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A MURDER IN SUNNYDALE


Chapter 34: ‘Meet The Parents’


Spike was frustrated beyond frustration. The puppy he had given his bride was beginning to wear just a tad thin right about now. Winston, as the Mastiff was named, was playing a game of tug-o-war with the bed covers and the dog was definitely winning.

“Baby,” Spike sighed heavily, “I think Winston should go into the kitchen for the night.” He threw in a little pout, just to push his case. Sadly, his wife, Buffy, appeared to be immuned to his own sad sack expressions, at least at the moment. She was totally enamored of the little pooch who was now nibbling at her toes beneath the bed covers.

“He’ll be cold and lonely in there,” Buffy stated with pursed lips as she snuggled her puppy to her. “He doesn’t understand that his brothers and sisters are gone and won’t be back,” she pouted herself.

“He’ll be fine,” Spike said gruffly, “he’s a damn dog, for God’s sake. The kitchen is fine for him. We’ll put a ton of blankets in there, some food and water. Frankly, Princess,” he continued in exasperation, “I don’t care if he’s lonely or not. Don’t fancy a canine watching me make love to my wife.”

Spike crossed his arms, stubbornly, over his bare chest and gave the so called puppy an evil eye of his own. This was getting ridiculous. It was well past midnight and the little mutt had not gone to sleep yet. Winston the wonder dog was keeping Spike from making love to Buffy and he was derailing their sleep, completely.

“You bought the poor little thing,” Buffy pouted again, rubbing Winston’s massive head. “How can you turn him out, into the cold, soulless kitchen? He’ll be miserable in there and…”

Spike leapt up from the bed and grabbed Winston. “He’ll be fine here,” he informed Buffy, sternly, as he laid out some newspapers and set Winston’s food and water bowl on them. “He’s in the room with us, on the floor,” Spike continued as he laid out a nice cozy blankie for the puppy.

“He wants us,” Buffy sighed, her mouth set in a stubborn line. “He’ll miss us up here and…” Before she could utter another word, Winston looked up at his master and mistress, yawned loudly and snuggled down into the blanket on the floor.

Before either William or Buffy could say another word, Winston the Mastiff was sound asleep on the soft material of the blanket. Buffy looked at the little pooch, skeptically, then at her husband. He was looking all smug and such, his smirk was wider then usual.

“He’ll be fine, baby,” Spike murmered to Buffy as he carefully lay down beside her. “Now it’s time to thank me for your gift. Right?”

Buffy giggled, softly, trying not to wake the darling little pup. She allowed Will to pull her up close to his naked body and wrap his arms about her.

“Right,” she whispered into his neck, just before she nipped at his pulse point there. “Time for your thanks!”

“That’s my baby,” Spike moaned in pleasure as Buffy sucked on his cock, eagerly. “Just like that, sweet,” he encouraged her, not that she needed it. Buffy was quite adept at this act of carnel love and…..

‘Holy shit,’ Spike suddenly wanted to bolt up and ask questions. ‘How the fuck did Buffy get so damned good at blow jobs?’

He eventually decided to let the matter drop, especially when Buffy elegantly finished off the oral ministrations to his cock and seemed to enjoy every moment of it.

‘Bloody hell,’ Spike purred silently as he let go, completely. ‘Next time we do this, my cock just might sit up and sing the Star Spangled Banner as it salutes my girl’s talented mouth.’

“Come ‘ere, sweet,” Spike growled at Buffy, pulling her up into his embrace. “Time to ride the Big Bad,” he chuckled as he stationed her over his penis and thrust up into her, even as she slid down on him.

Buffy rode her man for all it was worth and man, it was worth plenty. Will groaned and moaned in pleasure while she danced on his wonderful, huge shaft.

“Like that baby?” she asked in her most sultry voice. “Does that feel good?”

“Fuck yes,” Spike gasped in response, “better then good. It feels fucking amazing!” His eyes rolled back into his head and he was now panting in short, heavy gasps.

They fell asleep, aftwards, wrapped in each other’s loving embrace. Fortunately, Winston stayed put, right on the warm blankie next to the bed.

