SANTA BARBARA- 1987

On the other side of the red velvet curtain, the principal was trying to bring order to the dozens of classes gathered in the auditorium.

Gus glanced nervously down at his note cards, shuffling through them and mouthing the words he had long ago memorized. He’d practiced his speech so many times in the bedroom mirror that he was confident he would remember it without the cards... even if the butterflies in his stomach didn’t disappear.

Gus was wearing the suit that was usually reserved only for school picture days. His mom had made an exception – it wasn’t every day that your son gave a speech that would win him the election.

Next to him, Shawn slurped loudly on a Capri-Sun, almost completely oblivious to the reason he was on the stage. His shirt was wrinkled and untucked, his jeans were mostly hole-free, and his hair had its usual carefully-disheveled look.

Shawn didn’t have any note cards, not that he needed them anyway. Like his best friend and chief political rival, he knew exactly what he was going to say.

The two boys winced at the screech of feedback as the principal finally gave up shouting and turned on the microphone.

Gus was giving his speech first. He adjusted his tie and tweaked the large, homemade GUSTER FOR STUDENT BODY PRESIDENT button on his lapel. Shawn thought he could skate through the campaign on popularity, a popularity mostly funded by the bags of Skittles and Jolly Ranchers he gave away for free at lunch, but Gus was going to show him. Gimmicks did not win elections; having a strong platform and speaking concisely on the important issues won elections.

Gus put his note cards in his pocket and smoothed his jacket.

Shawn took a few steps towards him.

“Hey, Gus, whatever happens out there, we’ll still be friends, right?”

Gus smiled smugly. Shawn was finally sensing that he was going to lose.

“Of course, Shawn. Best friends for life.”

“No matter what?” Shawn asked meekly.

“No matter what,” Gus confirmed.

Shawn grinned. “Good. I’m glad you said that.”

Suddenly, he removed the straw from his Capri-Sun and squirted it in the direction of Gus’s crotch. To Gus’s horror, the tropical juice soaked through his pants almost instantly and in the most embarrassing pattern possible.

Gus looked down at his pants, aghast. “Shawn!”

“I’m so sorry, Gus. I’m such a klutz!” Shawn pulled a napkin out of his pocket. “You should really try to dry that. It looks like you peed your pants.”

Gus’s shock had turned to anger. He narrowed his eyes and snatched the napkin from Shawn’s hands.

“You are going down, Shawn,” he muttered, wiping desperately at his pants just as the red curtain began to pull back.

Gus didn’t even hear his introduction. Or Shawn’s snickers. Or the stunned silence of the entire student body.

He rushed over to the podium, hoping nobody’d had time to spy the suspicious stain.

He pulled his note cards out, flipping through them desperately as he felt tears stinging his eyes.

Shawn was going to pay.

Big time.

*                                  *                                              *                      *

SANTA BARBARA- TODAY

Lassiter cleared his throat, pulling the chair out as Chief Vick took a seat across from him.

“Let’s just do this, Carlton,” she snapped irritably, running a finger through her slightly disheveled hair. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, and Iris hasn’t been sleeping lately.”

“Right,” he nodded, taking out his pad, preparing to jot down notes, not looking up at her.

He shifted uneasily in his chair, clearing his throat again.

“Uh…” he started, but hesitated before actually getting a sentence out.

“Carlton!” she groaned, glaring at him. “You’re head detective! You’ve questioned suspects before!”

“I know…” he snapped back defensively, his ears tinting with red.

“Then ask your questions already so we can get to the bottom of this!” she urged. “I’m just another suspect, and we we’re wasting time!”

 “Right, Chief…” he nodded, gathering his courage. “So…where were you around nine o’clock tonight?”

“At home.”

“Any witnesses?”

“Just my husband and Iris.”

He nodded skeptically, eyeing her as if he suspected she might be lying through her teeth as he jotted the information down.

“And you haven’t seen Fred Dehavilland since the Fire and Police Commission meeting earlier tonight, right?” he pressed on, the typically cynical, reproachful tone he always used in interrogations creeping into his voice.

“No,” she confirmed. “I saw him crossing the City Hall parking lot when we got out around seven, going to his car.”

“Well, he never made it to his car!” Lassiter shouted, slamming the table with his fist, his bad cop persona taking over. “Someone got to him first!”

“Carlton!” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t kidnap Fred! I’m a police chief!”

“That doesn’t put you above the law!”

“I have an alibi!”

“We’ll see what the DA has to say about that!” he growled, his eyes narrowing at her. “Once I get a search warrant for your house and office--”

“Carlton!” she snapped again, smacking the side of his head as she matched his glare. “You don’t need a search warrant for my office! You have the key!”

He blinked at the light blow, clearing his throat as he dropped the gruff demeanor. “Right.”

“Did you have any other questions?” she demanded sarcastically, crossing her arms. “Or do you think you’re ready to make an arrest?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I have other questions. Did you see him talking to anyone else….ma’am?” he added quickly.

“No,” she told him firmly. “But I didn’t stick around. I was tired. I just wanted to get home. Three hours of budget talk was more than enough.”

“Budget talk?” Lassiter raised his eyebrows. “Is that what the meeting was about?”

“Yeah,” Vick nodded. “We’re preparing the annual Police and Fire Commission budget proposal. We spent three hours going over it.”

“Who else was there?” Lassiter demanded, shoving the pad at her, for another brief moment forgetting who she was. “I want names and addresses!”

She just glared at him until he backed down.

“…If you don’t mind…please…” he added.

She rolled her eyes and took the pad from him, jotting the names down. “It was just Fred, me, the Fire Chief and Andy Chase, the other board member.”

“Did any of them threaten Dehavilland?” Lassiter asked.

“Over the budget?” Vick laughed. “No. That would’ve made it almost interesting.”

“Well, he never made it home!” Lassiter snapped, once again allowing himself to shout. “And the last people to see him were the people at that meeting!”

“I’ve worked with them for years, Carlton,” the Chief sighed. “They didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Yeah, well,” Lassiter muttered, pushing back from the table and standing up. “We’ll see about that.”

He paused at the door, turning back around, casting her a warning glare. “And you’d better stay in town, just in case I have any more questions for you.”