"It was just a petty squabble, but then Aaron shoved me, and I shoved back; the next thing I knew, punches were being thrown. I can't believe it came to that. He was my best friend. All my life I always knew I could count on Aaron. But I had let my jealousy over Annabelle cloud my senses; I'd convinced myself he was my only obstacle in vying for her affections. And when the scuffle took us too close to the falls, and he slipped, I didn't reach out to him. I stood by while his tenuous hold on the mossy rocks slowly failed, and when my conscience roused enough for me to make a lunge to try to grab his outstretched hand, it was too late. I killed my best friend..."

--excerpt from a letter by Jacob Barton to his father, Ephraim

Smoky Hills Part 37
The Usual Suspects

By Monday morning, Duo seemed like his old self, grumbling about having to get up and haul his ass to work, cheering up a bit over coffee, and reading the comics he'd missed the previous day.

As usual, Quatre was leaving an hour earlier than his employee, so that he had time to open up the office and sort the mail that the morning truck brought. But on his way out, he stopped to put a caring hand on Duo's shoulder. "Sure you want to work today?" he asked. "I could call Callie."

"Naw, I'm good," Duo shrugged, looking up with an only slightly haggard gaze. "Really. Besides, working will keep me busy--keep my mind occupied."

"I suppose it will," Quatre agreed.

"I wonder, though," Duo mused, absently smoothing the paper. "Heero heard from Chang on Friday. Y'think the local shitheads will know by now?"

"Probably. Why?" Quatre asked, beginning to smirk. "You want to go say you told them so?"

"Well, yeah. I filed that missing persons report all those years ago, and they fuckin' laughed at me, when they should've been out looking for Solo." His eyes narrowed as he looked up from the comics page. "Maybe he'd still be alive if they'd done their job."

Quatre grimaced, envisioning Duo going toe to toe with the local police over their incompetence. Even though the braided man was completely in the right, he was liable to bite off more than he could chew.

"I'll talk to my sister about a wrongful death lawsuit," he offered, hoping to calm his volatile roommate. "If the forensic people determine that there might have been a window of opportunity to save him--well, who knows?"

He didn't hold out much hope. The incident had happened so long ago that they'd be lucky to determine cause of death, let alone whether Solo had been abducted for a period of time beforehand.

Duo's thoughts must have followed the same track, because he gave a sad smile and shook his head. "You an' I both know there won't be a way to prove that shit. But thanks for the thought." He shrugged and looked back at his paper. "I'll just have to take satisfaction in reminding Ralph over an' over how useless their whole department is."

Quatre breathed a quiet sigh, relieved that Duo wasn't planning anything over the top. Clearly he was thinking much more calmly now. "I'll help you," he promised. "See you in a bit."

Duo nodded, and Quatre headed out the door, pausing to take a deep breath of the cool morning air, which was laden with earthy smells. This was his favorite time of year--mid-Spring, when everything was bursting into life, and the days were getting longer and warmer. He looked forward to long walks and plenty of outdoor activities. And he was also hoping to have a chance to share some of that with Trowa, once he determined the other man's intentions.

He still hadn't mentioned the lunch to Duo, figuring he'd tell him when the time came--or when Trowa arrived to pick him up. At that point, maybe it would be just as well to let Duo confront Trowa, if he decided the auburn-haired man was cheating on Heero. That would give Trowa a chance to come right out and tell them what sort of relationship existed between him and Heero--and hopefully, to set Duo's fears to rest.

Quatre got into his car and was about to start the engine when a police cruiser pulled in behind him, and Ralph and Alex got out.

He opened his door and went to meet them by the gate. "What's going on?"

"Maxwell home?" Ralph asked, jerking a thumb towards the door.

"Yes--he's getting ready for work." Quatre crossed his arms, fixing a stern look on Ralph. "If you've come to tell him about Solo, he already knows--"

Alex gave a sharp, derisive laugh. "I'll bet he does!"

