A/N: I own nothing but the mistakes. There is no Samcedes or Gina/Ricky interaction in this chapter but we get to finally leave Nevada at the end.

31

Cedes didn't hide her disbelief. She frowned at the man sitting across from her. "If I had a dime for every time someone confessed to killing Sander Menkins …"

Hunter agreed. "He's the most popular dead guy since Lestat de Lioncourt, all versions, Tom Cruise, that other guy, and that new guy."

"What do you want to know?" Menkins asked them.

"How did you kill him?"

"Brutally."

"Does that mean you made him suffer by slowly strangling him?"

"I did, chocolate drop. But that's not how he died."

"Sheriff Porter," she corrected, she didn't know why these men fixated on her, but she really needed to change her perfume if she was attracting Cooter and Bryan Ryan Menkins. She would leave, but she was more interested in his knowledge about Sander's death.

"Much to my older brother's dismay, I put a knee on his throat suffocating him as I slid a knife into his chest, and watched with glee as all the life drained out of him."

It wasn't often that she heard a criminal use the word glee. There was something indescribable about the man. Something more intelligent than most Menkins minus Sam, Stacey, and Stevie which made him even more ruthless. The whole shot-caller thing made perfect sense now. His slightly graying blond hair was curly because he wasn't getting regular cuts, and it showed he didn't care about his appearance like a man being used for sexual favors in prison would. With his slight build you would think he would be used that way, but obviously his intellect and his quite brutality had protected him from rape.

"So you and brother didn't get along and that made you kill him?" Hunter asked.

"We took our sibling disputes very seriously."

It was no wonder, but anyone could have found out how Sander was killed. That didn't tell her a thing. "How long—?"

"About fifteen seconds." When she paused, he added, "It took almost fifteen seconds for him to die. I counted."

"How long was the blade?"

"Long enough to kill him."

"In inches?"

He released a lungful of air and examined his fingernails, as though their questions were growing tedious. But he'd called her. Not the other way around.

"I didn't measure, but if I were to use a body part as reference, I'd say about eight inches. Give or take." She didn't acknowledge which body part he was talking about.

His measurement was close enough to Quinn's findings.

"And he just lay there and laid down as you crushed his larynx and stabbed him with a knife into his chest?" Hunter asked.

"Don't be foolish. We were fighting." He speared him with his cold blue eyes. "I won as I did since I became old enough to beat his evil ass."

Cedes pretended to be bored. "So that was your blood all over Sander's T-shirt."

"You mean all over his jacket and that ugly shirt from the seventies he wore every day of his miserable life?"

Two for two. He was the first confessor to get this far. Besides Sam, of course, but she hadn't questioned him this extensively.

"Unless," he continued, "you're talking about the filthy wife-beater underneath."

"I'm sorry." He tilted his head to study her reaction to that term for clothing. "Did that offend your delicate sensibilities?"

"The only thing offending my delicate sensibilities, Mr. Menkins, is the fact that you think we came here for a British tea consisting of tea and scones, clotted cream, and jam. You haven't told us anything that we could use."

"Then check the blood on Sandy's jacket. My DNA's already in the system. I'm assuming you, being a great sheriff, have already sent in a sample because you wouldn't have a reason to hold off on that, would you?"

Cedes' cool façade slipped for a microsecond. It was all a predator like him needed. She'd just shown her hand, but he couldn't possibly know how long she'd waited before sending the evidence to the lab in Eureka along with Sam's DNA. Not without having some fantastic connections.

Hunter cast a curious glance her way before returning his attention to Menkins

She hadn't told Hunter that she'd kept Sam's DNA sample in her desk drawer far longer than she had a right to. And part of her wasn't really sure why. Other than the fact that, if it was a match, he could go to prison. If it came out that she'd withheld evidence, even for a short time, in a murder investigation, she could lose her job.

The unfortunate fact that evidence in general tended to get lost or contaminated when surfing through the channels of justice could work in her favor should it come to that, but no one could prove that she took the sample on any given day. Besides Sam himself, she could hardly see him turning her in.

Bryan leaned closer to Cedes and lowered his voice. "What do you say we get rid of Thor over there and continue this conversation in private?"

"Over my dead body," Hunter said.

He shook his head then said, "that is the wrong thing to say in this place, boy scout."

"Why are you confessing now?" she asked him.

"Why do you care?" he countered. "You'll have your man. You'll have solved the case. You'll probably get a commendation. Isn't that all you pigs care about?"

