Sorry this took so long folks. My computer was sick and it had to be air-lifted to the ER. (AKA it broke and I had to send it back to the company who paid for it to be shipped via airmail.) Only one chapter left after this!

A very special thanks to LadyLanera who helped me with the interview. I could not have written this without her help.

Chapter 5: Susceptibility, Part Two

Friday Afternoon

Sharon pushed all thoughts of Rusty aside as she opened the door to Electronics. Taylor was in there along with Tao and Buzz, all of them focused intently on the monitors. None of them looked up when she came in and closed the door behind her.

"Is there something I can help you with, Chief?" Sharon asked, trying not to sound too eager. Sitting in her office while her team worked a case without her, especially one that involved her, was not an easy task.

"Well, Captain," Taylor began before looking up at her. He paused with his mouth hanging open and looked over the rim of his glasses. "What happened to you?"

She blinked unsure what he meant and tilted her head slightly to ask him to explain. As she did so, a piece of frizzy, flat, lifeless hair fell in front of her eyes.

Oh. Right.

She'd almost forgotten about her hair. She pushed the strand out of her eyes as she smiled tightly and gritted her teeth.

Taylor, realizing his error, recovered quickly and cleared his throat before he changed the subject. "Uhh…right. So, we have our killer. He doesn't want a lawyer. He's very insistent on that point. But he doesn't want to talk to us either."

Tao, his eyes still on the monitors, spoke up. "Apparently, he hates lawyers." Mike's gaze shifted to her as he continued on. "More than Provenza if you can believe it. Did you change your hair?"

If she gritted her teeth any harder, they would break.

Buzz turned to look at her then, and she gave him a look that very clearly told him that nothing good would come of him commenting on her appearance today.

The door to the Electronics room opened once more and admitted both Detectives Sykes and Flynn.

Sharon turned to face them, watching as Flynn spoke. His eyes remained fixed on the folder in his hand as he closed the door behind him. "So get this. Our psycho here is married." He glanced up and immediately his face grew concerned as he saw his captain. "Are you okay, Sharon? You don't look so good."

She almost screamed. Almost. Before she could reply, Amy's always cheerful voice reached her ears.

"Bad hair day, Captain?" Amy inquired in what she thought was probably a sympathetic tone. The smile on the woman's face, however, tempered any empathy she may have been trying to convey. "I hate that. It's why I always bring something to put my hair up with."

Taylor cleared his throat, refocusing everyone's attention. "Our suspect has agreed to confess, Captain. In fact, he's eager to do so. But he's made it very clear that that is only going to happen if you're in there. He wants to talk to you."

Mentally, Sharon chastised herself for being eager to help. Going into an interview room with that man was not what she had in mind. Especially if he was eager to see her.

"It gets worse," Flynn added, moving to stand beside her so he could show her the folder he'd been looking at. "This is his wife. According to her financials, she's had a great deal of plastic surgery to look like this. She says her husband pressured her into getting all the work done on herself."

Sharon looked at the picture in disbelief. It was almost like looking at a picture of herself. The eyes were a different color; however, the person in the photo could have been her sister. Her twin sister. "What's her name?"

"Linda Daniels," Flynn replied.

Sharon's head shot up.

"Yeah," Flynn continued, "she went to the same dance class you went to."

"She didn't look like that then." Sharon realized as the words came out of her mouth that it wasn't the most intelligent comment she'd ever made. She'd just been told the woman had undergone extensive plastic surgery.

"You don't have to talk him, Sharon," Taylor said softly. "We have DNA evidence. It's a solid case."

"But all the evidence in the world isn't as good as a confession," Sharon continued. "I'll join Provenza and Julio in the interview. Excuse me."

"Captain," Taylor's voice stopped her, "there's something else."

"Sharon," Evan Daniels said as she walked into the room. He started to stand, but Julio's hand kept him firmly in his seat. "You're as beautiful as I remember."

Sharon didn't reply. Instead, she took a seat next to Provenza. However, a small very vain part of her enjoyed the compliment considering the Bad Hair Day she was having. She'd decided on the walk from Electronics to the interview room that the next person to comment on the state of her hair would regret it.

"I've been waiting a very long time to see you again."

Sharon didn't reply. They didn't need her too. They only needed her presence for this confession.

"Well, that's not entirely true, now is it?" Provenza asked, as he opened a folder to show the suspect a picture.

Sharon didn't need to look at it. Taylor had filled her in already. Evan Daniels had been following her for the last few months. Six months to be exact. Ever since his wife had had a miscarriage.

Evan didn't take his eyes off of her as Provenza continued.

"Now, what do you say you tell us what happened? Save us all some time."

Still, Evan didn't take his eyes off of her, and Sharon held his gaze. Neither spoke. Evan remained focused on her. His eyes open slightly wider than normal in excitement. His breathing was faster than it had been before Sharon entered the room. He sat up straight and leaned towards her. He acted like a starving man who had been presented with a five-course meal he was unable to eat.

