Disclaimer: You know the deal – I don't own shit.

A/n: THANK YOU! I had a load of warm fuzzies reading your reviews. It has given me a fresh load of confidence to post more and because your all so nice, I decided on a double post. I think Rangers in the next update so get ready for it. He says, 'Yo' to all the reviewers and readers.

Enjoy…

Chapter 9

Lunch managed to go okay, Valerie and the family weren't there so things were a little quieter.

The talk of my new crime soon faded out of the conversation and instead it was filled with Grandma's narration of her visit to Stiva's the night before.

Normal grandmother's knit and make cakes all day right? Mine finds intense enjoyment in going to the funeral parlour and seeking to see dead bodies and eating all the cookies.

Kinda getting why I'm as strange as I am?

I managed to get saved from listening to Grandma Mazur tell me about what everyone was wearing, by Connie who had completed the search and phoned me.

I said my goodbyes and left the house slightly exhausted.

It was exhausting eating out at my parents.

Sure, you got a meal that was nutritional and delicious but you also had to risk loosing your sanity by listening to Valerie's mind numbing stories, my mother's crappy gossip and my grandma's frightening encounters.

Luckily I only had to endure this once a week or, if I'm lucky, once a fortnight.

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"So what have we got?" I asked Connie as I walked into the office.

Connie was sitting in her swivel chair, painting her finger nails a rich, purple that matched her halter.

She looked up as I walked in, "Not much but it could be something…"

I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face, a habit that I had started to do a lot when I got stressed.

"Let me have a look," I said and took the papers she handed to me.

I thanked her and put them in my bag, intending to read them when I got home. I tended to have mind flashes when I was at home, nursing a bottle of Corona.

"Are you going home?" she asked me looking hopeful.

I raised an eyebrow, "I was, why? Anxious to get somewhere?"

She smiled, "I got a date."

I grinned, looks like the outfit worked.

"Who with? Do I know him?"

She blushed, "Actually yes, you know down at the cop station, I'm dating Carl Costanza. I went down there today to get some paper work for Vinnie and he just outright started flirting with me and asked me out for some food tonight…"

I gave a little excited scream for my friend, "That's fantastic! Well go, go! You have to go get ready! Come on!"

She got to her feet and grinned, "Okay!"

We locked the place up in record time and I gave Connie a hug for luck and told her to have a good time as I got in my car and drove back to my apartment to figure out my little dilemma.

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I sat at the small dining table, sheets of paper all over the place.

I had circled sentences that I thought were any interest and I now had a small note pad and was writing bullet points down.

Jerry Lopez was single with no family.

'Lopez had no real enemies' a neighbour said, 'He was an okay guy.'

Lopez used to be in the army until he got chucked out with an unhonourable discharge due to reckless behaviour and drugs.

Lopez's best friend, Ken Indy, said that Lopez was a placid man with no scheming ex-lovers or jealous wives. He picked up girls when he wanted to but never had a proper relationship.

I looked at what I had written and groaned.

This was not helping even in the slightest, all this said was this was a random murder because Lopez didn't have any foes which put me in it even more.

If I did murder Lopez it would be suggested because he was my skip and gave me trouble.

I collected the papers and folded them and hid them under the sofa with bounds, which were luckily still there.

Miss Bitch, hadn't come into the house again, yet.

I looked at the time and yawned.

Bloody hell.

It was 11.00 and I hadn't even noticed.

I fed Rex some hamster nuggets and changed into some PJ's and snuggled up into my bed, hoping that I would sleep better tonight…knowing that the chances of me getting out of this were slim.

Unlike last night I couldn't sleep at all.

At 1.ooam I gave up and got up.

I paced around the apartment wondering what I could do about the slight problem that had over taken my life.

I walked into the kitchen and started up the stove.

Cookie time…

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100 Cookies and a stomach ache later I was feeling a little iffy, lying on my sofa watching the rolls of commercials on the tv.

It was at that time in the morning that they stop putting on any programs, even the really crappy ones, and just play commercial after commercial.

I could now mime every single one because I had heard them so often.

I rolled off the couch and got to my feet telling myself to go do something.

I took a shower, got changed into a pair of sweat pants and small stretchy top.

