The one good thing about being Sheriff in a small town - and having no deputy - was that one could take liberties. Those liberties allowed Killian to escort Mary Margaret to their loft that night and tell her they would head to the station and deal with the mess the next morning. He bid her farewell after that and simply retreated to his room. A part of him wanted to stay by her side and assured her everything will be fine, but he also knew that he needed to put some distance between them in case everyone came asking questions the next day.
He barely slept that night and by the shadows underneath her eyes, neither had she. He drove them both silently to the station and once they were there, he fidgeted next to his desk. Killian knew what he had to do, he'd lain awake all night listing to himself all the reasons why he needed to take Mary Margaret to the station that morning and yet…
"You have to book me, don't you?" Mary Margaret met his eyes, a gentle smile on her face. He couldn't believe she was the one maintaining a cool facade during all this.
"Aye, I must." He gestured for Mary Margaret to stand in front of the wall they used for mugshots and she quickly obliged.
"I didn't kill Kathryn, Killian."
"Of course you didn't." He was almost offended she felt the need to point that out to him. "But you know I have to go where the evidence leads."
"And it points to me. Yesterday it seemed it was David…. Something is not right here." There wasn't even a hint of reproach in her voice, as if she wasn't getting the short end of the stick on this one, as if she were simply trying to help him solve this as a friend.
"I know, darling, I know. But with your fingerprints on that box, if I don't book you today..."
"Regina will have a strong cause to fire you," Mary Margaret finished his thought for him, voicing his biggest concern. If he was still Sheriff, he could ensure every single thing was triple checked before proceeding, but if Regina found even one excuse to get rid of him, gods knew what type of treatment Mary Margaret - or anyone - would get. His eyes bored into hers, hoping she could read in them what he couldn't say out loud.
"I'm still waiting for the DNA results to come back. But in the meantime, I need to ask you a few questions. I need you to bear with me."
"I trust you," she said, reaching to squeeze his hand. He felt a lump in his throat and he wanted nothing more than to release her and tell her to run far away from here. But he had a job to do and he had to be honest with her before they made it to that interrogation room.
"Mary Margaret, Regina is going to be there." Mary Margaret's eyes widened in fear and he held onto her hand. "She asked to present as a third-party observer, to ensure I remain impartial in the interrogation." Killian swallowed, trying to find the words. He wanted her to know that he believed her, he believed in her. "I know you'd never hurt anyone, Mary Margaret. I know it."
Her eyes filled with unshed tears as she squeezed his hand again. "Come on, Sheriff. Do your job."
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Regina Mills looked every bit of the smug witch she could be when they entered the room. But luckily, she'd remained silent as Killian initiated the recording and started with his account of the facts they knew.
"The heart was found buried near the old Toll Bridge. It had been cut out by what appears to be a hunting knife. Have you ever been to that bridge before?"
May Margaret didn't hesitate as she spoke. "Yes. It's where David and I liked to meet."
"David Nolan," Killian clarified for the records and she nodded. "What was the purpose behind those meetings?"
"We were having an affair." She was calm and collected as she honored the truth, and he was so proud of her at that moment. Leave it to Mary Margaret to do the right thing even in the worst of moments. She tilted her head and met Regina's eyes. "I'm not proud of what happened, and I'm sorry. But that doesn't change the fact that I did not kill Kathryn."
Killian let those words sink in as he reached for the evidence shelf. He slowly put on a pair of latex gloves and retrieved the plastic bag that held the wooden box Ruby had found.
He placed the box on the table. "Have you seen this before?"
Mary Margaret tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "That's my jewelry box."
Killian's heart sank in his chest and he had trouble keeping his voice calm. "We found the heart inside this."
Mary Margaret finally broke, not being able to maintain her composure any longer. "Don't you see? Someone must have stolen it and put the heart in it." Her eyes filled with tears as she desperately turned from him to Regina. "I didn't have anything to do with this."
"Miss Blanchard." Regina put her hand over Mary Margaret's, her tone almost reassuring. Killian narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "I know what you're going through. I know what it's like to lose someone you love." She gave it a moment for the words to sink in. "To be publicly humiliated. It put me in a very dark place. Changed me." There was no hint of a lie, there wasn't t even anything threatening in her words, and yet Killian could feel the darkness seeping behind every syllable, the way each word had been sharpened to a point, all the better to stab into Mary Margaret's heart. "I can only imagine what losing David Nolan did to you."
May Margaret released her hand from Regina's hold. "I haven't changed. I'm still the same. I did not do this."
Regina's eyes narrowed and attempted to speak, but Killian decided that he would not tolerate this anymore. "Madam Mayor, a word with you in the hallway."
It took all this self-restraint but he managed to keep his voice level as he turned to her in the corridor. "You're an observer here, not a party. You don't get to ask questions or provide any color commentary on it. You're tainting the investigation."