"Hey!" Julio slammed his palm against the table causing Evan to jump slightly. It was only then that Evan finally tore his eyes off Sharon for the first time since she entered the room.

Sharon's eyes traveled to Julio as well. As usual, his expression was mostly unreadable. But she'd known him long enough now to know better. She'd seen him work. She'd seen how much he cared about those he worked with. When their eyes met, she knew that he didn't want her in there. That he wanted to shield her from what she was about to hear.

It would do no good to tell him that she didn't need his protection. He'd give it to her anyway.

She shifted her attention back to Evan. He was staring at her again as though trying to memorize everything about her.

"I love you," Evan said quietly. "I've always loved you. But I didn't kill her."

Sanchez scoffed instantly. "Then tell us who did."

"Because the way we see it, Evan," Provenza said, picking up right where Sanchez had left off, "all the evidence points to you." He pulled out of the folder a photo of the bloody footprints that were around the victim's body. "Made with a men's size 10 sneaker." He then pulled out another photo, a sneaker with bloody tread. "This here shows a Men's 10 sneaker our officers found in the trash can outside your home. See that?" Provenza pointed to the tread. "That's the victim's blood on the bottom of your shoe. And if that wasn't enough," the Lieutenant pulled out a piece of paper, pushing it forward "we have your DNA inside the victim. So, let's recap, shall we? We have you at the scene of the crime, as evidenced by the bloody shoes and footprints that match. We have evidence that you sexually assaulted our victim. And we have—"

Sharon caught Evan's slight jerk before he glanced away from her to the detectives.

"I didn't kill her," he repeated.

"I don't believe you." Sanchez stated coldly.

"It was my wife. Linda. She killed her. Them. Not me. I just . . . it wasn't me." He turned back to return his gaze at Sharon. "I couldn't hurt her. I couldn't, Sharon. I couldn't ever hurt you." He gave her a soft smile. "I love you."

Friday Evening

She stared at the Murder Board as her detectives took down the pictures. This case had a twist that they hadn't seen coming. Evan Daniels hadn't killed their victim. Not directly anyway. He'd married his wife and at first had been the perfect husband. Things had changed quickly. Then they'd met Sharon. Linda had seen the opportunity and taken it. She changed her appearance more and more over the years to look just like the woman her husband had become obsessed with. Then she'd started helping him lure girls to their death, but took no part in killing them.

That had gone on for years. Then there had been the girl from fifteen years ago. Evan's obsession about Sharon had waned when he'd met that girl. The girl had found out she was pregnant and intended on leaving her dancing career behind. She told Evan, who she thought was a friend, of her plans. He hadn't taken it well. His wife had done the dirty work that time. Killing the girl in the studio and writing the words on the wall for him while he danced. With the girl dead, he had shifted his focus back to Sharon—and his wife went back to finding victims for her husband.

The same thing had happened with their latest victim, Susan Caine. It had been Evan's wife who killed her and decorated the walls while he raped the woman's corpse and danced in her blood.

Had this sort of thing happened to Sharon during her first few years on the force, before Jack left, she would have been at home in a puddle of tears right now. Sharon didn't miss the girl she used to be. Now, she just felt like she needed a shower. A hot one. The electricity had better be working when she got home.

Home. With Rusty. As relieved as she was, her heart sank a little. They'd have to talk, and she didn't want to tonight. She wanted to go home with her baby boy and maybe watch a movie. Maybe call her other babies. Or at least Ricky. She'd spoken to Emily yesterday and she tried very hard not to "hover" over her children. Maybe she'd call her parents…

The voice in her head—that sounded suspiciously like her mother—told her that she would not be calling anyone until she sat down and had a talk with Rusty. Mentally she sighed.

"Captain," Lieutenant Provenza said as he came to stand beside her. "Sharon, next time you or one of your children" he gestured to Rusty, "attracts a stalker, could you at least make sure he's not psychotic?"

"Or," Flynn added as he came to stand by her other side. "Just stop attracting them."

"Although," Provenza picked up "how you attract them with your hair looking like that I have no idea."

"Hey!" Flynn spoke up with fake indignation. "We all like different things. Nothing's wrong with that. Maybe some guys like women who look like they just stuck their finger in a light socket."

Sharon tried to be angry at them, but instead lowered her head to hide her laugh, although she was sure her shaking shoulders gave it away. She more than appreciated their effort even if it came at the expense of her vanity.

Soon she lifted her head, wearing a straight face. "Lieutenants, the day I need hair care tips from two men who've worn their hair the same since the 80's, I'll be sure to let you know. Then, I'll send both of you to sensitivity training." She smiled at them. "Again."

They turned slightly to stand in front of her, overly exaggerated shock evident in their posture.

"What?" Flynn said. "What'd we say?"

"Captain," Provenza added, "I think you should have your hearing checked out. We were just telling you how beautiful this new hairstyle of yours looks."

So, what did you guys think of the conversation between Provenza, Flynn, and Raydor?