Thank you all for your comments on the last chapter. I'm still amazed at the response this story has been getting. You are all wonderful :)

Note: Peter Page is the lawyer from 'Backfire'. I thought he'd be an appropriate one to take on a client who's arrogant, awful and wants to get sentenced for far less than he actually deserves ;).

A Tangled Web (30)

" –and it's been over forty-eight hours since you've had my client in custody, so you're less than a day from habeas corpus kicking in –"

"Habeas corpus?" Andrea's eyebrows rose in incredulity. "Mr. Page – we are going to charge your client. There's no doubt that he set off those bombs. The issue here is what we charge him with, and whether you'd like to spare him a trial in–"

"That's why we're offering two counts of arson and one attempted voluntary manslaughter – although even that is a stretch," the lawyer amended with a huff, "as Dr. Jensen has already explained that he didn't mean for that bomb to go off when it did, when there were other people in that garage…"

"No, he meant for it to go off the next day," drawled Provenza, "with hundreds of people around."

The lawyer didn't rise to the bait.

Across the interview table, Hobbs leaned back in her chair. "Look , Peter – we're not taking that deal. The deal on the table is, first-degree attempted murder, against a peace officer, and your client confesses to the second-degree murder of Danny Murray. Life without parole."

"For arson? You're kidding me."

Next to him, Jensen scoffed disdainfully, earning himself two pointed stares from Provenza and the DDA.

His lawyer steepled his fingers. "You have no evidence to tie Dr. Jensen to the murder of that young man," he reminded them. "And we've already explained that the circumstances leading to Captain Raydor's injuries in that garage explosion were an accident. My client will be happy to explain that in front of a jury, if necessary."

"And what do you think, counselor, that a jury is going to say when we show them pictures of Danny? Or James Donnell, who – by some shocking coincidence," Provenza adopted an air of exaggerated surprise, "also ended up dead after dealing with your client."

"James Donnell threw himself off a bridge, lieutenant," Mr. Page pointed out, "and there's video to show that. As for Danny Murray, he was a disturbed young man, as evidenced by the fact that he kidnapped your captain… which you both seem intent on overlooking, by the way." He arched his eyebrows at them. "So there are probably many people out there who might have wished Mr. Murray harm. I'd suggest that you start with all his stoner friends, for one."

"In my experience, stoned college kids don't usually bash each other over the head and set each other's cars on fire," Provenza retorted.

"Well, in my experience that's not evidence that my client did it. So to be frank here…"

Watching the interview from electronics, Taylor shook his head. "This is getting us nowhere. That lawyer isn't going to take Hobbs's deal." He looked displeased. "We need more evidence against Jensen, or we've got nothing but the two bombs at the mall."

"I don't get it…" Buzz glanced up from his chair. "Why isn't that enough? They caught him red-handed. And he tried to kill Captain Raydor…"

"Which we can't prove." The Chief crossed his arms, glaring at the screens. "Attempted first-degree murder charges are hard to get to stick… at this moment, he's arguing that he detonated the bomb in the garage by accident, so it's Raydor's word against his. Oh, she's the more believable witness, sure," he acknowledged darkly, "but there's no guarantee…And, she would have to take the stand."

Buzz returned his gaze to the monitors. "Which Lt. Provenza and DDA Hobbs are trying to avoid."

"And Jensen's lawyer knows that," sighed Taylor.

" – sit here and argue until next Christmas," Mr. Page was saying, "but that doesn't change the fact that you've got your story wrong. There was no intent to harm anyone – on the contrary, Dr. Jensen was trying to ensure that a dangerous building wouldn't be open to the public. And there was certainly no murder, or attempted murder."

Across the table, Provenza tapped his pencil against his notepad, deliberately averting his gaze to avoid letting Jensen and his lawyer know just how much they were frustrating him. Next to him, Hobbs let out a slow breath. Unlike the lieutenant, she kept her eyes on the two men, and Erik Jensen's smug expression only made her more determined.

"Two counts of arson, five years, concurrent," the lawyer reiterated. "Seven years, if we forego the attempted manslaughter charges."

The DDA pressed her lips together. "You're a funny man, Peter."

