"Things began to change two years ago when Jason got laid off."

Martha Roberts' voice had taken on a sullen undertone, as she nervously kneaded her red purse. He'd pulled her into Mike's office, where they could sit next to each other in the guest chairs. Steve hoped that would establish a certain level of trust and allow for a more casual atmosphere that any other interrogation room in the bullpen lacked.

"Change how?"

"Well, you see, Inspector, he…I guess he started to get antsy when he was at home. I was convinced he'd look for a new job almost immediately, but it seemed that after a while, he enjoyed being at home and trying to control all of us instead. He turned into the spitting image of the nagging housewife."

Glancing down for a moment as she shook her head, Martha ran a nervous hand through her voluminous red hair, before continuing.

"First he complained about me being late from work here and there when traffic got too dense. Then he went after the kids. He didn't like the friends Sarah hung out with and he kept calling Luther "loser", because of his job as a cashier at the grocery store at the time. But see, Luther is what you might call socially awkward. He has a very hard time making friends, much less dealing with strangers. But he wanted to be on his own so bad that he took on a job that caused him so much stress all things considered."

Biting his lip, Steve listened intently, his warm green eyes scanning the lady empathetically.

"Did Jason ever say why he chose not to pursue another job after he was laid off?"

"Never. But he kept reiterating how it was obvious, this household and his family needed all of his guidance to keep things going. Eventually, the only thing he did was drive us apart in two short years. Have you ever heard about something like that before, Inspector? People changing like this?"

Thrown off guard at the candid question, Steve shrugged insecurely and ran a hand across his chin, buying himself a moment to come up with a fitting answer.

"People do change. Sometimes it has to do with problems they are facing in their lives, other times its some outside influence. Even mental illness could be a factor. Sometimes, people don't realize they suffer from it until it's too late."

Martha fell quiet for a moment, studying the floor in the office as if to hope it would give her all the answers needed.

"Maybe you are right, Inspector. Maybe it is mental illness that drove him to change like that. Whatever the reason may be, Sarah began to avoid our home. And why wouldn't she? I couldn't blame her. Luther took on that volunteer position at the funeral home. It seemed to give him a purpose, something…useful to do, you know? See, Jason's moods became more volatile by the week, he screamed at them, he screamed at me, the littlest things began to set him off."

"Misses Roberts, did your husband ever beat you?"

He knew he was taking a chance with the question. He also knew he was right on track when her eyes widened in terror, as she slowly nodded.

"Twice. Once when I came back late from a staff meeting at the bank and then a week later when…"

Her voice broke and tears began to well up in her eyes. Reaching into his beige coat pocket, Steve pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to the sobbing lady.

"He…he beat me a week later because I forgot his pistachios when I went shopping."

Drawing in a deep breath, Steve leaned back into the guest chair, jaw clenched, trying to remain professional and not show his utter disgust for the man Martha Roberts called her husband.

"Misses Roberts, do you realize that what you are describing is considered domestic abuse and punishable by law?"

His voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

"I know that, Inspector. Don't think for a second that I didn't consider going to the police. But I wanted to stay together…for the kid's sake. I really did. I guess I was foolishly hoping he'd change back to the person I married eighteen years ago."

Having to fight the urge to remind her once again that nobody, under any circumstances, should ever endure physical or verbal abuse from their partners, Steve fell quiet again, knowing he had to steer the conversation back to their murder case.

"Now, you said that there were things that you heard and saw when it comes to Sarah's murder. Would you mind elaborating on that a bit please?"

From his distance, he could see her beginning to shake, thin fingers grasping the expensive purse with such strength that he heard the contents inside shifting and cracking.

"About a year ago I'd say…Jason and Sarah had a big fight about her…her artist friends. For some reason, Jason just hated them. And that's a shame because some of them are really nice. After that, Sarah came by less and less, and Luther, well, bless his heart, he kind of tried to…how would you call it…schmooze up to Jason. With his job at the grocery store, he couldn't afford to live on his own so I guess he tried to make the best out of it. He even went as far as changing jobs and work as an office helper for the mechanic down the road. They promised to train him on the job if he keeps a clean work record for a year. Jason, of course, was delighted and began to spend more time with Luther and less with Sarah."

Movement out of the corner made Steve look up and he saw Mike outside of his office window. Cocking his head slightly at his superior and best friend, he put a hand on Martha's arm and waited for the Lieutenant to enter.

"Misses Roberts, this is Lieutenant Mike Stone. We're both working on Sarah's murder case. Mike this is Martha Roberts, Sarah's mother."

"Don't let me interrupt you two, just carry on."

Nodding cordially at the lady, Mike moved over to the file cabinet to pour himself some water, intentionally remaining nondescript.

Feeling his partner's eyes on them from across the desk, Steve clasped his hands in lap, before clearing his throat again.

"It sounds as though Jason's behavior caused your children to play favorites."

"Something like that, yeah. But see, Inspector, Luther didn't do it to be the favorite kid. He just…he was just trying to survive. He loves his sister. But at least Sarah could…she could run away, with her friends. He, without any friends like that, was stuck."

"Now, Misses Roberts, to get back to your previous comment, what is it that you heard that caused you to come down here?"

With her thin lips quivering, she shifted in the guest chair, unable to face her intrigued audience.

"The morning of the 4th of July…I…I didn't have much planned. I was maybe going to swing by the bank and work on some transaction folders that had been piling up on my desk for review. It wasn't as if there was anything that kept me home. As a matter of fact, it was keeping my mind off worrying about my missing daughter …"

Sobbing, she wiped away her tears with Steve's handkerchief, as she muttered some undiscernible words under her breath.

