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A MURDER IN SUNNYDALE


Chapter 31: ‘More Questions Then Answers?’


A/N: Thank you to everyone reading this. Thank you for the wonderful reviews. I feel like readers have gotten into the ‘fun’ of the mystery game, and I’m very happy about that.

Hint: In the last chapter, Buffy realized ‘something’ from what Holden had written. However, it has caused more questions then answered anything. In this Chapter 31, Buffy and Spike will find out about some ‘untrustworthy’ acquaintances. Some of their questions may be answered, but they have a lot to read, believe me.

Thanks, luv, Spuf


Spike watched Buffy intently. Took in her stunned, wide green eyes, her skin tone that had suddenly become deathly pale.

“What is it love? Holden’s less then civilized description of his feelings for you? My cousin was not a man known for, uhm, well ‘tact’ I guess you’d say.” Spike was trying to keep his voice even, but he truly was pissed at Holden, jealous, really, that his cousin had those feelings for his own wife. Even if poor Hold never stood a chance in hell, not with Spike’s Buffy.

Buffy shook her golden head, silently, and sat back down on the little vanity chair. She began to stare into the main mirror of the vanity and realized just how ‘shocked’ she looked.

“It’s not Holden’s crude words, Will,” Buffy finally whispered, her voice strained and cracked. She felt like she might throw up from the uneasy, sinking feeling in her tummy that had began the minute she heard William read that ‘particular’ paragraph.

Normally, Buffy would have been into a full blown tirade, rambling on about what a ‘dickhead’ Holden was. Especially to have written such crap about her! However, at the moment, she was more ‘concerned’ with the other reasons that her own name was on this list of his.

“What is it, Princess?” Spike stood behind his wife and placed his hands, gently on her slim shoulders. He gazed into the mirror, hoping she would look at him, and herself, in the reflection there.

“Oh God, Will,” Buffy began to shake, visibly, “it’s, it’s what Holden wrote, about the guy that shot me, the gang banger.”

“You’re scaring me, baby,” Spike murmrered tenderly, gently running his hands up and down Buffy’s neck, shoulders and arms.
“I know it’s a shock, that my prick of a cousin hired that kid to take out Ford, but…..”

Buffy began to shake her head, violently, tiny tears fell from her green eyes. She felt like she just might pass out at any moment.

“No,” she rasped, her body suddenly still, frozen still in disbelief. “Not that Holden hired the punk, though it’s bad enough. It’s the other part, the part where he explains that ‘I’ was supposed to be behind a desk, a desk job, he said. Not out on the street, with Ford, but….” Her voice trailed off weakly and she glanced up at William, her eyes held pain, shock and a look of betrayal.”

“Buffy,” Spike haunched down beside his wife and wrapped his left arm about her, tenderly. “Please, what is it?” he asked, his expression was beginning to match Buffy’s own frightened one.

“Only two people, Will,” Buffy whispered, her voice shakey, “Only two people tried to talk me out of going on that call with Ford. Just two, Will. How the hell could Holden ‘know’ about that, unless one of those two people told him. I mean that I was supposed to be behind a desk?”

Spike gazed at Buffy, now, instead of her reflection in the mirror. She was still as pale as the undead, but now her brows were scrunched together in thought, and her eyes were narrowed into fiery, opal colored slits.

“Who?” Spike asked simply, keeping his tone neutral. He didn’t want to frighten Buffy even more then she was.

“Rupert Giles, and,” Buffy swallowed hard, took a deep breath and added, “my ex-husband, Riley Finn.”

“Oh Jesus,” Spike hissed, now in shock himself. ‘We know what that means, don’t we?” he asked himself. ‘One of the two good old boys, or both, were in my cousin’s pocket.’ He wrapped both of his arms about Buffy and pulled her to him, tightly.

She was weeping softly, something his wife had perfected into an art. Buffy could be miserable, broken-hearted, or, just plain pissed, and she could cry, silently that is. Spike had figured this out about his love, even only after a few weeks of knowing and loving her. For, love her, he did and always would.

Buffy buried her head into her husband’s strong chest and wept, silently. She only hoped that not only was she wrong about her assumptions, but that she was ‘really’ wrong about them. Dead wrong.