"Or, we go to trial, and you put Captain Raydor on the stand. Up to you." The man nodded thoughtfully. "Or – you know, she could work just as well as a witness for the defense as for the prosecution, seeing as how she would have to tell the jury that my client didn't kidnap her…"

In electronics, Buzz's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Did he just threaten to put the Captain on the stand for the defense?" He turned a confused look on Taylor, who was looking increasingly displeased, shaking his head again.

"That," he said, "is a bluff. He's just banking on how much we'd like to avoid making Captain Raydor into a witness. The rest of it however, well… it's exactly as Mr. Page paints it. Not looking good for us."

"So… does this mean that DDA Hobbs will have to take the arson deal?"

Another headshake. "She's not going to let Jensen get away that easily... and she shouldn't, either. No… the way things are going, I'd say we're headed for a trial."

Buzz grimaced, and returned his attention to the screens.

" –but I think we'd all rather avoid a lengthy trial, isn't that right?"

"Not if the alternative is having your client get away with the intent to murder hundreds of people," Hobbs returned, "and the actual murder of at least one."

"We've already made clear that Dr. Jensen was trying to prevent people from getting hurt, in that unsafe construction. You know, how many of those jurors do you think regularly go to the mall?" The lawyer smiled. "Once they hear my client's side of things, we believe they'll be… sympathetic. He's a man with a civic conscience. He worked on that urban improvement project for years. Now, he's doing research on creating better, safer construction materials… I don't think I'll have a hard time persuading the jury that he meant to help. His intent was noble, even if his…execution…was a little flawed."

Andrea's eyebrows rose again. "A little flawed?" She'd run up against Peter Page before, and his nerve never ceased to amaze her. "He set off two bombs in a public site."

"When there was no one around," Page emphasized. "And that's what the seven years are for. Which is the best you're going to get from us," he stated. "Otherwise we take our chances on a jury."

"If we go –"

"One moment, DDA Hobbs." Provenza raised a hand to stop her; having been mostly silent for what felt like the fiftieth negotiation with Jensen and his lawyer, he decided that it was time to bring some new ammo to this battle. He picked up the tablet next to him on the table, and slid it forward. "Before you practice your closing argument some more, counselor," he said calmly, "which you seem convinced will persuade the jury of Mr. Jensen's upstanding character and strong civic conscience –"

"It's Doctor Jensen," muttered the man in question, but the lawyer waved him silent, and Provenza didn't even bat an eye.

" – I'd like to give you a little preview of what we have to show, on the issue of your client's noble motives."

He turned on the tablet, and a video came up on the screen.

Page's brow creased before the lieutenant had even hit 'play'. "What's this?" He glanced from Provenza to Hobbs. "If you interviewed my client in my absence, you know that none of this is admissible –"

"Relax, Peter," said the DDA. "No one broke your client's civil rights." Her lips curled in a small smile. "Why don't you enjoy the show?"

Provenza began to play the video.

Three hours before…

" –don't get why you think that this whole… charade is necessary." Flynn rolled his eyes, but had to follow his partner down the hall toward the interview rooms, just to continue the argument. "I should be at the hospital, Sharon's getting released this afternoon and she'll need someone to give her a ride home…"

Provenza pressed his lips together. "Yes, and unless you were planning to use a pedal boat, that someone isn't going to be you." With an eye roll of his own, he nodded to the brace on Andy's right shoulder. "Sanchez already released the Volvo from evidence, and sent a couple of uniforms to drop it off at the hospital. Rusty can drive Raydor home. And you," he pointed a finger at his partner for extra emphasis, "can be a lot more useful here – if you'll stop complaining long enough to listen to the plan."

"The only reason I'm complaining," countered Andy, "is because I don't see why you want me to go in there!"

"Because you're the only one of us that Jensen doesn't know."

"What does it matter if he knows me or not? We can't ask him anything without his lawyer present, and the only thing I want to do if you put me in the same room with him, is break that dirtbag's face!"

"We'll try to hold off on that until after the conviction," Provenza said wryly. "Look, just go in there and irritate the man. I don't expect it'll take you much effort," he deadpanned, "you do it to me all the time."

Andy pursed his lips, an annoyed grimace being his only reply.