Ralph elbowed his partner into silence and looked somberly at Quatre. "We're here to take Maxwell down to the station to answer some questions."

"Questions? As in--?" Quatre's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "I hope you're not suggesting what I think you are--!"

"What?" sneered Alex. "That Maxwell killed Stevens and dumped the body on the Barton place? Seems pretty obvious to me."

"Alex!" Ralph cautioned sharply. He turned to meet Quatre's accusing glare. "It's the Chief's orders. He told us to start with Maxwell because he was closest to Stevens."

"He was also the one who filed the missing persons report."

"Yeah, and a nice bit of diversion that was," Alex piped up.

Quatre's eyes blazed with anger. "Duo was also the one who lost the most when Solo went missing! He loved him, you narrow-minded twit!"

"Wouldn't be the first time someone killed their lover," Alex retorted.

Quatre rolled his eyes. "Get your head out of your ass, Brown! You've known Duo for how long? You know he's not capable of murder. I've only been around a few years and I know that."

In the midst of their bickering, Duo stepped out onto the porch, and Ralph quickly stepped up to intercept him. "Maxwell--you need to come with Alex and me. The Chief has some questions about the last time you saw Stevens."

Duo hesitated, casting a questioning glance at Quatre--whose tight jaw and angry glare told the whole story--and then looking back at Ralph. "Am I under arrest?"

"Not yet," Ralph said with a shrug. "And if you come along quietly, we won't bother with handcuffs or anything."

Duo's face darkened at the implied threat. "I'm on my way to work, Ralph. This can wait until after I deliver the route." He turned as if to walk past them towards his Jeep.

"Told ya he'd put up a fuss," Alex said triumphantly, reaching for his set of handcuffs.

"Can it, Al!" Ralph snapped. "Don't be difficult, Maxwell. Just get in the squad car."

"He's not going anywhere with you until I talk to a lawyer!" Quatre insisted, pulling out his cell phone.

Alex turned his attention to the blonde. "You can't stop us from taking him, Winner. Call all the lawyers you like, but he's still coming downtown!" He grabbed Duo's arm in a bruising grip, and the mailman jerked free, turning as if to fight--at which point Ralph caught one of his wrists and slapped on a handcuff, sharply twisting the limb up behind his back and pushing him against the wall of the house.

"You know better, Duo," he chided. "Resisting arrest?" He smoothly hooked up the second cuff, locking Duo's arms behind his back.

"Thought you weren't arresting me--" Duo sneered.

"Brown grabbed him first!" Quatre blurted angrily. "There was no need--!"

"You wanna end up in the cell beside his?" Ralph warned. "Just keep yapping. Otherwise, let us do our job."

"Your job doesn't include bullying people, and--"

Duo's voice cut him off. "Stop, Quat! Just--let it alone." The braided man was pinned against the clapboard siding, his breathing still strained from the scuffle. "They've got nothing," he muttered. "So I spend the morning answering their lame questions. It's no big deal."

"Yes, it is!" Quatre said hotly. "They have no reason to keep you from work; you could just as easily stop at the station on your way home. They're just misusing their authority--as usual!"

"One more word," Ralph cautioned, "and I'll arrest you for obstruction."

Duo shook his head. "Please, Quat! Just go to work. Call Callie to do my route, an' I'll be home before supper." He met the blonde's eyes as best he could, pressed against the wall. "Don't get into trouble for me. There's no need. I'll be fine."

Ralph eased the pressure on Duo's back, and the braided man straightened, squaring his shoulders. "Not like it's the first time I've ever been in jail." He jerked free of Ralph's hand on his wrist, and pushed past Alex, walking calmly down the steps and over to the squad car.

While Alex was busy opening the door and settling Duo in the back seat, Quatre turned a heated look on Ralph. "Expect Duo's lawyer to be there shortly." He walked over to the cruiser before Alex could close the door. "Don't answer any questions until I get a lawyer for you."