“Thank God I’m off today,” Buffy sighed as she sipped her second cup of coffee and watched Will read the paper. She had that Saturday off, as per schedule, and Buffy was relieved to be home with her husband and Winston all day. For one thing, Will and her had some things to discuss, starting with their living arrangements once this case was over and everything was settled?

Winston was stumbling around, over his huge paws, about their feet at the kitchen table. Occasionally, the pooch would pause and nip at either Buffy’s or Spike’s ankles, gently gnawing at their bare flesh.

“He’s so cute,” Buffy cooed down at Winston, glancing coyly at her husband from time-to-time. “My puppy loves us,” she purred, reaching down to pet the beautiful ball of fur.

“Yeah, cute,” Spike grumbled, but with a smile. “As long as he sleeps in the kitchen tonight, or at least on the floor, he’s bloody adorable.”

Buffy pouted, big time, her bottom lip stuck out and her green eyes scolded Spike.

“What?” he asked, innocently enough, as he took a bite of his bagel. “I wanted the dog, no question, baby,” he explained, chewing his food thoughtfully, “but not in our bed. And not when we’re fuc…..”

“William!” Buffy gasped, “not in front of the baby!”

“Okay Buffy, that’s it,” Spike growled, “he’s a dog, not a human child and I’m not going to quit saying things like fuck, shag, blow jobs or…..”

Their conversation was interrupted by the ring of the phone. Buffy jumped up to grab it, grinning at Will, saucily, “fuck?” she mouthed at him happily.

“Hello,” Buffy answered the phone, happy when her father, Hank, greeted her.

“Listen honey,” Hank began quickly, “I thought I’d drive Mom and me up there, today, to meet William and all. I have some information, already, on those names you gave me and maybe a little input on this Webster/McClay murder case. Something struck me, just last night, about the case. Thought you might be interested?”

“Of course, Dad,” Buffy responded eagerly, “we need all the help we cant get on this. Besides, you need to see your Grandson again and I do want you to meet Will. He wants to meet you two, also.”

She glanced at William and mouthed, ‘right?’

“Right,” Spike grinned back at her. Actually, he did want to meet Buffy’s folks. Ever since he found out that the Summers were not adverse to his marrying their daughter, Spike wasn’t a bit intimidated by either Hank or Joyce.

“Come for dinner?” Buffy offered, “I’ll make some pasta and we’ll have wine. Please, Dad?”

Spike watched Buffy’s face go from happy to glowing in a matter of seconds. His heart skipped a beat, ‘I love her so,’ he said to himself. ‘She’s my Princess, my Goddess and I’m one lucky bloke to have found her.’

Buffy rushed about the apartment, making sure everything was in place and ready for her parents’ arrival. Between Will and herself, they had cooked up a wonderful dinner menu and Buffy found herself looking forward to the meeting.

The doorbell rang, and Will hurried out of the bedroom. He wore a nice pair of Dockers pants, a blue button down shirt and some nice shoes. Not the Doc Martens he preferred, she noticed. This somewhat saddened her, Buffy loved her William, loved his quirks and everything about him. The ‘boots’ he preferred to wear, were part of him and she wanted to be sure that her husband realized that.

“Here goes,” Buffy sighed as she answered the door.

“Honey!” Joyce Summers exclaimed loudly, clutching her oldest daughter to her body. “You must be Will,” the elder Summers woman gushed, looking over at her new son-in-law.

“Buffy, honey, he’s adorable,” Joyce whispered to Buffy with a warm wink.

Buffy blushed, Spike blushed and Hank Summers rolled his blue eyes. “Hello, son,” Buffy’s father greeted Spike with a firm handshake. He eyed his daughter’s husband, carefully, almost sizing the man up by the feel of his handshake.

“Hello, sir,” Spike responded all manly like, making sure to shake Buffy’s dad’s hand just as firmly as the old man did his.

“Mrs. Summers,” Spike nodded at Buffy’s mum, politely.

“Call me Joyce, please. And call old Hank here, well, call him Hank,” Joyce chuckled. “This is ridiculous, let’s not stand on pretenses, you’re married to our daughter. We’re family and that’s that. Let’s stop this overly polite nonsense and have a glass of wine to toast your marriage.”

