A/N: I'm finally getting off my lazy bum (not literally, because I sit down to write) and writing this chapter. After this one, it will be one or two more and then it'll be finished. Should be great! And to those who have patiently (and impatiently) waited for my big plot twist….*drum roll please* HERE IT IS FOR YOUR READING PLEASURE!
This chapter is going to start in Lassie's POV and then switch to Shawn's somewhere in the middle.
Beta: As always, the lovely, insane, and sometimes *insert funny adjective here*….TalaDentro! For she is the one who helped me with the interrogation scene AND fixed a plot hole I didn't even know was there!
Chapter the Next: Not My Baby
I shoved the doors to the precinct open and shouted for Buzz. He came running up, his voice slightly shaking as he asked what I needed.
"Get Madeleine Spencer back in an interrogation room now! And get Shawn down here, too. He'll be whining for weeks if he isn't here when I crack this thing wide open!" I shouted, walking to my desk. "Oh, and one more thing, Buzz. I want you to get a warrant and search her hotel room."
"Yes, Sir." He said, running off.
"Detective! What is all this shouting about?" The chief asked as she appeared in front of my desk.
"I just figured out who killed Detective Spencer." I muttered, glancing up at her before hearing a familiar voice ring through the air.
"Lassie! What's all this about?" Shawn asked, striding towards my desk. "Buzz said you walked in here raising hell."
"It seems the detective here has solved the case." Karen said. "He's so excited about it; I think I'll be joining you in observation, Mr. Spencer."
"I just need confirmation on who it is." I looked up and my anger quickly faded, replaced by pure determination. "And here comes the person who is going to help me do it." The two people at my desk turned to see Ms. Spencer being led to an interrogation room. I hopped up and took over, leading the small group to Room A. After she sat down, I heard the click from the Observation room door and began, my words chosen with careful consideration.
"Mrs. Spencer, I just need to ask you a few more questions about this case, if that's alright?"I asked.
"Of course, detective. What do you want to know?" She asked, innocent as ever.
"Do you know a woman by the name of Mary Andrews?" I asked, watching her carefully. She kept her face very composed, but her eyes….her eyes told a different story.
"I'm afraid I don't. Does she have something to do with all of this?"
"She is no longer a suspect. However I do find it quite interesting that you say you don't know her. Interesting because she says you two are good friends. She says you turned her on to that Abracafabulous lotion." I replied, working against wincing at the name of the lotion. It really was ridiculous.
"Mary Andrews? Oh! Wait, I do know her. Yes, Henry worked on case a few years back for her and her husband. I saw her the other day at the boutique where I buy the lotion. We got to talking and I suggested it to her. There wasn't anything nefarious about it, I assure you."
"Alright. There is still something very strange about all this." I said, shaking my head slightly.
"What's weird, Detective?"
"Well, it's weird that you would lie to the police about knowing Mrs. Andrews. It's also strange that you are friends with a woman whose husband owns a gun that is the same make and model as the one who shot your husband." Mrs. Spencer's face hardened when I say this.
"I don't know her. I am acquainted with her. It was only a chance meeting between us. It lasted five minutes."
"Then why does she claim that you two have been close friends for years? Why did she say that you asked to borrow her husband's gun for, oh what was it? That's right! Protection. But what from, I wonder?" It was now that I knew for sure I would have her soon. Her lip started to quiver ever so slightly and her eyes darted to both walls and then to the two-way before resting back on me. The room was filled with silence for a full minute before she burst out of her chair.
"She's obviously lying! How do you know she didn't do it? That she isn't just trying to frame me!"
"Probably because she has an air-tight alibi and no motive. But you, Mrs. Spencer, have no alibi whatsoever. And as his ex-wife, it's practically a given that you would have a motive!" She leaned in close to me with one of the greatest glares she could muster.
"Now see here! I am a respected member of this community who was married to a cop for many years. I know my rights. You have no evidence and therefore cannot hold me here! So unless you have some questions for me that DON'T include accusing me of killing my ex-husband, I will be contacting my lawyer!"
POV SHIFT TO SHAWN
I sat in observation, watching as Lassiter grilled my mother. I didn't understand why he thought my mom was the murderer. But he did. So I watched as she stood up and accused him of incompetency. I stood, reaching for the door. This was ridiculous and I was going to put a stop to it.
"Mr. Spencer, wait. Look." The chief said, pointing into the room on the other side of the window. I looked up and saw Buzz whispering something in Lassiter's ear. Worry ran through me when I saw the small smile appear and disappear on his lips. He turned back to my mom as Buzz left the room.
"I think calling your lawyer will be a very good idea, Mrs. Spencer. While you were here, I had a few of our officers get a warrant and go to your hotel room. Guess what they found there? A gun. A Smith & Wesson Model 22A Pistol. Can you explain it?"
"Yes. It is going to be a gift for a friend of mine who likes guns." I could hear the lie in her tone and my breath became shallow.
"Don't lie to me, Ma'm. Why do you have that gun?"
"FINE! I did it! I killed my husband. I did. And I'm glad I did too! He was hurting MY LITTLE BOY! My son! I couldn't live with myself any longer, knowing what he was doing to my baby!" I stood there, frozen. Watching as my mother broke down in tears. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the chief turn to me with a shocked look. A look that matched the one on Lassie's face as he turned back to look at the two-way that separated us.