After a long reflective moment, she said, "Chief Deputy Clarington, can you leave us alone for a minute?"

He tried to hide his astonishment when he looked at her but couldn't he could only shake his head and say, "No, ma'am."

She gave him her full attention and told him, "Deputy, that's an order."

He stared at her for what seemed like an hour. She could practically see his mind racing with all the scenarios of how this could end badly. But she didn't like showing her vulnerabilities. It would be hard enough asking what she wanted to ask Bryan without having Hunter in the room. Besides, according to all her criminal science classes, men were much more apt to open up to a woman.

"They frisked him, and you all will be right outside the door. I'll be fine alone with him."

The man they were discussing sat back in his chair, clearly amused when Hunter unfolded his large body, tossed him a quick killer glare, and headed toward the door. With a single knock, it opened and her deputy was shown outside.

As soon as the door closed again, she said, "I don't believe a word you have said since I came here today."

"Then you need to get over it, because it doesn't matter. You'll have your killer. Case closed."

"It does matter."

"No, it does not, chocolate drop," he said, leaning forward again. "The investigation will be closed and all of those people breathing down your neck can go to hell and back."

There was so much she wanted to know, but to trust a convicted felon who was obviously a psychopath would either make her crazy or gullible.

A tiny part of her wanted him to be the killer because there was no denying the most damning piece of evidence of all. The ID bracelet Sander had clutched in his hands, even after years of animal mauling and decomposition. The ID bracelet with Sam's name on it.

She decided to play along with the man for now. Curiosity won out every time. "Did you help him take me?"

A look that was part concern and part sympathy, almost convinced her he cared. "No, Mercedes. I found out much later. After he'd taken you."

"Is that when you joined his cause to get my father's life savings?" When he only deadpanned her, she added, "It was a lot of money. Who could blame you?"

"And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"Walk me through the murder. You found out Sander abducted me and then what? You came to my rescue out of the kindness of your heart?"

He kept his eyes on her face. In fact, after an initial sizing up, he hadn't ogled her or objectified her in any way. Hell, even the guards had done that when she and Hunt had walked in. Did that imply a level of respect? Or was he simply that cunning?

"There isn't much kindness left in my heart, sweetheart. But at the time? Sure. Why not."

"How did you find out where he was keeping me?"

"It wasn't difficult. Sandy was a creature of habit."

"He'd taken other women there?"

"You weren't a woman," Bryan said, suddenly serious. "You were a kid."

"I was seventeen."

"Exactly. Either way, no. Sandy was not in the habit of abducting women or even sleeping with them."

"Okay. You figured out he was keeping me there and then what?"

"And then nothing. I rescued you. Years later he was being his perverted self again with children and I had enough. He did the same thing he did to me as a child with Stevie, and I regressed back to being that abused kid and I had enough. I beat the shit out of him and dragged his body to a place that he loved to take his victims and then killed him."

She nodded, deep in thought. "Say, I believe you. Back when I was abducted, who took me to the hospital?"

"Yours, truly."

Her chest tightened so hard, so fast, it felt like it was going to explode. Bryan Ryan Menkins was certainly the right height. The person in the hospital surveillance video seemed younger, but even now, in his early fifties, the man was lithe and agile and had a youthful appeal even with slightly graying hair.

"What did you give me while we were in the truck?"

"Besides a ride to the hospital in Eureka?"

He didn't know. Then again, it was a long time ago, and he was bleeding profusely. How could anyone remember every minute detail? Maybe he really did forget.

She studied him and decided that was not likely. Hunter was right. He was playing her. Though he did seem fairly certain the lab results would prove his DNA was on Sander's clothes which could be explained because who knows if there was a person alive that Sander Menkins hadn't pissed off. Even Cooter was not sad that his brother was dead. None of the Menkins family members reported his disappearance or have mourned for him since finding out he had been dead for over a decade.

Something was really off about this whole cold case. Why were there so many confessions for Sander Menkins murder? He was the scum of the earth. And even though the man in front of her had the right build, she couldn't help but doubt his claims. Especially when taking Sam's ID bracelet into account.

Cedes had always had a sixth sense about people, and Bryan Ryan Menkins just didn't fit. Putting him at the scene that night covered in blood and injured, giving her water, taking her to the hospital. Not that he wouldn't have done all of that. After meeting him, she had little doubt there was a part of him that was gallant and good. She just didn't instinctively think he did do it. The evidence and what little memory she had didn't fit without some pretty serious manipulation.