Buffy broke out into loud laughter and took her mother’s arm in hers, “thanks Mom,” she chuckled. “You’ve always been the practical one.”

Hank Summers slapped Spike on the back, good-naturedly, “they’re really something, eh?” he asked the younger man. “Our wives, I mean. There’s something about the Summers women,” he continued, “something tough, but loving. A blessing,” Hank said softly, “our girls are a blessing to us all.”

“Too true,” Spike whispered, watching his little wife in awe, “Buffy’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He allowed his new father-in-law to lead him to the living room couch and plopped down next to him.

Later, after a wonderful supper, the four people sat and discussed all kinds of things. Buffy gushed over Winston and made sure that all of the other people present got to hold and cuddle the puppy, at least once. Hank gave the pup a wary eye, but Joyce seemed to fall in love with Winston, instantly, just like her daughter had.

Hank finally sat his wine glass on the coffee table coaster that was provided and stood up. He headed over to his briefcase that he’d sat on the little front door end table and opened it. When he joined his wife, daughter and son-in-law on again, he carried with him a huge envelope.

“I’ve got some papers in here,” Hank muttered, his brows in a scowl, “and a CD with some information you wanted. On old Riley and some of his cohorts in LA. I’m sorry, Bunny Rabbit,” Hank mumbled, seemingly a bit ashamed, “but Riley has been less then honest, with any of us, for a long time now.”

“Bunny Rabbit?” Spike choked out, his left brow raised in surprise.

“Bunny Rabbit,” Buffy pouted, “Daddy’s called me Bunny Rabbit since day one. It’s his pet name for me,” she said somewhat defensively.

“It’s downright precious, baby,” Spike smirked at his wife, “I love it. Think I’ll call you that from now on and…..”

Buffy shot Spike a murderous look, “only Daddy calls me Bunny Rabbit. Princess is just fine from you, Mister,” she reassured Will.

“It’s okay, Dad,” Buffy placed her right hand on Hank’s arm, comfortingly, “I’ve finally come to grips with my past and Riley. He can’t hurt me anymore.” She gazed at Will, affectionately.

Spike smiled at Buffy, lovingly, “let him try and hurt my girl,” he murmered to her. He caught the relieved looks that Hank and Joyce gave each other.

“We can go over the CD and paperwork later,” Hank continued evenly, “I think you both need to hear something, from me. Right now that is, about this murder of William’s cousin and Miss McClay.”

Buffy and Spike exchanged anxious glances and then returned their attention to Hank Summers. Mr. Summers seemed thoughtful and distracted for a moment, then leaned forward and motioned his son-in-law and daugher to listen.

“Some years ago,” Hank began, “when I was still a rookie cop, new to the force here in Sunnydale…” he paused, deep in thought and rememberance, then went on.

“There was a case that perplexed us, for quite a while. At first we, the department and all, thought that it was a simple open and shut suicide case. A young local woman by the name of Faith Evans was found with her head blown off, in the bedroom of her apartment.

Joyce cringed, visibly, “I remember that case,” she said, her voice shakey. “Dad was upset for weeks, couldn’t get that sight of poor Faith Evans out of his mind. She came from a pretty affluent family, had been a fairly attractive young woman. There was a suicide note, right honey?” Joyce asked Hank.

“Yes,” the oldest Summers nodded, “there was a note, left, presumably by Miss Evans. My partner, Rupert Giles and I, were the first policeman on the scene. Seemed like an open and shut case, at first that is.”

Hank stood up and began to pace about the living room. “This was the early 70’s,” he added with a shrug, “Buffy was only about two-years-old then. Dawn wasn’t even thought of and I was young and inexperienced as far as police work went. Rupert was a little more savy, but not much.”

Spike squeezed Buffy’s hand in his, just a little tighter, “was there a question, about the suicide Hank?” he asked.

“Not at first,” Hank shook his head, “but then a female homicide detective showed up on the case. A few days after the discovery. Her name was Lisa Wood, this Robin’s mother, she was. Tough little cookie with a great reputation around Sunnydale. Sad to say, she was killed later in the year, on a case.” He shook his head again, but then sat back down next to his own wife on the couch.