Provenza explained further, "Hobbs thinks that Jensen's lawyer's gonna try to play up the 'unsafe structure' angle, make it seem like this guy's some sort of misguided local hero –"

"Hero? He's a goddamn psycho!"

"And it'd be nice to have the evidence to back that up," Provenza agreed. "So quit whining and get in there, before Hobbs runs out of ways to stall the lawyer."

Andy crossed his arms and exhaled impatiently. "What makes you think this is even gonna work?"

His partner scoffed. "Because I know a thing or two about harboring post-divorce resentment." He held out a hand toward the interview room a few feet away. "Enjoy. Oh and … try not make us have to call FID."

Andy rolled his eyes again.

Now…

Taylor's brow creased, and he turned a suspicious look on Buzz. "Why don't I know about this recording?"

The civilian cleared his throat. "Uh… I think you were in a meeting…? Anyway… DDA Hobbs said that this was all legal. Technically, Lt. Flynn didn't ask him any questions…"

The Chief let out a long breath, and focused back on the interview room feed; the camera angle didn't show the video, of course, but the audio was coming out well enough. With some satisfaction, he noticed that the cocky lawyer's smug expression waned with every passing second, while Jensen was turning an interesting shade of purple.

Good.

"Turn it up," he requested of Buzz. "I want to hear what was said."

Three hours before…

Erik Jensen looked up at the sound of the door opening, and turned immediately indignant. "You can't talk to me without my lawyer present. I know my rights."

Dirtbag.

"That's alright, Mr. Jensen," Andy assured him in as neutral a tone as he could handle. "I'm not here to ask you any questions."

"It's 'doctor'. And I'm not telling you anything. My lawyer warned me that you police people might try something like this – what, do you think I'd fall for your tricks?" He scoffed disdainfully. "I'm not saying anything. I have the right not to talk to you."

"And you should feel free to exercise that right." Asshole. "And like I said – I'm not here to ask you any questions. You absolutely don't need to talk to me."

Another scoff from Jensen, and Andy blinked away the image of his fist going through the man's face.

"Are you even allowed to be in here without my lawyer present?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." He cut himself off just before adding, 'scumbag'. Clearing his throat, he tried for a casual tone again. "Andrew Flynn," he introduced himself. "Doctor Jensen, I'm here on behalf of Ms. Susan Crowley, your ex-wife."

A satisfied smirk spread across the man's lips. "How is Sue?" he asked.

"I'm not authorized to answer any questions about that," Andy replied in his most affable tone, which at the moment consisted of a curt growl. "I'm only here to inform you about the additional restitution claim she'll be making when – or if – this case against you goes to trial."

That seemed to knock off some of Jensen's smugness. "Restitution claim?"

"That's right." Andy flipped open the thin folder he was carrying, and read off some forms that Tao had prepared for him. "Having suffered significant financial loss as a consequence of your actions, Ms. Crowley has filed a motion to apply additional penalties to whatever punishment you receive, in the form of financial restitution to her. Once the motion is approved, this will affect both your existing and projected income, so –"

Jensen cackled. "Just like her, trying to get all the money she can out of this. Well, bad news for Sue," he smirked again, "I don't have the millions of dollars to cover her 'financial losses'. She already got most of my money when we divorced a few years ago. Guess she should've spent them better," he murmured.

Little piece of – "Hey, I hear you." Andy nodded sympathetically. "Divorced once, myself. The ex took me for all I had."

"So you can tell Sue that I'm not gonna be making any restitutions." Jensen grinned. "Maybe the insurance can cover it. You should tell her to try that. And let me know how it goes." A pause, then – "Oh but I told Sue that her building was unsafe. All those shoppers who might've died. She should think less about the money and more about the lives I saved."

Andy gritted his teeth. "I'll be sure to pass that on."

"I was only trying to help, for the record. I never meant to hurt anyone."

"Mi – Doctor, you don't have to tell me that. This isn't an interview. I'm just passing on some information."

Jensen nodded, still looking pleased. "Go on, then. Does Sue have anything else to say?"

Andy looked back at the forms. "That's the gist of it," he said calmly. "The details of the restitution claim will be worked out once the police formally charges you. If the judge approves the additional penalties, you will be responsible for reimbursing your ex-wife for whatever funds she deems she's lost in this incident."