Suddenly, Buffy reached out and attempted to pluck the second document from the shelf, but William stopped her. With a raised brow, Buffy silently asked her husband why?

“I think we better get the hell out of here, now, baby. Spike explained, reading her thoughts. I’m interested in reading everything on those papers myself, but I think we’d better get home first. We’ve been here longer then a few minutes and that smarmy little whelp of a door man is probably on his way up here by now. Won’t do any good to have him catch us reading paperwork with shocked expressions on our faces.”

Buffy swallowed hard, again and nodded. “You’re right,” she answered simply, allowing Will to help her stand up. “I’ve still got two more days of ‘official vacation’ from the precinct. We can go home read everything there.”

Spike grabbed all three of the documents, checked all of the vanity drawers and such, then locked the damn thing back up, securely. He handed the papers to Buffy, who stuck them in her purse, then wiped her eyes with some tissue.

To change the subject, at least temporarily, Spike asked Buffy if she was hungry.

“Starved,” she sighed, somewhat sarcastically, “but if I try to eat anything, now, I’ll just barf. I’m really frightened, Will,” her green eyes pleaded with his. “I am totally scared shitless as to who or what is listed on those other papers.”

“I’m with you, baby,” Spike kissed Buffy on her plush lips, tenderly. “I’m here, not going anywhere, but home with you.”

Once they arrived home, Buffy immediately flopped down on the couch and looked up at William, expectantly. Her eyes were filled with trepidation, but they were demanding also.

“Shall we?” she asked her husband, almost whispering and eyeing her own purse. It held the destructive, terrifying papers, the last ‘real’ will and testament, kind of, of one Holden Webster.

Spike frowned, momentarily, ‘still destroying lives, aren’t you Holden?’ he was asking his dead cousin’s spirit, but answering himself at the same time. ‘Still holding the last card of the deal, like always.’

By now, not only was Spike quite hungry, for food that is, he was really pissed at his murdered relative. ‘If this breaks my Buffy,’ he hissed silently, ‘I’ll….’ Just what the fuck would he do?

“Let’s eat something, baby,” Spike offered gently, “at least a sandwich, something. You need to eat, and frankly, so do I.”

“I was thinking of drinking my lunch, Will,” Buffy responded, with a bitter little laugh. “Maybe ‘Cosmo’ ala carte?”

Without another word, Spike headed into the kitchen and began to take out stuff for sandwiches. He tried to ignore, unsuccessfully, his wife’s sudden presence in the room.

“So, that’s how it is,” she murmered as she joined him at the counter, wrapping her long, soft arms about his waist. “I’m eating whether I want to or not?”

“Yup,” Spike grinned, not looking at her. He slapped some turkey on white bread and placed them on the fanciest small plates he could find. “We both are,” he confirmed, firmly. “Then we’re going to open the best bottle of wine we have. And, I know there’s gotta’ be a great bottle around here, right?”

Buffy nodded, “right,” she answered softly. She headed to the wine rack in the corner of the dining area and pulled out the best Cab in the place.

Spike brought the sandwiches and two wine glasses to the coffee table and set them down. “Sit,” he ordered his wife, sternly, “eat, drink and be merry. Might be the last chance you get before the walls come crashing in on us.”

He grinned at her again, but the truth was, he was sick himself. It was apparent that two of the most important men in Buffy’s life, past or present, well, at least perhaps one of them? They had betrayed her, totally.

Both Buffy and Spike practically wolfed down their sandwiches, then finished off their first glasses of wine together. Spike poured them each another glass and placed the goblets on the coasters that protected the coffee table.

“Well?” Buffy finally murmered, again eyeing the terrifying little purse that sat at the end of the couch. “Shall we?” She asked Will, her eyes wide with fearful anticipation.

“We shall,” Spike answered, his strong voice was firm.

After opening up the purse and pulling out the three documents, Buffy handed them all to her husband. “You read them, please, honey,” she whispered. “I just can’t.”

Spike nodded and opened the second document, also appropriately marked #2 on the outside. He gave his wife a dubious glance, then unrolled the paper.

