unit," Sid was sure that Larry was familiar with some of the goings on with the case, after all, it was big news through the surrounding areas, however he still felt the need to paraphrase it.

Yet, Bedford's eyes widened, "So you guys already knew we had a possible third party?"

Sid nodded, "It's an angle we started exploring with a detective out of Kitsap…against the wishes of my prosecutor."

"I see," The elder detective nodded back with an impressed feature settling upon his veteran face before he turned his attention back to Monica, "What else did he talk about?"

"Just that it was a game to him but also an…outlet for…unrequited love or…somebody breaking his heart or…something. He could be all over the place. He rambled about a muse sometimes."

"We saw the bobby pin in the lock. That is quite clever that you managed that," Sid said with an assuring smile.

Surprisingly, Monica managed a tiny little smile towards him before her eyes fell to her free hand that was wadding and unwadding the tissues, "My dad's a retired army ranger and avid outdoors man. He uh…taught my brothers and me a lot of survival techniques…including how to pick locks," She explained, voice trailing off for a moment as her mind wandered to a not so long ago dark moment, "He was beginning to escalate everything. I was sick and just…not carrying anymore no matter what he did. He was frustrated enough that I'm sure…" She paused for a moment, her mouth bobbing open and close a few times as she struggled with which words to choose, "I know he would have killed me soon," A new batch of tears began streaming over her eyes, "He would say that…I would know…when he was going to kill me…because I would see his face," She wiped her swollen eyes again, "And it would be the last thing I ever saw."

Sid waited until her quiet sobs had died down before asking, "Tell me about last night," He felt terribly insensitive continuing to try to get information out of somebody so fresh out of hell. But the clock was ticking and he knew more than anybody, the beat up woman next to him wanted to find this asshole more than anybody.

Monica inhaled, wiping her nose and nodding subtly, "Night before, when he was there he had…thrown me up against the wall because I…wouldn't take an antibiotic pill he had. I just…I just wanted to die already. If not for anything else other than to rob him of the joy of killing me," She swallowed, steeling her breathing, "But when he threw me, and I hit the ground, my fingers brushed against that bobby pin under some leaves. Probably some other girls. I knew I could get the handcuffs off with it but the main lock…he left for the night and I got the handcuffs off and I knew the container just had a chain holding the doors together and not one of those…levers. I had watched him enough to see that."

"Yeah."

"I pushed against the doors as hard as I could so that they would crack open just enough to pull that pad lock in and started messing with it. It took me…I don't know…it felt like hours. I could only use one hand," She held up her casted right hand, "I felt like I kept going in and out because of the fever. But when it popped…I…I just ran."

"Was there anything distinctive about him? I know you never saw his face but…any…scars or limps or…?" Larry inquired, hoping against all odds she could pin point some sort of distinct characteristic.

Monica shook her head, her brow creasing painfully underneath a layer of purple bruises, "Not really. I mean…he was tall I guess but…I'm five-three…everybody is tall to me. Whatever he used for laundry detergent was very…pungent. Like he used too much of it. He wasn't old…his voice made him sound like…twenties to thirties I guess. But…I know this is going to sound weird but he deliberately made his voice sound deeper and growly like…like that actor in the newer Batman movie. Sorry…I know it's not helpful."

"It may not be a smoking gun to catch him but…it's going to help exonerate two other men now," Sid nodded at her, "That's a good thing."

Monica's eyes shifted over to the young detective, "He's really in Jail? Arnold?"

"Yeah," Sid nodded again, "This guy…he wasn't lying about framing people for his crimes. He's been very good at it."

"God…" Monica's eyes became glassy again as she looked off, pushing her tissue to her nose, "How awful for him and his family."

And Sid couldn't help but feel riddled with guilt for buying right into the trap this psycho had set. So much so that he'd pressured Arnold, and pressured Arnold to give up information that he had had no knowledge of, pushed him to the point of suicide and probably destroyed his relationship with Helga by roping her into his interrogations. "Awful doesn't even begin to describe it," He replied in a withered voice, his mouth feeling very dry.

In his pocket, he felt his phone vibrate. He slowly slipped it out, tilting the screen enough to see a text from Rhonda that was simply a thumbs up emoji, letting him know she was able to get her dad to talk to his judge friend.

From a law enforcement perspective, what he was doing was highly unprofessional. To be going behind the backs of his own department and prosecutor and working with a defendant's attorney to get him released. Unthinkable. But morally he felt he was doing the right thing. Relieving almost. Besides, he had already been preparing to blow himself up on a grand jury stand. Whatever happened…so be it.

He didn't care anymore.

Hillwood

Lance stood outside of a town home in the wealthier district of Hillwood, morning overcast and ever frozen with snow still. He had ahold of a thick binder of papers he was hoping to get signed and sealed to put in motion Arnold being released without bail since it was clear he was being held without merit at that point. He knocked for a second time before a pudgy older man, dressed in a bathrobe yanked open the heavy plank with tired sigh, "Can you give a man time to get to the door?" He snarked in reply, oozing with inconvenience.

"Judge Winston," Lance sighed a little boorish, "Your reputation proceeds you," He held the binder out, not feeling like wasting anymore of his clients time.

The judge gave a barrel of a laugh as his paw of a leather hand took the papers, "You're lucky that girl came out of the woods…and even luckier that Buckley Lloyd is a good friend."

A/N: And there you have it. Sid has some things up his sleeves when he wants to use them. Jeremy is…being weird as usual. Anyway, hoping to wrap this up sooner than later. As always, I love reading everybody's thoughts, theories and speculations. I'm always motivated to write—I just lack the free time to do it as much as I would like—but you guys get me even more motivated with the speculations. Until next chapter! Cheers!