Another bitter laughter. "Too bad for her," Jensen repeated. "Don't have enough money left for her to rebuild her little business."

"Ms. Crowley is aware of that, but she's filing anyway. She believes it is only right for you to have to pay for your actions."

That got Jensen to look annoyed again. "Of course she does." He scoffed once more. "That stuck-up, arrogant bitch… doesn't care about anything but herself, her money, her life… can you believe this?"

"I hear you, pal," growled Flynn.

"Good thing I don't have money left to give her," the man grinned again. "I'd love to see her face when she hears that she's getting nothing. Nothing!"

Andy felt particularly satisfied to counter, "Yeah, that's not really how restitution works." He hummed, glancing through the forms again. "Once your current funds are evaluated and a large portion of them probably transferred to Ms. Crowley… the remaining balance will be taken out of all your future income…"

"What?"

How do you like that, asshole? "That's right. So until the sum is paid in full – Ms. Crowley is asking for two-point-eight million dollars, although of course the final amount will be up to the judge, but –"

"What?!" Jensen's voice had increased in volume and pitch. "She wants three million dollars?" He laughed again, then. "She's insane. How stupid would she have to be…?" Another laugh. "Three million dollars! Just like Sue. Asking for the moon. Well she's not going to be getting it, that's for sure. Oh she's gonna love that."

"Yes, like I said, Ms. Crowley is aware that the amount may not be paid in full during your lifetime, but –"

"What?"

" – but after your existing funds have been properly divided, half of your prison income will be transferred to her for the duration of your sentence, and –"

"What?!"

" –and after your release, any income you make, half of that will be automatically paid to her, for…well, basically the rest of your life."

"That bitch‼" Jensen shot up from his chair. "She thinks she can take more from me?! I gave her exactly what she deserved," he snapped. "And she's not getting a cent, I'll give it all away before I give it to her! Do you hear?!"

"I'm going to pass that on to Ms. Crowley, too," Andy said calmly.

"You tell that arrogant, backstabbing bitch that I'll enjoy watching her penniless! I want her to know that I'm not giving her anything! She's ruined! Ruined! I ruined her! Ask her how that feels, huh? How does it feel to be the one left with nothing, Sue? And – "

Now…

Provenza paused the video.

"It continues in that vein," he said kindly in the ensuing silence. "I believe the words 'she got what she deserved' are mentioned a couple more times… and there's some other colorful language in there that I'm sure a jury will appreciate."

The lawyer cut a displeased sideways glance to Jensen, who had turned an angry shade of red, and looked ready to pick up his rant where the video had left it off.

"That is entrapment," he sputtered. "You –"

"Doctor Jensen," Page cut him off, "please don't say anything else."

"This is not legal!"

"Unfortunately, it is," smiled Hobbs. "Anything you say can and will be used you against you, et caetera…"

"So." Provenza pulled the tablet back toward him, turning it off. "I think it's safe to say that the argument that your client was only nobly trying to save lives has become a little…shaky. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Page?"

"You people don't have a –"

"Erik." The lawyer sounded irritated. "Don't say anything else, please."

Jensen crossed his arms, muttering something under his breath.

There were a few moments of silence. Hobbs and Provenza exchanged a brief look, more cautious than optimistic.

Finally, the lawyer leaned forward. "Fifteen years," he said. "Two counts of arson, concurrent. One count of second-degree attempted murder."

The DDA and the lieutenant exchanged another look, and Hobbs motioned subtly toward the door.

"You're not considering that offer," Provenza said almost as soon as they were out in the corridor, the interview room door closed behind them. "Fifteen years is a far stretch from life without parole."

Andrea let out a slow breath. "We might want to start considering going down from there – okay, just listen to me for a second, alright?"

"I thought we wanted the same thing here, Hobbs" the lieutenant said reproachfully.

"We do – but first-degree attempted murder is difficult to argue successfully under better circumstances than ours."

"So you're afraid to lose in court."

Hobbs frowned. "Do you want me to put Captain Raydor on the stand, and go through a long trial, just to end up with a fifteen, twenty year sentence anyway?" At Provenza's glower, she sighed again. "Look… I'll go to trial over this. I'll bring this guy up on arson and first-degree attempted murder – multiple counts, even, although there's almost no way to prove that he meant to set off the bombs when there were people in the mall. I'll even go so far as filing for second-degree murder for Danny Murray," she said. "But you should know that anything outside the arson charges rests almost entirely on what Captain Raydor has to say. She's going to be at the front of my case, and there's still a very good chance that we will not get life without parole."