(Again, Holden’s written words will be in apostrophes. Our Spuffy couples’ words and thoughts will be separate).


‘Spike:

I gather, since you’re reading this, that you’ve read the first document and are now ready to read this one, then the next. I wonder, is our nerd of a cousin, Wesley, with you? If not, then that’s cool. Just make sure he gets these documents when you’re finished reading them. He’ll know what to do, I trust him the most, next to you that is.

Do you remember and old saying, Cousin, the one that states:

“Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts, absolutely”

It’s true, you know. I finally realized this, first hand. I can’t remember who quoted this wise old bullshit first. I’m betting Shakespeare, but maybe not. You and old Wes, you two were always the smart ones, book wise that is.

I was the smart one, power wise, and money wise. Maybe not so smart in the ‘human-like’ way though. Look who died first, huh?
Look who never found the peace he might have?

Anyway, I am going to list some ‘facts’ here, or more importantly, some ‘names’ of the fair citizens of Sunnydale. Or, not so fair ones. Maybe even some distant ‘corrupt’ citizens, some that are past corrupt and headed right into damned.


For ‘expediency’ purposes, I will list some of Sunnydale’s finest, first. The fine, oh so ‘elite’ of the local Police Department who have served me, their Master, for so long. (And, some for not so long, but they served me, believe it).


The following names may or may not surprise you (seeing as how you are not from around these parts, but, again, just keep up with me and connect the ‘dots’ that lead to the whole, surprising complete picture). Believe me, it is interesting, to say the least.’

Spike looked at Buffy, rolled his eyes and sighed, “never knew Hold to be so fucking dramatic as this.” He scanned the next few paragraphs and grimmaced.

“You have no idea what your beloved Cousin was ‘capable’ of, baby,” Buffy mumbled, taking another drink of her wine. “Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Holden’s ghost pops in here and starts reciting from Anne Rice’s ‘Interview With A Vampire’ or some such shit.”

“Hmmm,” Spike grunted. “You better prepare yourself, Princess,” he warned, anxiously, “if Holden is being honest, this is going to be a real bumpy ride for you.”

Buffy squeezed Will’s hand in hers, “I can handle it, honest. With you here? I believe I could take on Caligula, Dracula and Hitler, all in one round.” She was rewarded with an adoring smile from Will, just before he began to read the next paragraphs.

‘I am going to list a few names here, simpletons, actually, but fairly important. I will also list a couple of interesting facts on each of them. What you and Wesley decide to do with this information is up to you two.

But remember this: My son, Harley Holden Webster and his Mother, Amy St. Claire, must be protected at all costs. Seek out Buffy Summers, convince her that you are a stand up guy, like you are. She will help you, I swear.


Now, onto the naming of names in the Sunnydale Police Force:

1) Scott Hope:

This fuck is a real piece of work. He was on my payroll before he ever even ‘thought’ about becoming a cop. Hope is a real idiot, but he served his purpose, more then once…..


“Oh God,” Buffy gasped, “not Scott!” She stood up and began to pace around in front of William. “He’s not a friend of mine, not at all, but Will,” she whined at her husband, “he’s the one that went and dragged Amy back from Arizona. He was Ford’s partner, when I was out on my leave, after the baby,” she finished sadly.


‘I needed Scott Hope, from the start, for a lot of reasons. Number one reason:

Scott was instrumental in my gettng Amy back in the fold, back under my control. If this had not have happened, Harley would not have been born.

Thomas Ford was a thorn in my side, the fly in my soup, the gristle in my meat. He was in the way, of Amy and me, that is. Scott made it possible for me to get Amy back under my wing, under my protection and okay, frankly, back in my bed. But, that is another story.’

“Scott,” Buffy gasped again, “he was the one, with Tom Ford on the night he died. He, Scott, he said he was too drunk to drive, so he passed out in his truck. Let poor Tom drive his Mustang, right into that God damned reinforcement wall.”

“Buffy,” Spike reached out and pulled his wife back onto his lap. “I don’t know what this Scott Hope did or didn’t do, but if Holden wrote this? There’s a reason, I assure you.” He gazed at Buffy, the sympathy was evident in his blue eyes.