“Anyway, Lisa Wood was called onto the case and she made a rather startling suggestion about it. Something Officer Wood said then has always stuck with me and when Buffy told me that Katerina McClay was shot in the stomach? Lisa’s words reared up and I took notice.”

“What’s that Dad,” Buffy asked nervously, squeezing Will’s hand even tighter still.

“Being a woman cop,” Hank continued cautiously, “Lisa Wood had more insight into the female psyche, of course, then any of us macho, posturing males could have. She mentioned the fact that Faith Evans had ‘shot herself’ in the head and found that to be a little suspicious. As your Mom said, Faith Evans was a fairly attractive woman and quite young. Lisa Wood pointed out that women are ‘protective’ of their looks, their beauty, even sometimes in death.”

“Dad,” Buffy sighed, “I’m not getting this, please elaborate.”

“Honey,” Hank began again, “Lisa made it clear that a woman, especially a somewhat self-concious woman like Faith Evans would not commit suicide by shooting herself in her head. Her looks would be destroyed, right?”

“Right,” Buffy nodded, “so Lisa Wood thought that it wasn’t suicide? Because of the head wound?”

“Right,” Hank nodded, “Wood was sure it was murder, covered up to look like a suicide. A woman like Faith would be more prone to take an overdose of pills, or hang herself, even shoot herself in the stomach. But in the head? Destroy her looks? Lisa Wood was never convinced that Evans died of a self-inflicted gun shot.”

“Katerina was shot in the stomach…are you saying, Dad, that she may have shot Holden, then herself, or visa-versa?” Buffy was stunned, a murder/suicide pact was never even considered on the Webster/McClay case.

“No,” Hank shook his head, adamantly, “I have no doubt that those two people were murdered. Plain and simple. What I’m saying is that if a ‘female’ committed the murders, then she would not have been adverse to shooting both victims in the head. A jealous female rival? It wouldn’t have mattered, to shoot both victims in the head. But a male? A man who wanted, or even loved Katerina McClay himself? Would he have been able to, even out of jealousy, to have shot his object of obsession, Katerina, in the head and destroy her beauty? Probably not.”

Buffy gasped, William sighed and Joyce grinned smugly. “Your Father has always been the most adept detective, honey,” Joyce purred proudly as she leaned over and kissed Hank’s cheek.

“So,” Buffy stammered, “it’s pretty obvious that the murderer is probably a male. Someone who loved, or at least was obsessed with Katerina?” She was somewhat shocked that her own team of cops had not figured this out.

“Not obvious,” Hank assured his daughter, “but fairly reasonable. Look, you said Katerina was shot in the stomach, while Holden was shot in the head. This perp, he had to have been more concerned with preserving Miss McClay’s facial looks then how long it took her to die. A stomach wound is going to take minutes to end in death, perhaps and hour or more, while a head wound? Properly done?”

Buffy leaned into Will and buried her head into his chest. She was so stunned that she could barely speak.

“My God,” Buffy hissed in shock, “Holden and Katerina, they didn’t die because of something Webster was into.” She gazed up into Will’s blue eyes, the ones that were now puzzled and filled with pain.

“They died,” Buffy continued, nervously, “because of something Katerina McClay was into.”


A/N: Any readers up for a little murder myster mayhem tonight? I hope this is not offensive to anyone reading this.

1) First off, yes, this theory of Hank’s is something I have studied before and found to be usually true. A woman is less likely to shoot herself in the head, period. However, a jealous female murderer might do just that, to ruin her rival’s beauty.

2) If Amy was the real murderer, then why not shoot both victims in the head? However, on the other hand, she loved Holden, remember? So ‘why’ shoot him in the head and destroy her ex-lover’s beauty?

2) Katerina McClay was shot in the stomach, yes, and it was a slower way to die, however, was there another reason for this gun shot wound and the locality of it?

We are getting closer to the ‘end’ of the murder mystery in this fiction. However, the other loose ends of the fic will need to be solved and tied up.

Thanks for reading, please review. Luv, Spuf





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