"I had just gotten out of the shower and was making a sandwich for later when I heard the side door slam. It was Jason, and he had Luther with him. They seemed to be in a hurry, but he wouldn't tell me what was going on. In fact, I don't think Luther knew what was going on either, he was just tagging along because Jason told him to. Then I heard him rummage around in the garage and tell Luther that they had to get the car to fix things. And then they disappeared again."

"Do you think that your husband would have had reason to murder your daughter, Misses Roberts?"

He could almost feel Mike's invisible hand on his shoulder, grasping it tightly, cautioning him to take it slower with the lady, not jumping on the bait right away.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. All I know is that a few minutes after he left, I heard something tumble in the garage. I went to check it out, and it was one of the metal pipes we had left over from our dog kennel, from when we had a small poodle. It wasn't with the other ones and it was very heavy. Jason had put it by his golf equipment and somehow it had fallen over and rolled across the floor. I went to pick it up and that's when I noticed that…it had blood on it."

Sharing a knowing glance with Mike who stood silently in the corner, all his senses cued on the conversation ahead, Steve nodded unperceptively, before returning his attention to Martha Roberts.

"Do you still have that pipe?"

"When Jason came back, I confronted him and he told me that he'd used it the previous day to kill a squirrel that had gotten into the garage. He was very relaxed…downright thoughtful about the issue, and said he'd take it to the dump so that I wouldn't have to look at it. It seemed that whatever was bothering him before he left had been resolved and he was almost like his old self again."

"What about Luther?"

"Luther has barely spoken to me since this happened. He's buried himself in his work and was either sleeping or gone when I was around this week. But once I heard about your visit and learned about what happened to my baby…I began to question things…things I never thought I'd question. And I was too afraid to bring it up in front of Jason for fear that he might try to hurt me. See, without any evidence, I didn't know if I could even talk to you."

"You…you certainly did the right thing, Misses Roberts.", Steve reassured and put a calming hand on the shaken woman's forearm, "We appreciate your courage to come out and let us know what's going on, so that we may continue our investigation into the death of your daughter."

He could hear Mike approach from behind, short, slow steps taken in meticulous precision as he worked his way around the office to sit opposite of his partner at the short end of the desk.

"Misses Roberts…", the Lieutenant said in guarded neutrality, his blue eyes reading every nuance of their witnesses' body language, "That Skylark that Jason reported stolen…did Sarah ever drive it?"

Momentarily thrown off guard by his question, the lady glanced back and forth between both detectives, before shaking her head decisively.

"Never. It was mostly Jason's car. I took it to work once when I had a flat tire on my Mercedes. The only other person allowed to drive it from time to time was Luther, when he needed a car to get to work."

Looking over, Steve met his partner's keen gaze, knowing that Mike was onto something.

The bloodhound had finally caught a scent.

"Say, Misses Roberts, the night the Skylark was stolen, where were you and what were you doing?"

Obviously confused, Martha returned to kneading the purse and shrugged carelessly.

"I was at work…where else? You've done your research; you know what I do for a living. I work many late nights, like that one. What are you getting at, Lieutenant?"

"Well…", leaning back against the gray file cabinet, Mike pointed his chin at the DMV file lying on top of his file cabinet, "I won't lie to you. I just came back from downstairs and looked up everything we had on your stolen car. I even called the repair shop where you get your oil changed to get an idea what the mileage was when it was stolen three months ago. I compared it to the mileage when we found it in the bay yesterday…"

"You…you found the car?"

"Mhm hm. And a lot of other clues. As it turns out, the car only had ninety-five more miles on it from the last time it was serviced, which was a couple weeks before Jason reported it stolen, until we found it yesterday."

"I am not following you at all, Lieutenant. So the…the robbers stole it and didn't drive it very far? Is that what you are saying?"

Shaking his head with a faint smile, Mike gestured for Steve to take over from here.

"Misses Roberts, we have reason to believe that your husband either arranged for the car to be stolen or hid it from law enforcement himself. The car was involved in your daughter's murder and it was also seen down by Candlestick park, driven by somebody who disguised himself as one of Sarah's friends. Do you believe it is possible that Jason planned to kill Sarah for quite some time, maybe he was still mad about the argument he had with her earlier? And that he followed her someplace and became…physically violent toward her? And maybe he thought she was dead and wanted to hide the body but she managed to jump out and tried to flee, so he ran her over and killed her. Then, in an effort to deceive us, he dressed up as one of our other suspects and lead us on a wild goose chase downtown."

Martha shook his head more vehemently as he continued on, her brown eyes widening in disbelief.

"Our coroner identified a metal pole just like the one you described as being used to severely injure your daughter, Misses Roberts. So what we need to know is if there's anything at all that you heard your husband talk about that ties him directly to that car during the time of her murder? Did he say anything to you, or Luther that might have seen benign at the time but might now pose a great value in our investigation? Did he tell you where exactly he disposed of the pole? Anything at all?"

Releasing a breath she'd held for many long moments, Martha looked back up, her eyes full of fear and sorrow this time around.

"Inspector, I swear to you, I am telling you everything I heard and saw…everything. But there is one more thing. Last night, when I got home from work, he…he'd been having a few beers, winding down on the couch. I sat with him to eat my leftover tuna salad and watch some TV when he turned the volume down and smiled at me with that…that weird look in his eyes I had never seen before. And in the most calming voice, he said Martha, our fun is just beginning. At first I just thought he was drunk but now…Inspector Keller, you don't…you don't think my husband is planning on killing me next, are you?"