Duo looked up and shook his head. "Don't be melodramatic, Quat. And don't waste your money. I don't need a lawyer. I didn't kill Solo, and these bozos know it. They're just overcompensating for the fact that they fucked up the missing persons case eight years ago. We could've found Solo that much sooner, while we had half a chance of catching the murderer." He darted a glance at Alex, while still addressing his roommate. "Let 'em pretend to be real cops. It don't mean shit."

Quatre frowned with concern. "You should have legal representation, Duo."

"Why? You think I'll admit to anything they can use against me?" Duo mustered a cocky smirk, a dangerous gleam in the indigo eyes. "Not a chance in Hell, buddy. You go get the office opened up before you end up in trouble. I'll be home in time for lunch."

Reluctantly Quatre stepped back, allowing Alex to close the door. Ralph went around to the driver's side and got in, while Alex took the passenger seat, and they drove off leaving a very perturbed postmaster in their wake.

"Unbelievable!" he blurted in frustration, clenching his fists so tightly his nails almost cut into the palms of his hands. "The gall of them! Making a victim into their scapegoat!"

With a Herculean effort, he shook of his anger and glanced at his watch, realizing he'd have to hurry to be at the office on time.

"This isn't over," he ground out between clenched teeth as he jogged back to his car and hopped in. "He may not want a lawyer--but he's getting one!"

He quickly started up the car and headed for work, deciding along the way that if he didn't hear from Duo by the time he closed the office for lunch, he'd go straight home and start calling his sister's office. At the very least, she could probably put in a call to the Smoky Hills police and convince them to cut Duo loose until she, or someone she appointed from her firm, could get there to act as his legal representative--if it came to that.

Quatre didn't think it would go that far--that they'd actually try to charge Duo in Solo's death. But he was troubled that they'd even taken him in for questioning. Surely after all the years they'd known him, they couldn't truly believe he was capable of murder--could they?

Quatre didn't believe it--not for a minute.

Despite Duo's temper, the blonde was quite certain he could never kill someone. Even accidentally. And he was furious that Ralph and Alex, who'd more or less grown up with Duo, could act like they thought he had.

"Assholes."

He scowled as he drove, his mind wandering back to the day he and Duo had come back from camping. He remembered Duo's reluctance to seek out the location of the skeleton that day, and how he'd attributed it to Duo's superstitious nature, when it came to Smoky Hills. But when it crossed his mind now, for a moment, he found himself wondering if it was something else entirely that made Duo want to avoid the place.

Afraid to revisit the scene of the crime?

Quatre snorted skeptically. "I've got to stop letting Duo's ghost stories get to me. Ralph and Alex might be idiots, but I'm not."

He supposed if someone wanted to be the suspicious type, they might analyze Duo's recent behavior to find guilt in his actions. But he was Duo's friend, and he wasn't even going to go down that road.

First off, if Duo had killed Solo, he wouldn't have fallen apart at the news of his death; he'd have known the minute they found the skeleton that it was Solo. He sure as hell wouldn't have gone to Heero looking for confirmation.

Secondly, Duo's breakdown over the weekend was a clear indicator of pain and grief. He was broken-hearted over the news of Solo's death, and there was just no way he could have faked that reaction.

The image of Duo sobbing in the shower, clutching the little gold cross around his neck superimposed itself over the road in front of Quatre for a moment. And even as his breath caught in sympathy, he remembered Duo saying he'd given it to Solo.

Had Solo given it back at some point--maybe when they started dating? If not, how did it end up around Duo's neck?

Quatre stopped that train of thought before he could imagine Duo taking it off a dead body. He seriously needed to stop channeling Duo's vivid imagination. There was a simple explanation for how Duo had the cross back, and Quatre could ask him the next time he saw him.