Just when she was about to force him to admit he way lying, he confessed, "Unless you mean the water I poured down your throat."

She stopped breathing.

"Do you remember that? Right before you threw up all over me? And my truck, I might add." He eased forward, and whispered, "Ungrateful little piece of chocolate."

Was she losing her mind? Nobody could have known that except the person who took her to the hospital. She'd only started getting flashes of memories of that night in the last few months and she hadn't told anyone about the pickup or the water or the vomit. Mostly because she didn't know if it was real or simply a product of her imagination.

Unable to sit still any longer, she stood up and walked to the window where Hunter was watching her through. He was so angry, but she needed to see his face regardless. He stood out there like a secret service agent. Always there to protect her.

"Why are you doing this now?"

"Because I want you to do something for me."

"Should have known all this wasn't out of the goodness of your heart."

"If you want a signed confession of me confessing that I murdered my brother Sander in self defense, I have three things that you have to do for me first."

"I don't need your confession. And what makes you think that I would do anything for you?"

"What after all I just told you, are you sure you don't want to stay on my good side?"

"All I know is that you are a liar and I don't believe anything you have said. You are not rescuer of damsels in distress."

"You really don't know me."

"And I don't want to. Because even if you are telling me the truth, why wait until now to say anything? Why not confess when I was abducted or when you supposedly murdered your own brother ten years ago?"

"I would have been arrested then because nobody would believe that a Menkins could do something good. And ten years ago, you were not the weren't the sheriff."

"Why not contact me four months ago, then? When I was first elected as sheriff."

"I only recently heard you found his body."

"Your own brother's remains were found on a mountain four months ago and nobody in your family bothered to tell you?"

"My family has all but forgotten me."

"Let's say your blood is really on Sander's clothes, I won't need your confession."

"Ah, but there's so much more you want to know, chocolate drop. There is a lot you don't remember about the time leading up to your abduction or about the days you spent in that shed. About that night I rescued you. You're right earlier about one thing. Sandy didn't come up with that plan alone nor would he be able to execute it without help. He liked to think he was a super villain with an alter ego named the Pink Dagger, but he only preyed on those who were weaker than him."

She felt her body's reaction to his words which gave him the upper hand. When interviewing someone, she knew not to betray weakness or interest, but with her own case, she seemed incapable of doing anything but making mistake after mistake.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know but were afraid to ask," he said, fully aware of the fact that he was in a power position.

"If you know everything then that means you lied earlier."

"I lie all the time. You have to be more specific."

"If you know everything, that means that you and Sander were definitely in it together. I bet you fought over how you were going to divide the millions of dollars. Maybe at first it was fifty fifty a million a piece, but then one of you wanted more and that's when the plan all fell apart."

"None of that is true. I know everything because after my brother smoked his blunts, he liked to brag. As did his partner in abducting you."

"Whose name is … ?"

"Noooo, chocolate drop, only when you have met my conditions, we can talk about what I know and what you really want to find out."

"I'm the sheriff of one of the smallest counties in California. I have exactly zero pull in Nevada, but feel free to give me your three conditions."

"Don't worry. Somebody like you who is inspired to solve her own case will be able to easily do what I want."

"I am so inspired right now," she said sarcastically. "What exactly is it that you think I am willing to do for you?"

"I am serving a life sentence here, and I don't have a whole lot to look forward to and as I get older, I realize that I want to be closer to my family, so they can come visit me more than once a decade. I want to be transferred to the prison in Eureka."

The look of incredulity she gave him said everything he needed to know about her ability to pull that off.

"It's called a transport order if you have never heard of such a thing before."

"I know exactly what it's called. But getting a prisoner transferred across state lines is kind of a big deal. I don't think it can happen."

"Why can it not? I have important information about an ongoing murder investigation, and I am willing to testify about things that happened in an unsolved abduction from fifteen years ago. I can even lead the authorities to the weapon I used to defend myself, which will have my fingerprints on it from ten years ago."

"You really have the knife?" she asked in surprise.

"I know exactly where it is. In return, I'm transferred to the state where the case occurred and will be available to testify once I name my brother's accomplice who is still walking around free. It can be easily done with our state's district attorney."

"You have taken these four months since I was elected as sheriff to come up with this plan I am sure. I am also sure you are the reason Sander's body just appeared while we were looking for your nephew," she said, walking back to the table.