Regina gave him a once-over. "You're so convinced she didn't do it. It's written all over your face, Mr. Jones."
"Sheriff Jones," he corrected, his jaw clenching.
"If that box was stolen from her, as she claims, don't you think there'd be signs of a break in?" She had a point there. Killian knew it and from the smug face Regina was sporting, she knew it too. "You're her roommate – tell me. Has there been one?"
Killian fisted his hands at his sides, his mind searching for the perfect comeback. "I'm going to look into it."
"Don't beat yourself up over this, Jones. You're a man, you can't understand all of this," Regina's eyes twinkled with an evil streak that almost made Killian recoil. "She's a woman who's been heartbroken and deceived. That can make you do unspeakable things."
"Does it? How would you know, Madam Mayor?" He couldn't resist the barb.
"I'm not the one being investigated, Sheriff," she replied in a firm tone. "I suggest you focus on the case at hand. If you're so sure she didn't do it, find out who did."
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Killian hated this convoluted case with every beat of his once cold and now very much feeling heart. Those were the thoughts running through his mind as he put on a pair of latex gloves and started his careful canvass of the loft. He checked the door and the windows for any signs of a forced entry, but there were none. He was ruminating on that, his eyes fixated on the glass of the window, when Henry's voice reached him from the front door.
"What are you doing?"
"Why aren't at school?" Killian's irritation was noticeable in his voice. While he was no stranger to cutting school, his wayward years had started a little later than his boy's. At Henry's age, he'd taken solace in school, it was somewhere he could take refuge from the despicable foster family of the week (or the month) that had taken him in.
Ignorant of his musings, Henry walked towards him. "We have to help Miss Blanchard. She didn't do it."
Killian wanted to believe that with his very soul. He believed that. But he couldn't let his guard down and show any partiality in this case, not even for a second, not even in front of the son he so desperately wanted to comfort at the moment. "That is what I'm trying to do, lad. I'm searching the apartment for any sign of a break in."
He wasn't sure why he was telling the lad all this. He knew he had to send the kid on his merry - or maybe not so merry - way back to school or his mother's house. But Killian was desperate for company. It had always been like this. He'd convinced himself he didn't need anyone after the loss of his parents and Liam, only to have Emma come barging into his life and become his everything. Now, a decade later, he'd been managing on his own, telling himself he didn't need anyone, but it had only taken one look from Henry and one kind word from Mary Margaret for his resolve to crumble. With Mary Margaret now locked behind bars - and by himself, no less, - Killian clung to his son's company as if it were the only thing that could keep him from falling apart.
"What signs?" Henry asked, bringing him back to the present.
"Busted door jambs, broken glass, muddy boot prints. That kind of thing." Killian waved his hand in the air as his eyes studied the windows with scrutiny.
"You think someone set her up?"
"I don't know, Henry," Killian sighed, resisting the urge to run his hand through his hair, instead collapsing backwards onto Mary Margaret's bed, his eyes focused on the ceiling. "What else could it be? But on the other hand, who would want to frame Mary Margaret?"
"My mom. She hates Snow White."
Of course.
Killian turned his head to the side, his eyes finding Henry's, ready to give his son a strong reprimand over his words. But when he met his hazel eyes, the look in his young face so much like Emma's, he knew he couldn't. "That won't hold up in court, lad."
A steady noise, as if something metallic were hitting a wall, interrupted his thoughts. Killian darted out of the bed, focusing his hearing to find the source of the sound, his eyes connecting with the intricate iron grate of the heating vent. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he removed the grate and stuck his hand in. It didn't take long for his fingers to make contact with cloth, a cloth that seemed to be wrapped around a solid object. With a growing sense of dread, he removed the object, thankful that he still was wearing his latex gloves. But soon his thoughts became a curse as he realized he was holding onto a hunting knife.
Bloody hell.
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Killian couldn't even remember the fuzzy details on what happened next, other than that he mumbled to Henry that he needed to leave and go back to school. After that, he was unable to bring himself off the floor, lying there for a while, looking at the marks on the wooden floor. He finally shook himself out of it and made a call. He waited for the forensic guy to show up and left the knife with him, instructing him to canvass the area for any prints he could find, although he had an inkling they wouldn't find any that didn't match him or Mary Margaret.
With a heavy heart, he made his way back to the Sheriff's Station. The sight of Mary Margaret behind bars almost did him in completely, but he knew he had to carry through this if he had any chance to help her. Breaking the news was hard enough, and the shock and hurt on her face was even worse to endure.
"The heating vent?" she asked, her voice small and insecure, her hands holding onto the bars. "Killian, I don't know where the heating vent in my room is."
"Someone did, and they planted a knife in it." He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he knew he had to keep his distance for appearance's sake. "I checked for signs of a break-in, and there is none."