"I'm losing my mind," he sighed as he pulled into the post office and parked his car. He closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure. "I know Duo. I know him better than anyone. And little bullshit inconsistencies aside, there's no way he could've killed Solo. He'd have to be totally insane to have done something like that, and then moped for years about the guy having walked out on him. Even Duo's not that good of an actor."

Welcome to Smoky Hills, land of weirdness.

~*~

Having barely arrived at work on time, Quatre soon found himself overwhelmed with the usual load of Monday mail, and he was so busy calling Callie and dumping and sorting catalogs and parcels that he barely had a moment to blink, until it was almost noon.

Callie had made it into the office quickly, once he reached her, and she was packing up to take the mail out on the route by the time Quatre closed up the office for lunch. But even as he locked the door, he suddenly recalled his date with Trowa. And if that hadn't been enough to jog his memory, finding Trowa waiting out back, his car parked beside Quatre's, would have done the job.

"Oh my God! I almost forgot!" he admitted, rushing over to the tall brunet, who'd straightened and smiled the moment he stepped outside.

Trowa blinked at him, a flicker of disappointment crossing the handsome face.

Quatre impulsively reached out and caught his hand. "Not that I wasn't looking forward to lunch together--" he said hastily. "But this morning was so chaotic--and with Duo in jail and having to call Callie--"

"Whoa! Wait a sec," Trowa cut in, taking both of Quatre's hands in his and giving a little squeeze to get his attention. "What do you mean, Duo's in jail?"

"Ralph and Alex came this morning and took him in for questioning," Quatre said with a scowl. "Idiots! They think he had something to do with Solo's death."

"Duo?" Trowa echoed incredulously. "The guy who just about decked Heero for even implying he'd be a suspect?" He shook his head. "No way. I don't know Duo that well, but he's way too nice to be a murderer."

Quatre smiled up at him, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he said warmly.

Trowa raised an eyebrow and smirked. "For what?"

"For believing in Duo." Quatre gave a little shrug. "Sometimes it seems like I'm the only one who does."

"You aren't," Trowa assured him. "For what it's worth, Heero and I do, too."

Quatre realized they were standing in plain sight of the road holding hands, and reluctantly disentangled them, tucking his in his pockets self-consciously. "Um--I kind of have to make some phone calls during my lunch break. Long distance, so I couldn't do it from work." He looked up shyly. "Could we take a rain check on lunch?"

"Of course," Trowa agreed, squelching his disappointment by basking in the grateful look that graced Quatre's face. "Is there something I can do to help?"

Quatre smiled charmingly. "Just being so understanding is a big help. Duo's my best friend, and I really need to look out for him."

"It's easy to understand. I'd do the same for Heero."

The blonde resisted the urge to grin like an idiot. Trowa and Heero were best friends. Not lovers. Not a couple. Or Trowa wouldn't be here being sweet and supportive, and completely understanding the need to have a friend's back in a tight spot.

Trowa cocked his head to one side, as if deep in thought. "You think you'll have time to eat, in between phone calls?"

"I can throw something together I suppose. I'll probably be on hold most of the time. My sister's law office is usually pretty busy--"

Trowa frowned in concern. "Duo needs a lawyer? They're that serious about making him a suspect?"

"I'm--not sure," Quatre admitted. "Duo told me not to bother with a lawyer. He said he could handle them. But I haven't heard from him, and I'm worried."

"Look," Trowa said soothingly. "Why don't you go home and call your sister--let her calm your fears? She'll probably tell you there's nothing to worry about. Meanwhile, I'll go to Howie's and pick you up something for lunch. I can drop it by your house, or bring it here for when you get back from your break."

"You'd do that?"

Trowa smiled warmly. "In a heartbeat. It's not as nice as it would've been to spend time with you--but at least I can make sure you get fed."

"That's really sweet," Quatre replied. He glanced down at his watch. "I get back right at two-thirty, if you're sure it's not too much trouble--?"