“Oh God, Will,” Buffy whimpered, “what if Tom didn’t have to die? What if he was ‘helped’ to die? By Scott, or someone else. It all makes sense now. For Amy to go back to Holden, at all, Tom had to be out of the picture. What better way to cover a murder then to make it look like Tom had driven drunk. Here’s the thing,” Buffy felt like she couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“The thing is,” she finally could continue, “is that Tom Ford was never much of a drinker. A beer? Two? That was his limit. He was a cop, first and foremost, never really broke the rules. Except where Amy was concerned that is. I knew that, Will,” she groaned, miserably. I knew that Tom didn’t drink himself into a stupor, never did. But I let them all convince me, it was easier after all.”

Buffy looked so sad and confused that Spike pulled her even tighter to him. She buried her head into his neck and sighed, deeply.

“So?” she began, with hesitation. “Do you think that Holden could have had Scott Hope ‘help’ Thomas Ford into that Mustang, to meet his death? And, did he put something more into Tom’s drinks? To kind of push him along?”

“God, baby, I don’t know,” Spike answered sincerely. “But,” he paused, then continued, “we can’t rule it out. Did anyone ever talk to the bartender at the bar Ford and Hope were at that night? Ask how much this partner of yours had to drink? Or, for that matter, have an autopsy done on this Ford bloke?”


“No,” Buffy shook her head, sadly, “no one even thought about doing that. Why would they? It’s a fraternity, a kind of family, remember? The Police Force that is. We stick together and I suppose the brass thought that Tom just drank too much, drove when he shouldn’t have and was killed. No one would ever think to question it, not with Scott Hope there, to relay the ‘real’ story. Besides,” she continued in her misery voice, “Tom was cremated, immediately. Everyone thought it best, for his folks and all. His body, after the wreak. It was mangled and….” She finished with a whimper and swiped at the fresh tears from her eyes.

“Christ,” Spike hissed in exasperation. “Of course, why would they? The Sunnydale Police brass that is. Another, miserable cop, unhappy, guilt ridden, mixed up with an underage girl like Amy? Perfect scenario for a drunken, remorseful cop to drink and drive. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if this Hope fuck had a hand in ‘upping’ the ante of Ford’s death. May have even slipped something in his drink, you know?”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Buffy muttered, suddenly feeling woozy again. “But not before I tell you this.” She gazed at Will, her eyes, once again frightened. He looked terrified for her and she felt like a real whimp. ‘Toughen up,’ she ordered herself.

“A few years ago, after I lost the baby and Riley left me,” Buffy whispered, suddenly ashamed of the whole thing. “Scott, he was in the Narcotics Division. There was a big raid. Well, at least for Sunnydale, it was big. Lots of drugs, massive amounts for up here, and can you guess who was probably behind the little Sunnydale Cocaine caper?”

“My cousin,” Spike mumbled, shame faced.

“Yeah, good old Holden, but nothing was ever proved. Anyway, before the contraband got to the station, some of it, okay, a lot of it went missing. At least that’s what some reliable sources said.”

Buffy scrunched up her face, her expression was thoughtful, but slightly angry. She continued her story.

“There was a lot of finger pointing, a lot of ‘gossip’ around the water coolers in the Precinct. Some people felt that Scott Hope was behind the disappearance of the missing drugs. He was the ‘man’ as far as the raid went, after all.”

“What happened?” Spike asked, not really surprised at all.

“Before there was any major investigation, before any charges were brought against Scott, everything was dropped. Like an iron anvil. On the word of a very trusted man in the DA’s office. Scott was ‘exhonerated’ even before a charge was uttered from Internal Affairs or the DA’s office. Nothing ever came of it, nothing was said about it, officially, again.”

Buffy gazed at William, her heart was racing, she felt light-headed. This was becoming way too much, for her even to digest.

“Want to guess who the DA’s little helper was? The one that had the ‘inquiries’ about Scott dropped?” she asked her husband, her brow raised.

“Angel O’Connor,” Spike responded evenly. “He made sure that Scott Hope was off the hook and cleared of anything. Even from finger pointing and name calling, right?”