She rested her forehead against the bars defeatedly. "You don't believe me."
Against all his better judgement, he was by the bars in an instant. "Mary Margaret, look at me," he pleaded with her. When she met his eyes, Killian did his best to reassure her. "I believe in you, lass. But there is evidence piling up against you by the hour. Every time I try to follow a lead to help clear your name, I run into more compromising evidence, that I can't just turn a blind eye." He took a deep breath, letting that sink in. "It's time for you to get a lawyer."
"An excellent idea." Killian turned around as the voice resonated in the room and groaned internally at the sight of Gold on the other side.
"What in the blazes are you doing here?" Killian spat, putting a little distance between himself and Mary Margaret and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'm offering my legal services," Gold said with a smug grin.
What? It seemed that Gold was able to read Killian's implicit question in his shocked expression, because he kept talking as he walked towards them. "Ever wondered why I was so adept at contracts? I've been following the details of your case, Miss Blanchard. And I think you'd be well-advised to bring me on as your counsel."
"Why is that?" Mary Margaret asked, drying the tears in her eyes and wrapping herself further into her cardigan. She looked so fragile at the moment, that Killian groaned inwardly at the idea of her fate in Gold's hands.
Gold kept his smug grin plastered on his face: "The Sheriff had me arrested for nearly beating a man to death, and I managed to persuade the judge to drop the charges."
Killian felt the rage flooding him at the blatant intention of the other man's words. "Asserting your influence by buying people's beliefs isn't what's needed here, Gold."
"It might be exactly what is needed here."
"No. I need to do my job and find the truth!" Killian replied, getting closer to losing his temper at the other man.
"Enough." Mary Margaret's voice was barely a whisper, but it made Killian stop. "He's right, Killian. I need help."
Killian took two steps and faced her with a pleading voice. "Mary Margaret, I know people. I can make a phone call and get you some of the best lawyers in Boston to look into your case. Please, let me help."
She smiled sadly at him. "You can't get me a lawyer, Killian. You know how it would look. If you happen to find any evidence that absolves me, people can say you fabricated it. You have to stay out of it."
She was right and he hated it that she was right. He hated that the only choice was to leave her in the hands of a man that didn't do anything out of the goodness of his heart. "May Margaret, please don't do this," he pleaded one last time.
Her hand reached for his through the bars and squeezed it. "You need to do your job, Killian, or else I'm screwed. So, just please – do your job the best you can, and you'll prove me innocent. Until you do, I'm going to get Gold to help me."
"Trust me. This is in Miss Blanchard's best interests."
Killian turned around and towered over Gold. "You better have her best interests in mind or you'll answer to me, Gold."
With the threat looming over them, he took a final step and left Mary Margaret with Gold, hoping it wasn't the worse decision he'd ever made.
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When Gold left, Killian checked on Mary Margaret, but she seemed aloof and distracted. After ensuring she was settled and didn't need anything else from him, Killian headed back to the loft, a few heavy folders under his arm, determined to spend the rest of the day - and night - finding something to exonerate Mary Margaret.
He was climbing the stairs when Henry's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"I have proof." The lad held up a ring that held several keys. They looked old and rusty, as if they belonged in a medieval age museum. "This is how my mom broke in and framed Miss Blanchard."
Oh Lord.
"Henry, did you take these from your mother?" Killian rose an eyebrow at his son, his finger pointing to the ring. "Did you steal them?"
Henry didn't acknowledge the shrill note to Killian's voice. "Yeah. The book says they can open any door."
Killian tilted his head and took one step closer to examine the keys. There was no way those things could have worked. If Henry would have found a set of picks like the one he used to open locks then maybe he could consider it, but these….
"This won't fit in the lock, lad," he said gently, trying to ease down his son's expectations.
"We have to try!" Henry jumped to his feet and quickly moved to try the keys in the lock. Killian noticed how his shoulders slumped with each unsuccessful try.
"Henry…" Killian called, his hand reaching to stop Henry's movement. "I know you want to believe all the answers lie in the book and a cursed town, but you have to start living in reality, lad."
"Just one more?" Henry begged, not willing to let the matter go just yet. He held one skeleton key out to him. "Can you try this one?"
He should say no. He should take this nonsense and nip it in the bud. But Killian was defenseless against his son's pleading eyes.
Taking the key from his fingers, he silently tried it on the lock, his heart skipping a bit when it opened the door of the loft.
Bloody hell. This can't be happening.
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Killian decided to keep this discovery to himself, knowing full well that any proof he acquired by testing a stolen skeleton key wouldn't hold up in court. He needed more - much more - and it would have to be obtained by legal methods in order to even think of pointing his accusing finger to Regina. As much as he hated it, he needed to wait this one out and keep on going through the motions while investigating on the side.