Can't sleep so I resorted to running.

I grabbed my running sneakers and laced them up tight, convincing myself that I loved running.

I grabbed my keys, a small travel size can of mace and my cell phone, ready to start the day with a nice, long run.

An hour later I got back to the apartment wondering what the fuck ever possessed me to torture myself with exercise! I showered again, the sweat stains and eau de la B.O not really working for me, and dressed in a pair of Levi's and a baggy Ranger's jersey, pulling my SWAT cap on my head to cover my messy excuse of hair.

I scooped all the cookies in a re-sealable container and decided to have something different for breakfast.

I chose a bowl of Fruit Loops and ate them like a starving woman.

Hey, what can I say? Running wore me out!

Ranger would be proud if he knew that I had run out of choice.

Ranger.

I smiled at the thought of his handsome, smiling face.

I wonder what he's doing now…probably fighting off all the bad guys no doubt with the justice league.

I grinned dopily, wondering why in the hell hadn't I seen that I blatantly had major feelings for him.

I sighed dreamily and sat on the couch and turned on the tv.

I decided I would watch that borrowed Ranger's game from Mary Lou and settled myself down and pressed play.

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Two hours later, I was dancing around the apartment chanting,

'Ranger's!' then I'd clap three times and repeat.

It was pretty fun until my voice started to hurt and the phone rang.

I walked over to the phone and picked up,

"Hello?"

"Steph! It's Connie! I got info!" Connie's voice was high and excited.

I paused and frowned, why was Connie phoning me so early?

I checked the VCR clock, damn, it was 8.

Suddenly I digested what Connie was saying,

"What! Really? I'll be over in ten!" I said grinning, my mood suddenly uplifted.

I put the phone down and ran to the door, grabbing my bag, coat and keys on the way.

Connie had info, this could be big; this could get me out jail!

I was almost skipping to the office and opened the door with a big smile.

"Hello!" I said to Connie and…Melvin?

They both chorused the hello back to me and I frowned at Melvin, the new file clerk,

"Aren't you supposed to be on your holiday?" I asked him, it was summer and Vinnie was feeling generous so he gave Melvin a couple of weeks off. He didn't feel the need to do the same for me…

Lula and Connie had pinned it down to Vinnie feeling intimidated by another pervert being in the office.

I pinned it down to Vinnie wanting me to stick my foot up his slimy ass if he ever decides to make the decision again.

"Yeah…but Vinnie changed his mind so here I am…" he sounded a little disappointed but I pretty sure Melvin had no or little friends so really he had no one to spend the holiday with.

I smiled at him, "Bad luck."

He nodded and turned back to the filing cabernet.

I turned to Connie grinning widely, "Okay tell me the news!"

She smiled, "Well, I heard that the next door neighbour of Jerry Lopez admitted to Sally Ann, Paul Kregini's daughter, that she had been paid to say that she say a curly haired woman, matching your description, came out of Jerry Lopez's house late on Friday night."

Connie looked very pleased with herself as she relayed this information back to me and smiled widely when she had finished.

I smiled, "Her name?"

"Cassandra Gervais."

Chapter 10

I had, what seemed like, a permanent grin on my face as I cruised down to Cassandra Gervais's house, next door to Jerry Lopez's house on the right.

This could be it, this could finally be the lead to some sort of evidence that states that I didn't commit that stupid murder.

Seriously, what would have been my motive?

I murdered Lopez because he was a difficult skip?

Had that been the case wouldn't people think that maybe I would have murdered just about every single on of the skips I've ever had because the most of them have been slightly difficult.

I pulled up at Cassandra's house and smiled when I saw a car outside her house.

I was going to take a wild guess that she was home.

Connie had given me a small search for Cassandra and I had learnt that she lived alone in this small one bedroom house with little relatives and little money. Which explains the fact that Cassandra could easily of gotten won over by the real murderer and framed me with some cash.

I got out of the car and walked down the drive towards the door.

I felt my eyebrows knit together in suspicion when I saw that the door was open and swinging, enticing me to look inside.

No! You should phone the police!

I sighed, I should but my curiosity won over.

