Thanks a bunch to the reviewers. All the Questions you have will be answered as the story progresses and....Well the only way i can describe this concoction i call a story is i've been watching lifetime alot so this is sorta like a lifetime movie. ya know when one scene plays out then it shoots to a flash back and you're not sure whose havin it til the end? ya, like that. and about what Sam said to freddie in chapter one, it'll be answered next chapter. til then, review please.
Sam Puckett couldn't believe where she was. She hadn't been arrested since she was fifteen for beating up that guy who was giving Freddie trouble. The room was just how she remember it. Uncomfortable, cold, and slightly scary. The only reason she had been in this room the first time was because he lied and said she tried to stab him. With her record, she coulda been facing serious juvie time. She blinks and shakes her head.
"Damn Puckett, couldn't even keep this promise." she mutters. Her eyes snap up as the door opens and the detectives walk in.
"First," Marlon pauses. "We would like to thank you for your cooperation. Secondly, we advise you call a lawyer." he says. She shakes her head.
"No, I can answer now." she says confidently.
"Alright then, we've got some more questions for ya, and you need to be honest." Tasha says. Sam takes a deep breath...
"Where are we going?" three year old Sam asks. The taller figure, or 'Dad', glances down at her.
"Well, you said you wanted to go play. I'm taking you to our house so you can play in the backyard." he says. "We've been living in that dirty apartment for months, don't you want a real home?" he asks. The little girl nods her head eagerly..
"Yeah, but I wanna play atta park." she whines. He stops and picks her up.
"Do you remember what we talked about?" he asks out of the blue. She furrows her brow.
"About the park?"she inquires. Despite himself, he can't help but smile.
"No, about what you say if anybody asks you any questions about your mommy.." he clarifies. She nods her head sadly.
"Uh huh. That is 'posed'a say that she had to go away and my daddy is takin cared of me. A-and that I gotta sister named Carly and a big brother named Spe-Spe..." the little girl pauses. "Spinner!" she exclaims happily.
"Spencer sweetie." he corrects. She frowns and shrugs.
"S'whatever." she says. After a few minutes she breaks another silence. "Why did you taked me away from mommy?" she asks in a small voice reminding him just how old she is.
"Cus she told me to come get you." she looks up at him showing just because she's three doesn't mean she's stupid. He doesn't elaborate though. He just smiles.
"Why'd you lie?" Tasha asks Sam for the fifth time.
"I told you, I honestly thought I was still with him at nine thirty." Sam explains in exasperation. Tasha stands up and paces the room.
"Well then what did you do after you left the waffle house?" she asks annoyed.
"Went to the studio the record a few tracks." Sam says with a shrug.
"You went to the studio?" Marlon confirms. Sam nods.
"Yeah, I've got a new album coming out in May and with it being March I gotta work extra hard." she says like it's common knowledge.
"Do you have proof of being there?" Marlon asks. Sam thinks.
"Yeah, should be on the log. I remember it being around nine forty something." she says. Tasha smiles a what can only be described as a non-helping smile.
"Actually the log doesn't have you signed in until ten am. Which means there's an entire hour you have unaccounted for." Marlon says. Sam's eyebrows furrow.
"That can't be right." she says. "Can I see that log?" she questions.
"Look at what I made today daddy!" an excited four year old Sam exclaims.
"I helped!" three year old Carly says from her side.
"Yeah, me and Carly did it." their 'father' smiles.
"Oh, that's cool. Macaroni art that looks like a bus." sixteen year old Spencer says noticing the artwork.
"We made you something too." Sam says happily. Spencer's eyes light up. He's not the typical sixteen year old boy. He'd drop all his plans to hang out with his little sisters without a complaint.
"Really?! Where is it?" he asks.
"Close you eye." Carly says. Spencer closes his eyes.
"You can open em." he hears them both say at the same time. When he does he sees a big banner in bright letters that says 'We luv our bruther!' written in surprisingly neat handwriting.