“Right,” Buffy sighed. “Not only that, but earlier, when Angel was a Public Defender? He was the one that represented the so called gang member that shot me, instead of Tom Ford. He got the kid off, with a few months in Juvy and a slap on the wrist. At the time, I thought it was just Angel’s job, to defend to the end and all that crap. Thought old Angel was a real good lawyer and all. But now?”

“Maybe,” Spike clasped Buffy to him, “maybe not, but we need to read more of this. Find out some answers. If Angel O’Connor was in Holden’s pocket? His name has to be on this list somewhere.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Buffy sighed, sorrowfully. “Guess who else’s name might be on that list?” she added. The pain she felt was overwhelming, but she tried to put on a brave front for William.

“Buffy,” Spike muttered, gazing into his wife’s beautiful green eyes. “We don’t have to do this, tonight that is. We can wait and…..”

“No,” Buffy responded with a stubborn tone and a shake of her head. “Let’s do this. Read it, Will. Please,” she pleaded softly.

(Holden’s)

‘I have to to tell you, Cousin, that you would be amazed how corrupt certain cops and so called ‘uncorruptable’ big shots are easily swayed to the dark side. Scott Hope was just one cop on my payroll; there were more, a lot more.

2) Riley Finn:

This guy was a real mystery, even to me. He was not only Buffy Summers precious husband, but a real pretend boy scout. His cover was perfect; so was his cover for his other life. I doubt that Miss Summers would have stayed with hubby any longer then necessary if she had known exactly what ‘he’ did for me. Suffice to say, Finn was a puppet and a follower, that is until his wife was shot. After that, and the loss of his and Buffy’s child, old Riley grew some kind of a conscious and took off for Los Angeles with his new wife.

By the way, Samantha, Riley Finn’s present wife (at least, I guess she still is) is an old friend of mine. Let’s just say that sweet Sammy didn’t pursue Finn just because of his ‘country boy’ demeanor or wholesome looks. You know what I mean?’


Spike held Buffy to him, tightly, as it felt like she was about to bolt from his arms and head off to God knows where.

“Don’t baby,” he pleaded, “don’t take off from my arms. I’m here for you. I’ll never leave you, betray or deceive you. Don’t run from me, please.”

Buffy began to cry, not so softly this time. She clung to her husband like a vice and sobbed into his chest.

“I can’t believe it,” she wept, her voice was strained and cracked by her tears. “How could Riley do it? Be a part of that monster? He said he loved me, wanted ‘me’ for me. He was a good cop, or so I was led to believe. All the time, he was involved with Holden and this mess. Even after the baby?”

Spike rocked Buffy in his arms and tried to soothe her. “He was weak, Buffy,” Spike sighed, his tone was comforting and gentle. “People are weak Buffy, for many reasons. Some are weaker then others. If Riley was that way, then so be it. Not your fault.”

“I know,” she sniffed, wiping her tears, “I guess I should be happy that it was Riley, not my Giles that was involved with Holden. After I caught Riley, with Samantha? I lost all faith and trust in him, anyway. About Giles, though, you don’t think he’s a part of all this, too. Do you?”

“Probabaly not,” Spike shook his head. “Giles is an up front guy. I’ve got a certain intuition about people, even strangers. Your Rupert is a real solid bloke, not a corrupt bone in the old guy’s body. I’m sure of it.”

Buffy sighed in relief and finished wiping her fresh tears from her hot face. “Oh, God, Will,” she nuzzled her mouth into his neck, “I’m so lucky to have you here with me.”

“Maybe,” Spike grinned and rubbed his wife’s soft head, affectionately, “but I think I’m the lucky one, sweet. I love you so much.”


A/N: A little teaser of a chapter while I finish the next chapter of ‘Na Grach Croi’ and all. I hope this wasn’t too unrealistic and all. Do not fear, there are more names and they will be named, (some of them that is). I had to get the two more obvious names out in this chapter and I’ll give you another clue here: Neither Scott Hope, nor Riley Finn are the murderers…..Please read and review. Thank you all, luv, Spuf





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