I took my gun out of my bag and slowly edged into the house,

"Cassandra!" I called out to her, hoping that she would reply.

My spider senses were tingling all over telling me that this was a bad idea.

I bit my lip and continued venturing through the house, through the hall and into the living room where the flea bitten drapes were drawn and hung lazily.

I narrowed my eyes and looked around not spotting Cassandra anywhere, just an old looking couch and chair with a torn lampshade next to it. The TV set even looked ancient; this woman really needed to get her hands on some money – it was obvious.

I walked up the stairs after looking in the kitchen and finding nothing.

The floor board underneath the ratty carpet creaked ominously and groaned underneath my weight.

"Cassandra…" I called out again and slowly walked up to the landing, my heart thudding in my chest so loud I could hear it echoing in my mind.

My blood was pumping and there was a voice in my head screaming,

"Go back! Go back! Get out of this house now!"

But I had another voice going,

"Keep going, this woman is one of your last chances! Leave and it will be jail for you."

I took a shaky breath and walked towards the airing closet, my nerves tight just waiting for me to open the door.

I raised my hand to the door knob and clutched it tightly, slowly turning it anti-clockwise while the thumping of my heart echoed in my brain.

The door opened with a lazy creak and I looked inside the darkness to find three or four old worn shirts and a couple of bras and panties.

I put a hand to my heart and breathed in a couple of deep breathes, cursing under my breath for getting myself so worked up.

A shadow flickered past and I froze.

Shit.

I raised my gun and turned and walked slowly towards the bedroom where the shadow had disappeared to.

The room was a complete mess, clothes strewn all over the bed, a suitcase on the floor.

Looks like Cassandra was planning on going for a little trip.

I had a bad feeling that she had never got the chance to finish for some reason that's better left unknown…

I looked around the room, telling myself it was nothing – probably just some rat or something.

Once I was sure that Cassandra wasn't in the room I made my way towards the bathroom, dread creeping through my veins and pumping through my blood.

I knew she was in here, just a question of whether she was dead or alive.

I opened the door with a creak and let out a small gasp at the sight.

The shower curtain had been pulled down over the bath covering the, very visible, body of Cassandra Gervais. The shower curtain was smeared with blood and seeped all over the floor, staining the white tiles to a dark, deep red.

I could feel my head start to swim and I slid to the floor, putting my head between my legs.

It wouldn't help me to faint here, in fact it would probably prove the case even worse.

I put my gun in the back of my jeans and slowly edged towards the shower curtain.

I needed to see how bad her injuries were; I needed to phone the paramedics.

I heard a small squeak, "Help."

I felt my eyes widen and shoved the curtain off her to see Cassandra's pale, gaunt face slackening.

She was slowly moving her mouth trying to form words.

"Who did this to you?" I asked her slowly.

She had bullet wounds through her chest and stomach.

It didn't look good, she didn't have much chance of survival.

She looked up at me with her eyes wide in wonder.

"Who did this to you, Cassandra?" I asked her again, softly.

She opened her mouth and closed, forming a silent name that I couldn't decipher, before her eyes closed and her head lolled backwards.

"Cassandra!" I said to shaking her body, trying to get her to wake up even though inside I knew my attempts would be futile.

I needed this woman to tell people in a court of law that I did not commit murder.

"Wake up!" I said angrily, shaking her harder with tears streaming out of my eyes.

I look back on it now and I realise just how desperate I was and how hysterical I was.

Things had just gotten bad to worse and weren't stopping there, quite yet.

I heard footsteps behind me and froze, slowly turning to see three or four men, all dressed in black with windbreakers tight across their torso's with POLICE stretched out in big white letters.

Shit.

I guess things could get worse.

I got picked up off the floor by a man I was a little familiar with, Carl Costanza, who wordlessly clicked cuffs on my wrists behind my back while a cop I didn't know started stating my rights.

I groaned, "Look, I know this looks crap but-"

"Steph, if you know what's good for you, you'll shut up. You're in deep shit with nothing that's going to get you out, keep your mouth shut or you'll go in deeper." Carl whispered into my ear and I relaxed.

He was right, I was in deep shit. I just wanted to know why.