"I am not confirming or denying anything."

"What are your other requests besides relocation?"

"I want you to look into the case which caused me to be imprisoned here."

"Oh, right. I forgot, you're innocent of all crimes. You are Sir Gallant, a rescuer of damsels and an upstanding citizen."

"Hell, naw," he said, laughing so hard. "Believe me there's not a single innocent person in this hell hole. But I am innocent of the crime they convicted me of, and I've heard you are the only person to figure that out and prove it for me."

Wow, was he ever wrong about her. Then again, she'd been very wrong about him. "Who do I have to thank for spreading lies about me?"

He laid back in his chair, the metal handcuffs clanging with each movement, and he refused to answer once again. When he finally spoke, she knew he had lost his mind. "My lawyer is sending over everything we have and the case files."

"Great, and is there a magic wand and fairy dust in there, too? I'm going to need all the help I can get."

"I think those things are only accessible in Lima Springs."

"Of course, and what is the last thing you want from me?"

He waited and sized her up just long enough to make her hands sweat. She suddenly wanted him to be telling the truth. His claims would exonerate Sam and finally lay her demons to rest.

After another moment, he sat up in the chair, and said, "I need to see the girl."

"Look, I know it's been a while for you—"

"Not as long as you might think."

Okay. She didn't need to know anything about that. "—but smuggling women in and out of prisons for booty calls is not one of my talents. And, believe me, I have many."

"Oh believe me, I have been told about all of your talents."

The more he talked about her as if he knew her, the more she wondered who was out there talking about her to a convicted murderer. Because she wanted to talk to them. "What girl are you talking about?"

"Your girl, Regina."

Surely, she misheard him. "Excuse me?"

"When I get back to Cali, I want you to bring your daughter, Regina, to see me."

Emotions Cedes didn't know she even possessed rushed through her like lightning. Sharp and hot and deadly, they blinded her for a few seconds. Why would a convicted killer want to see her daughter? How did he even know she had a daughter? Sam or Stacey could've told him if they were still in contact, but why would they? Why would they talk about her?

All restraint left her. She became someone else. Someone willing to risk her career. Someone willing to kill someone without regret.

She leaned forward. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

"I get to see Regina or there's no deal."

She'd been on the force for almost ten years and this man reduced her to an unstable nuclear warhead in a matter of seconds.

"Chocolate drop," he began, but reconsidered when saw her glare was murderous. "Sheriff, it's not what you think."

Something hit the door. Or, more precisely, someone. It opened and Hunter was by her side at once, trying to ease her away from Menkins. She held the pen in her fist like she was going to use it to shank the man across from her after gouging his eyes out.

"Get back, Menkins," Hunter said, coaxing Cedes to do the same.

"I understand," he said, ignoring Hunter. "You need to sleep on it."

"The only thing I need to sleep on is how to make sure you never make it out of prison alive to see or touch my daughter."

"I didn't hear that," Hunter said to Menkins. He looked at a guard that had hurried in, quickly followed by a second. "You didn't hear that."

"He was right about you. You're absolutely phenomenal." Before she could comment, he added, "I'm willing to take you on your word. You meet the first two conditions, I'll sign a confession and tell you everything on the contingency that I'll get to see Regina at some point in the next year."

She felt an angry tear slide past her lashes as question upon question ran rampant through her brain. "What makes you think I would ever agree to such a thing?"

Menkins shrugged. "I just thought maybe she'd like to find out who her father really is."

The words not only took her breath away, but she felt as if she had received a blow to her heart.

A guard got between them and told them, "You two need to back down or this interview is over."

Hunter easily moved Cedes, and Menkins sat back down. Satisfied, the guard went back to the door, but he didn't leave the room.

Cedes forced herself to calm. Relax, relate, release, breathe in and out. Everything is going to be fine. "I'll bring her to see you."

"What?" The question was from Hunter who stared at her, as if she lost her mind.

"I'll bring her to see you as soon as you tell me why you want to see her."

Hunter sat beside her, but he wasn't happy about the direction the conversation had taken while he was outside the room.

A sadness seemed to come over him when he admitted, "I've been told she looks like her grandmother."

Cedes knew he was not talking about her mother. "You don't get to play with my daughter's life. To use her like your family used me fifteen years ago as a pawn. If you even try, I promise you I will make it my life's mission to see that you rot in this hell hole no matter who you have bought off."

It was his turn to let his emotions overtake him. He stood and turned his back on her.

