Cracking Buffy Summers-Angelus was not a chore she looked forward to.
She sat across from the young woman and clasped her hands in front of her on the table. Buffy’s bruises were still dark and angry against her skin, marring the blonde, tan California girl image Kate was sure she would’ve projected otherwise. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Buffy shook her head. “No. I just…I just want to tell you what I did so William can go home.”
If nothing else, these kids were devoted to each other – Kate had to give them that. She’d seen more couples turn on each other than not in situations like this. Very rarely was one person so willing to fall on their sword to save their lover, never mind both.
Kate spoke gently, constantly reminding herself to go easy with this one. Gunn had called right before she’d gone in to speak with Buffy and told her he’d gotten nothing from the son. She’d put in a request for phone records, but there was no guarantees those would turn up anything either. The woman seated across from her may very well be the only lead they had towards actually cracking the case. “Buffy,” she began. “Can I call you Buffy?”
A nod. “Yeah.”
“Buffy, I want you to start from the beginning. Tell me everything about that night.”
Buffy looked down at her hands, not able to look at Kate as she let out what she’d been holding in. “Will was in Mexico that day. We…we were planning to run away. I… Liam was beating me. More and more. I just wanted out.”
She had to stop for a moment, a lump forming in her throat and tears spilling over onto her cheeks. Kate slid a box of tissues across the table and Buffy took one with a mumbled, “Thank you.”
“Do you need to take a break?” Kate asked, forcing her voice to stay even, reminding herself again this one had to be handled delicately.
“No.” Buffy shook her head. “No. I want to tell you what happened. I don’t want Will to have to take the blame for what I did any longer.”
“Then what happened between you and your husband that night?”
“He came home late. I was already in bed, but he called me into his study. He’d…he’d found out about Will and me. He had pictures…I guess he’d had someone watching us. We...he attacked me. He tried…” Buffy had to stop for a moment, wringing the tissue in her hand. “He tried to choke me and he tried to rape me. I got free, and that’s when I got the gun. I didn’t…I didn’t really mean to hit him. I just wanted to scare him, make him get away from me.”
“Where did you shoot him?”
Buffy looked up. “What?”
“Where did the bullets hit him?”
“I…I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “I didn’t look.”
Kate nodded tersely. “And when did all this take place?”
Buffy scrunched her face up, trying to think. “Um…around ten? I looked at the clock when he came in, and I’m fairly certain it was ten.”
“And you’re sure he was dead when you left?”
“Well, I didn’t check,” Buffy admitted. “But he went down, and he didn’t get back up. And then they found him shot, so…”
“Buffy, was anyone else in the house besides you and your husband?”
Buffy pulled back, blinked. “I know Will said he did it, but he really wasn’t there. He wasn’t even in the country. Don’t they have like, cameras at the border or something? Something you can see that he couldn’t possibly be there?”
“Not him. Someone else.”
“Why?” Buffy asked, wary of the question.
“It’s just something I need to ask.”
“Not that I know of. It’s a big house, but I didn’t hear anyone else in there, and the staff should’ve already gone home for the day.”
“Did you notice anything unusual at all? Did your husband mention planning to meet anyone?”
“What? No. He was attacking me.”
Kate nodded again. “Is there anything else you can tell us about that night?”
“No, not really. I went to Will’s afterwards, told him what happened. The next morning I woke up, and both Will and the gun were gone.”
Kate shut off the tape recorder beside her. “Thank you, Buffy.”
Buffy said nothing, looking down at the shredded tissue in her hand. She felt relieved to have shared the burden of her guilt, yet at the same time, Kate’s questions left her puzzled. She couldn’t help but fear that somehow this would end up still on William’s shoulders.
A guard placed her hand on Buffy’s shoulder, indicating it was time for her to go back to her jail cell. She went without argument, though she couldn’t stop the questions swirling in her mind.
The last person Spike felt like dealing with was Lindsey McDonald, so when he was informed his lawyer was there to see him again, he was less than thrilled. Honestly, he’d rather just stay in his cell.
Yet there he was, looking through a glass at Lindsey’s forever-smug face. “What do you want?”
“Look, I’m just going to cut to the chase with you,” Lindsey said, correctly assessing Spike wouldn’t take to anything else. “Liam’s wife confessed, which I can get you out with. However, they’re talking about holding you on hindering charges, so I’m going to try to work out a deal for you. Will you be willing to testify on the stand that she confessed to you that night?”
Spike’s eyes narrowed but remained trained on the lawyer. “No.”
“Come on, William. Don’t tell me you’re actually stupid enough to do something like this for your little girlfriend.”
“I’m…” Spike stopped short, his head cocked to the side. “How did you know Buffy’s my girlfriend?”
For a moment, the smug grin fell, but just as quickly, it was back. “Why else would a guy put everything on the line for a girl if she wasn’t giving him some? Or at least teasing him with the possibility.”