He was plotting out his next move as he headed back to the station and ran into David. The man seemed distracted, as if he were carrying a heavy weight in his heart. He'd pleaded with Killian to see Mary Margaret and while a huge part of Killian rebelled against the idea, he knew that Mary Margaret would like to see him. Maybe David could give her a little bit of hope and strength to endure this trial. Killian motioned for David to go into the station while he headed quickly to Granny's to grab some coffee.
He was making his way back into the station when the sound of Mary Margaret's voice made his blood run cold.
"When your phone records came back, when I found you wandering in the woods, when everyone thought you killed Kathryn, I stood by you. I never once doubted you."
Killian took a deep breath, calming himself as he stealthily entered the room. Mary Margaret was standing and even from the distance, Killian could see the way she was crossing her arms over herself, her chin quivering as if she were having a tough time keeping it together.
"And, now that everything is pointing to me, you actually think I am capable of that kind of evil?"
Killian fisted his hand at his side, wanting to pummel David. He was about to take a step when Mary Margaret spoke again, tears streaming down her face.
"Get. Out."
David tried to take a step towards Mary Margaret's cell, but Killian quickly jumped into action the moment he saw Mary Margaret taking a step back.
"Leave, mate," he all but spat the words, striding purposefully into the room, his eyes levelling against David's. "You asked to see her and I thought maybe it was a good idea for her to have some support other than me… and this is what you came to say to her? Fill her heart with the despair of your doubt? Leave, now… you don't deserve her."
You'll never deserve her.
He watched David's eyes filled with tears as he took his leave, but Killian couldn't find it in his heart to feel sorry for the man. Only one thing invaded his thoughts; Henry had got it all wrong. There was no way that man had fathered him.
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Killian volunteered to spend the night with Mary Margaret at the station, but she'd refused profusely, sending him home to the loft. It wasn't a night where he got much sleep and the early morning call to the forensics department only cemented his worse fears. He picked some coffee and breakfast from Granny's for Mary Margaret and headed to the station.
Mary Margaret was sitting on the cot when he entered the station. "I brought you breakfast," he announced as he slid the cup and bag through the cell bars. Mary Margaret took the items but refused to meet his eyes.
Killian pushed through the sadness this entire situation was causing him and tried to maintain a level tone. "I know Gold probably instructed you not to talk to me, and I understand why, but I want you to hear from me that the DNA results came back positive for Kathryn Nolan." He swallowed hard and met Mary Margaret's eyes. "She's dead."
Mary Margaret remained silent, as if she weren't listening to him, her gaze lost in the distance. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded small and uncertain. "This means you have enough evidence for a case against me, doesn't it?"
Killian forced himself to continue. "Aye. But you know I believe you, right? All of this only tells me that you're being framed."
"Framed? By whom?"
"Regina. I'm certain but-"
"But you can't prove it. And this is her town. Trying to build a case against her is almost impossible, Killian."
"I will do it. I promise. I will get you out of here." Killian reached to hold Mary Margaret's hand through the bars. "I need you to have faith in me, Mary Margaret."
She lowered her gaze as she spoke. "I have faith in you."
He could hear the lie in her voice, and while part of Killian's heart broke at it, he also couldn't blame her. Regina was powerful, and Killian was nothing but a simple man, tilting at windmills on his own.
He needed help and as much as he hated it, he knew what he had to do if he wanted to save his friend.
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He hated being here, he did, but he had no other choice. Killian sighed as he stepped into Gold's shop and called for the man. It was less than a minute before the other man showed up, limping slowly as he held a lamp in his hand.
"What can I do for you, Sheriff?" Killian didn't miss the disdain with which Gold pronounced the last word and while he wanted nothing more than to simply turn around and walk out, he knew he couldn't afford to. "Any developments in the case I should be aware of?"
Killian tilted his head to the side. "She's being framed."
That seemed to pique Gold's interest. "By whom?"
"Regina."
"I'm not surprised," Gold said, his hand grabbing a magnifying glass to study the lamp. "Where's your evidence?"
"Well, that is the crux of the matter, Gold. I have nothing that can hold up in court."
"So just your faith?" Gold spat, smirking at him. "Are you here to discuss your hunches with me?"
Killian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to say the words. "I need your help."
"I seemed to recall you telling me you'd never wanted to liaise with the likes of me."
Gold was not going to make this easier on him, but Killian was willing to take it. Mary Margaret had to come first. "May Margaret needs your help, Gold. Every time I try to go against Regina, she sees it coming. I need a chance to save my friend."
Gold examined him. "Are you willing to go as far as it takes?"
For Mary Margaret? For the one person other than Henry that had trust in him and welcomed him with open arms? "Whatever it takes."
Gold smirked. "Now we're talking. Fear not, Mr. Jones. Regina may be powerful, but something tells me you're more powerful than you know."
Killian felt as if he'd just sold himself and Mary Margaret to the most despicable evil that ever existed.