The two guards tensed. One of them put a hand on his arm as though to subdue him if need be, but Menkins remained calm.

"Can I speak to you alone?" he asked. When he turned back to her, his expression had changed. A vulnerability shone through. A vulnerability Cedes didn't believe existed in a man like him. He was a good actor, she'd give him that.

Still, her curiosity about his desire to see her daughter burned too hot and too bright for her to ignore. "Hunter?" she asked.

He hesitated but decided not to push it, and the two guards followed him out, only they didn't close the door this time but gave them some privacy by walking a few feet away. Hunter crossed his arms over his chest and stood closer, refusing to give the man too much space.

"Ask yourself this, Mercedes. Why would I want my conviction overturned if I'm about to confess to killing my own brother? I'm going to rot in prison either way."

"You probably wouldn't get any time for defending yourself, and the time you would have to serve for not coming forward to the authorities at the time, I am sure the DA wouldn't even pursue it, or they would give you credit for time already served."

"I didn't even think of that."

She didn't believe him. He was far too savvy not to have thought of that angle with his lawyer.

"The people I was falsely convicted of killing were friends of mine, and I've spent almost all these years in prison while the person who really killed them has walked around free. They deserve better, "

She almost believed him, but he was too slick, too slimy to believe a word from his lying mouth. "Do you know who did murder them?"

"Of course, I do."

"Did you tell your lawyer?"

"No, because I didn't know at the time. I know now."

"Why not just have him taken care of ?"

"That would be too easy. I want him inside here. I want him to be in fear for his life every single day for as long as he breathes."

"Like you are now?"

"Not hardly, you and I both know that I run this place and have no fear of anyone, but that's not the point. Most people don't thrive here like I have."

"Are you Gina's father?" The question was voiced before she could stop it. She didn't really know what to believe at this point.

He cast her a side eye. If her question surprised him, he didn't reveal it. "No, I'm not a rapist," he said softly.

Not that he would admit it, if he were. "Tell me who her father is and you have my word that I will do everything in my power to get your conviction overturned."

"'I am afraid I can't do that, chocolate drop. I have to have something to bargain with cause I am not sure you will follow through with your side."

"You mean you have to have something to hold over my head."

"To-may-to, to-mah-to."

"Even if I were able to do everything you have asked of me, it would take years to get your conviction overturned."

"I am not worried about that because I have complete faith in you."

The clanging of his metal handcuffs was not unlike the sound of the metal chains she wore for five days when she was seventeen. Yet, her chains were heavier and the sound louder because they had echoed on the walls of the dark shed. But somehow the sound was still similar and a reminder of her forgotten past.

"Whose knife was it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The knife you killed Sander with. Whose was it?"

"Mine."

"Is that how you cut my ropes?" She was going to catch him in the lie.

"I don't remember. But I'll tell you the minute I'm transferred. Even more incentive to get me moved."

He must not have known about the ID bracelet. She did wonder how he would explain Sander's clutching a bracelet with Sam's name on it, but that little piece of evidence was not common knowledge, and she didn't want to tip him off.

She could only think of one more test. One more piece of evidence that could prove he was indeed her rescuer. She stood, walked around the table, and leaned against it in front of him.

He moved away from her warily. "It's been a long time since I've had a body like yours this close to me, chocolate drop."

"I need to look at your hands."

He nodded his head and agreed to let her touch him.

She examined the palm and because his hands were in handcuffs, she could only lift it so far, but she could see his wrist.

She didn't remember much about that night, but she did remember the blood oozing out of a deep wound on her rescuer's wrist as he tilted the bottle of water to her mouth. The blood flow was thick and pulsing and his hand shook as though a vein had been nicked during the struggle.

"You think these guards here can keep you safe?"

Ignoring the empty threat, she ran her fingers over the inside of first his right wrist, then his left. Nothing. Only a small scar higher up on the inside of his forearm.

Either she remembered wrong or this man was indeed lying. But if he were, how did he know so much about her abduction? About that night? About her rescue?

She needed to stop with all the questions and just check the DNA. That would give her a definitive answer and a lot more to work with. Still, the Menkins brothers were not exactly selfless. Why would he confess to a crime he didn't commit and in the next breath want to be exonerated from another crime he swore he didn't do?

There was no way in hell she would take Gina to prison to meet with a convicted felon, but that was a bridge she could cross when she got to it.

"I'll be in touch later," she said and left.