“Shut your gob, McDonald. You don’t know a bloody thing about me an’ Buffy. And no, I’m not making any sodding deals. Hell, I’m not even going to retract my confession.”
Lindsey’s mouth fell. “You’ve got to be kidding me. William. Come on, they’ve got this girl anyway. All you’d be doing is corroborating evidence they already have.”
“No. I’m not giving another answer, so you might as well stop asking.”
“You’re being an idiot.”
“Maybe. We’re done here.”
“For now,” Lindsey conceded. “Call me when you wake up and realize she’s using you.”
“Get out of here before I’m forced to actually hire a lawyer just to keep you away.”
Lindsey stood up without another word and walked away.
If nothing else, Spike could find a little satisfaction in that.
Dr. Fred Burkle went over her latest set of test results once again. She knew they weren’t going to tell her anything new, especially since they hadn’t told her anything surprising to begin with, but she liked to be thorough.
The blood type of the samples she’d found on the desk matched that of Liam Angelus. The hair had been deemed “microscopically similar” as well. Because of that, they’d opted to forgo the more expensive and time-consuming DNA testing.
At some point before his death, Liam Angelus had hit his head on the corner of his desk – hard enough to draw blood and remove hair. That much she knew for certain.
What she didn’t know was what it meant to the larger picture.
Or even if it meant anything at all.
She looked up when the door to the lab opened, unable to keep herself from smiling when she saw the handsome young Assistant District Attorney walk in.
Especially with the way he was grinning ear to ear. She didn’t know what had him so smiley, but it was infectious.
He waved a small packet of papers in the air as he approached her. “I was right.”
“About what?” she asked.
“You.” Somehow, his smile managed to grow. “You, doc, are an absolute genius.”
Fred blushed a deep crimson and looked down, her long brown hair falling over her face. “I don’t know about that. I don’t even know what I did.”
Gunn slapped the papers down on the table in front of Fred. “Phone records. And look at that highlighted call. It’s from the line Liam Angelus had in the study.”
Fred situated her glasses on her nose as she picked up the piece of paper on the top of the stack. “Eleven oh-one p.m.,” she read off, her expression blank for a moment until the significance of the time clicked in and she grew excited. “Didn’t the wife say she killed him at ten?”
“Yep. Which means either Liam made a phone call after he’d been dead for an hour…”
“Or she didn’t kill him!”
“Not at the time she said she did anyway.”
Fred nodded. “Gives a lot of credence to our ‘something’s rotten in Denmark’ theory. Or at least rotten at the Angelus mansion.”
“Baby, I think a lot of things were rotten there.”
Fred looked up sharply. “Did you just call me baby?”
Gunn grew wide eyed as she called him on his slip. “I didn’t mean…it just came out. Dammit, I should know better than that. You know, being a lawyer and all.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean nothin’ like that! I wasn’t offended. I…” She stopped short when she realized what she was about to say and cleared her throat. “So what are you going to do? Do you know who he called?”
“We’re working on that,” Gunn replied. “Turns out the number was made to one of Angelus’s own company’s cell phones, which means it was most likely to an employee, or at least some sort of close business associate.”
“Is there anyway to find out who that was?”
Gunn nodded. “Apparently, they keep records of who the phones are signed out to, but we’re going to have to go through the whole warrant process all over again to get those. It’ll take several hours, if not a day or two, depending on how much Lady Justice likes me today.”
“Oh.” Fred leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “I hate suspense.”
Gunn chuckled, finding himself completely enamored by her. She was so unlike any other woman he’d ever known… “Yeah, me, too. Guess we better find something to do to fill the time.”
Their eyes met. Fred smiled slowly.
“I know it’s kind of the wrong time of day, but I know this 24 hour diner that makes great waffles,” Gunn said, taking a step closer to her.
“Yeah? You know, I’ve always thought breakfast tastes better at suppertime anyway.”
His only response was to smile at her again.
Spike wondered how many people wished they were staying in their cells as they were being led out.
Apparently Lindsey’s worries of a hindering charge were unfounded as Spike was released on all charges the following morning. They handed him back his clothes and sent him on his way, as if the past few days hadn’t happened at all. It was all unsettling.
And only meant he’d truly lost his chance to save Buffy.
Tara was there to meet him, and he slid into her car without a word, his head hanging down.
“She didn’t want you to take the fall for her, William,” Tara said softly, not needing him to speak to know what was on her mind. “She loves you too much for that.”
“I don’t care,” Spike replied softly. “I could handle it in there, Tara. She can’t.”
“She couldn’t handle you being in there, William. Not for something she did. You…you didn’t see her. She was a mess.”
“I…” Spike swallowed hard, forcing himself not to cry. “Just take me home, all right?”
Without another word, Tara drove away from the jail.
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