"You guys did this for me?!" he asks excitedly. The girls nod.
"Carly drew the pictures, I wrote the letters." Sam says.
"I'm gonna put it up in my locker at school." he says happily.
"This isn't my handwriting." Sam says. Tasha raises an eyebrow.
"No?" she questions. Sam shakes her head.
"No." Sam says.
"Then whose is it?" Marlon questions. Sam shrugs.
"To be honest I don't know. I've never seen it before." she says. Marlon and Tasha exchange glances.
"Are you sure?" Tasha asks.
"I've sorta lived with my self around twenty some even years, I think I'd recognize my own handwriting." Sam says rolling her eyes. Marlon cuts in before Tasha can say something smart.
"Could you copy that for us? So we can run a comparison." he asks. Sam nods.
"Sure thing." she does as told. She hands over the piece of paper to the two detectives and they both raise an eyebrow.
"You are aware that these look identical?" Tasha asks in a sarcastic voice.
"Yeah and? You are aware that I don't care what you're thinkin?" Sam asks smartly. Tasha rolls her eyes.
"Sarcasm isn't going to get you anywhere but thrown into jail." she says leaning over the table.
"And no evidence isn't going to get your department anything but a bad name." Sam says leaning closer.
"You egotistical li-"
"Oh, name calling. Feels like elementary school again." Sam retorts.
"You know wh- I don't have time for you. There's a little girl missing and I'm almost sure you had somethihn to do with it." Tasha says.
"Trust me. I had nothin to do with it." Sam mutters.
"And why should we believe you?" Sam asks. Sam's eyes darken.
"Do your homework and find out." Sam retorts.
"Sam, what's wrong?" her father asks her. She looks up, fragile and afraid.
"I want my mommy." she says. He kneels down.
"Sam, you've been with me for a hear. I'm your family and you know it." he tells the little girl. "I'm sorry but you're never gonna see your mommy again." he says. Sam's eyes widen.
"Why?" she asks. Her father shrugs.
"Cus she said she didn't want to see you." he tells her.
"Bu-" he cuts her off.
"That's the end of it." he says leaving no room for argument.
"What do you think she meant by 'do your homework and find out'?" Marlon asks. Tasha shrugs.
"Don't know but the results came back." she says looking at the fax received about the handwriting analysis.
"And?" Marlon persists excitedly.
"The handwriting from the center, the studio, and the paper she signed earlier are identical." Tasha says.
"So that means she's our girl." Marlon says.
"That means that something isn't right. No handwriting is ever exactly the same. All signatures are different. Not significantly but there's always a difference." she explains.
"So you're saying that those other two were forged?" he questions. Tasha nods. "But how? I mean, wouldn't it show up on the tape at the daycare?" he asks. Tasha nods.
"It should." she says. "We have to let her go." she says.
"What? Why? I mean, we've got her on tape." Marlon says. Tasha sighs.
"Actually, if the signature is forged, we have to recheck the tape meaning that could have very well not been her. Or the tape could have been altered." Tasha says. Marlon sighs.
"So you're sayin that everything is riding on this tape?" he asks.
"No. just some very important stuff." she replies.
Sam stops running around the park for no apparent reason. She turns and glances and sees a police officer. She kneels in front of the little girl.
"What's your name?" the officer asks.
"Sam." she says innocently.
"How old are you?"
"Four."
"What's your last name?"
"P-"
"Sam! What are you doing?!" her father says coming to her. He picks up the little girl. "Stay away from my daughter." he says walking off with her. Sam waves to the officer over her father's shoulder. The officer stands there for a few long moments before walking back to her car.
"This is officer Melinda Johnston with the Seattle PD requesting chief Reynolds." she radios in.
"Reynolds."
"Sir." she greets.
"I told you not to use the radio."
"I checked into that." she says ignoring him.
"And?"
"That's not the kid." she says. The chief sighs.
"I'll call her mother." he says. Melinda closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
"Maybe I can finally get that paid vacation." she mutters.