Provenza clenched his jaw, glaring at a point on the wall. "So what do you suggest?"

The door to electronics opened, then, and Taylor came out, walking over to join them. Hobbs gave him a brief glance to acknowledge his presence, then turned back to answer:

"I think we should consider his plea for two counts of arson and one second-degree attempted murder of a police officer," she said honestly, "and I'll ask for a twenty-year minimum. Keep in mind that if I go to court and win, the best we'll probably get is life with the possibility of parole after fifteen years."

Provenza swore under his breath. "I don't like this, Hobbs! Not only did that man try to kill Raydor – very deliberately, I might add, despite this second-degree nonsense – but with this kind of deal, he's getting away with the deaths of those two young men!"

"What do you want me to say?" She sighed, looking no happier than he did. "There's no way we'll get him for Donnell's death. Manslaughter at best, and he won't even need much skill to argue self-defense. And you don't have any evidence in the Murray murder!"

"Yet," the lieutenant argued, "we don't have anything on him yet! Tao and the others are still following up on what the Captain told us!"

"We have until tomorrow evening to formally charge Jensen," Andrea reminded them, "and I will wait until the last possible second, but unless you find something by then, it's either call it second-degree murder – and make it impossible for us to prosecute it as first-degree later," she shook her head, "or not charge him for Murray's murder at all yet, and risk getting an even lighter sentence than what I'm hoping for."

Taylor crossed his arms. "Maybe it is worth considering the deal DDA Hobbs is suggesting. Twenty years…he'll be almost seventy by the time he's out. That's basically his life."

Provenza shot him a wry look. "Not to mention how that's basically saving you the whole trial budget."

"This isn't about budget," the Chief replied a little irritatedly. "It's about putting this man away without the need for a long, demanding trial that would take a toll on the entire division. I understand your wishes here, Lieutenant," he added, "but if Captain Raydor were making this call herself, she'd take this deal over any desires for personal satisfaction, and you know it."

Provenza scratched his neck, nodding thoughtfully to himself, and said, "Actually, Chief, if we're playing this game," he gave Taylor a pointed look, "I'm pretty confident that Raydor would want justice for those two dead young men. And a deal that just writes them off and lets Jensen get away with their deaths doesn't qualify."

A short silence fell as they all considered that; after a few moments, Hobbs let out another sigh, and checked her watch.

"It's almost six p.m.. We've got about another day to find more evidence against Jensen." She paused, let her chin fall to her chest. "I'll call Captain Raydor tonight and see how she wants to proceed…"

Taylor frowned, "I'm not sure that's the most –"

"I don't go to trial without making sure that my witnesses are willing and ready to testify," Hobbs informed him. "I need to talk to her about this and run through a few possible scenarios."

"At least wait until tomorrow morning," Provenza asked her in quiet tone, and after thinking about it for a second, the DDA nodded silently.

"Alright. Tomorrow morning. And, look… I'm not trying to write off those young men," she told the lieutenant, "but the fact is, if we don't have anything connecting Jensen to Danny Murray, filing the murder charges is only going to damage our credibility with the jury. It could end up helping Jensen, and I really don't want to do that."

"Neither do we." Tao appeared at the end of the hall, from the direction of the murder room; he looked tired, but there was a note of satisfaction in his eyes. "And I think we're not going to." He met Provenza's eyes and nodded, "We may have something."

The older lieutenant returned a brisk nod of his own, and turned to follow Mike toward the murder room.

Sharon had been a little worried about making the trip back home.

She was feeling better, yes, considerably better compared to any of the days before – but by the time her discharge papers had been processed, she'd started to feel tired again. The morning had been long enough, what with giving her statement to Lt. Provenza and DDA Hobbs, but the conversation with Rusty had really left her exhausted. In a good way – but tired was tired, and when she had to get changed and leave the hospital and she didn't feel up for even walking as far as the front door, tired wasn't good.