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I got shoved in the back of a police car, for the second time in the last couple of days, and driven to the cop shop where I was pushed through the corridors and back down to the questioning rooms.

I sighed very heavily when I saw the familiar faces of Federal Agents Waider and Johnson.

I got pushed into a chair before the heavy door slammed shut and I was left along with the two imbeciles.

I looked blankly at them, waiting for them to talk.

Waider leaned over to the left of the table and pressed record on the tape recorder, before turning to me and clearing his throat.

"Miss Plum, you were found at the scene of the crime today at quarter to nine, is this correct?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, he knew it was bloody correct, he just said so.

I nodded.

"Do you admit to the murder of Cassandra Gervais?" Waider said slowly, studying my face.

I shook my head, "No, because I didn't do it."

Waider sighed, "Miss Plum, there is no use denying it, the evidence against you is the majority."

I didn't add anything knowing that he wasn't interested in anything I said unless it was admitting to it.

He paused before continuing, "Miss Cassandra Gervais was found dead in the bathroom, with her blood on your clothes, your prints all over the shower curtain beside her and on her clothes. Miss Gervais was shot with the same gun that was taken from you on entering the police station. You were found in her house at the time, what can you tell me that would possibly tell me different?"

I bit the inside of my lip, the bitch was good. She knew my gun and the bullets. She tipped of the cops, I was sure of it and she predicted what I would do in the situation – of course I'm going to try and help Cassandra which, evidently, would get my prints all over her.

Shit.

"I did not kill Cassandra Gervais, I went to house to talk to her an convince her, not by murder, to stand up in court and tell the judge that she was bribed to tell the cops that she saw 'a curly haired brunette with blue eyes' exit Lopez's house on Friday night because she was but when I got there was partically alive, she was barely talking to me but then you appeared and she dead in my arms. Why would I stick around if I had killed her? What purpose would I have? Don't you think that I would have fucked off and run away?" I got a little angry towards the end and a little louder.

The two Feds look dubious again and I narrowed my eyes,

"Look, I know you don't believe me but you asked and I told you." I snapped.

Waider spoke up again, "Miss Plum, a knife was found at your apartment with Jerry Lopez's blood on it, how do you explain that?"

I felt my mouth drop open, "What?"

I felt fear run through my body, this just got worse and worse.

"Miss Plum."

"Somebody planted it there." I replied to his prompting.

Waider raised an eyebrow, "Somebody planted a knife with your prints in your apartment? That is highly unlikely."

I narrowed my eyes, "It's the truth, also the person who set this all up. She left messages on my answer machine but when I returned from the police startion last Saturday they had been deleted, she bound me and told me that I was going to jail and she has now, planted evidence in my apartment. I don't know who it is but their starting to piss me off…slightly." I said as calmly as I could manage.

Waider leaned back in his chair and put his hand behind his head and lounged languidly, "That's an interesting story, Miss Plum. Did this woman, you say, also plant your prints on this knife? Or plant your blood at Lopez's house?"

I sighed, "Lopez was my skip, I went over to his house last Friday, about mid morning, and I tried to apprehend him but he ended up cutting me with this knife but I tackled him and had the knife in my hand but dropped it whilst running the hell out of there."

Waider sighed impatiently, "Look Miss Plum, there is enough evidence to put you away for a long time, it would be easier on yourself if you just admitted to all the charges and pleaded guilty. You might get some years knocked off if your lucky or-

"Look I didn't fucking do it! What pleasure would I get out of this? Why would I murder Lopez? Because he's a difficult skip? I've had a helluva a lot of difficult skips but you don't see me murdering them all, do you!" I stood up from my chair, knocking it backwards so it slammed back against the floor, and banged my hands, palms down, onto the table causing the tape recorder to jump up slightly.

There was an awkward silence as I stared down at Waider, my eyes full of fire, my blood boiling.

If he didn't stop jabbing at me I was pretty sure I was about to become a murderer, for sure.

"That will be all Miss Plum." Waider said slowly before I felt someone's hands descend down on my shoulders.

I felt my heart plummet as I was lead out of the questioning rooms down another corridor towards the screams.

TBC

A/n: Your thoughts? Very much appreciated, by the way:)