Somehow, she'd gotten it all done and signed everything and gotten herself to the car with a minimum of drama, only for her mind to start on a whole new set of worries, because Rusty was going to drive and Sharon hadn't been sure that she was really emotionally prepared for that.

To the boy's credit, he'd only taken one abrupt left veer into oncoming traffic (she'd gritted her teeth and tried really hard not to say anything), before noticing her expression and slowing down with a well-intentioned but way-too-abrupt brake slam. "Sorry," he'd muttered as someone behind them had honked. Then he'd very pointedly signaled to change lanes. And completely ignored checking his side-view mirror.

At least he was trying.

They'd caught the awful four p.m. rush hour traffic, so the trip that might've normally taken about twenty minutes took at least twice as long. Sharon's temples started pounding about five minutes in, but with the stopping and starting and jolting, it was impossible to rest much. She shifted uncomfortably in the seat a few times, and tried not to look too unhappy, because she didn't want to worry Rusty, either; he'd already been giving her wary, wide-eyed glances every five seconds.

It felt like the longest car ride of her life.

The Volvo still smelled faintly of smoke, and thus Sharon discovered a new, strong aversion to that smell. It caused a wave of nausea in her throat, made her heart flutter anxiously against her chest. Eventually, since holding her breath wasn't going to be a viable strategy for a forty-five minute ride, she rolled down the window a bit and ignored the noise and draft from outside.

More shifting, more aching, and more nervous looks from Rusty.

They made it home around four-thirty; Rusty had already parked the car in the garage before it occurred to him to ask if she wanted him to drop her off in front of the building, because it was less of a walk. "I can like, drive back out…" He gave her another concerned once-over, and reached a hand to put the car into reverse.

Sharon opened the door. "That's not necessary."

Except maybe it could have been. It took her twice as long to cross the garage, and going up the few steps into the lobby felt like going up Mount Everest. She was grateful for the moment of reprieve while they waited for the elevator – only then she caught the boy's look, and let out a soft sigh.

"Rusty, I'm fine," she assured him. "Just a little tired. It'll take a couple of days."

He didn't say anything, and made a half-hearted attempt to school his expression into something less funereal. Sharon sighed again.

It was a long elevator ride to the eleventh floor.

In front of their door, Sharon instinctively reached for her purse to get the keys, before realizing that her purse was, of course, not there – she'd lost it in the garage explosion. Parts of it may have still been in evidence… It was a strange feeling, but she didn't get to think about it too much because Rusty was already getting out his own key-chain, stepping up to the door.

"Uh – Lt. Provenza sent someone to change the lock yesterday," he mumbled while unlocking it.

She hummed vaguely. Good – not that there was anyone trying to hurt them anymore, but still. She felt more comfortable knowing that there wasn't a set of keys to her home somewhere out there, unaccounted for.

A silent weight lifted from her shoulders the second she stepped inside, and she felt herself let out a relieved breath almost without realizing it. The condo smelled like home; it was quiet and the lights were dim and… Sharon swallowed, and breathed in again. It was so, so good to be back. Her heart beat a little slower.

Rusty had walked in behind her, and was giving her a hesitant look from the corner of his eye, looking at the floor really, more than at her. Then his head lifted a fraction and he met her eyes properly. They both stood just inside the condo, the door still open behind them. Sharon gave him a slightly absent smile.

The boy's fingers clenched into fists, and he wriggled them uncomfortably.

Her boots were still against the wall, a little crooked, the way she'd left them Thursday night. She could've sworn the faint smell of coffee was still in the air. It was almost as though she'd just left that morning. As though they were just coming back from the station. It all looked so disconcertingly normal…

The sensation was… strange. A little paralyzing.

Sharon hummed quietly. "It's good to be –"

Abruptly, Rusty turned and took a step closer, nearly walking into her; she startled a little at the unexpected movement, but one of his hands grabbed her elbow before she could stumble backwards. His other arm went around her, in an awkward sideways hug, and the boy buried his face in her shoulder and held on for a silent moment, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arm.

Sharon let out another slow breath, and lightly rested her free hand on his elbow.

It was good to be home.

Thank you all for reading! Is everyone psyched for the new episode tonight? I'm not sure whether to invest in Kleenex or a pitchfork ;).