"Not at all. What can I get for you?"

"I really like Hilde's chicken salad sandwiches," Quatre told him.

"And something to drink?" asked the auburn-haired man, his tone a bit teasing.

"Green tea with a little bit of honey."

"Dessert?" Trowa offered, letting his voice slip a bit lower as if to suggest something a bit decadent.

"Maybe one of those little yogurt cups with the fruit and crunchy stuff on top?"

"You got it," Trowa said with a smile.

"Thank you so much," Quatre sighed. "You don't know how much I appreciate this."

"Hey--you helped me with the journals. Bringing you a little sustenance when you're having a family crisis is the least I can do--"

"Yes, but all I was able to tell you was that the water-soaked pages are beyond my skills," Quatre said with a frown. "I put in a call to my friend Rashid--the one who works at the museum--but then all this with Duo came up, and I haven't followed through on it."

"There's no hurry. The journals aren't going anywhere. I'm just hoping there might be a clue in them about the murder--maybe that Dekim saw something unusual he made note of. And even if there's not, I'm curious about my ancestors and the history of the farm."

"Me, too," Quatre assured him. "And as soon as we get things back on track for Duo, I'm going to set up that meeting with Rashid, so we can find out how much he can recover from your books."

"Speaking of Duo--" Trowa reached out and tapped the watch face Quatre had looked at. "Don't you have calls to make?"

"Oh, yes!" Quatre smiled shyly. "Guess I'm enjoying talking to you too much."

"Likewise. See you in a couple of hours?"

"Yes. And thanks!"

They parted company, and Quatre practically hummed along with the radio as he drove home. He felt much less alone all of a sudden, and it made all the difference in the world.

~*~

Heero frowned into the empty mailbox, thinking it odd that Duo hadn't been by there already. Usually he was much earlier than this, and even on bad days, he never came after four--except that one time he'd had a flat tire.

He checked his watch again. "Four-fifteen?" His hand dropped to Thor's head and idly scratched the shaggy brow. "Your biscuit buddy's late," he noted.

The dog wagged his tail slowly, and sniffed at the bushes.

Heero looked up and down the narrow road, and listened for the rather noisy engine of the Jeep, but heard only the faint breeze rustling through the leaves, and the twitter of some birds. Then he gave a frustrated huff, trying to decide if his disappointment was from not having the mail on time, or not getting a chance to see the good-looking mailman.

Thor nudged his elbow.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm an impossible sap, aren't I?" Heero sighed. "Yes, I was hoping to see him. There, I admitted it! Happy?"

He turned back towards the house, figuring he could get the mail on his way out to do the grocery shopping--assuming Trowa ever got back from his lunch date.

"He's late, too," he told the shaggy dog. "I could've sworn he said something about a two-hour lunch break." He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Unless he sweet-talked Quatre into taking the afternoon off--"

That'd be just like him, the lucky bastard.

Just then, Thor let out a welcoming bark and tugged on the leash, pulling him back towards the mailbox.

An unfamiliar truck was chugging up the road, and when it stopped at the end of the driveway, Heero frowned, walking closer.

"Oh, hello!" said the driver, a young brown-haired woman.

"Where's Duo?" Heero asked, mentally cringing right afterwards. It sounded so accusing--as if he were blaming the girl for not being his regular letter carrier.

She made a slight face. "He--he's off today."

Heero frowned at her evasive tone. "Is he sick?" he pressed, wondering if Duo was still reacting to the news of Solo's death.

"Not--exactly." She handed Heero the mail, and then lowered her voice as if they might be overheard. "The police came for him this morning, and Mister Winner had to call me in to cover the route. I'm the substitute carrier."

"The police?"

"Yes. Quatre seemed pretty concerned when I got there." She gave a little shrug. "I'm not sure what Duo was arrested for, but the boss asked if I'd be available tomorrow too--just in case."

"Fuck." Heero nearly clapped a hand over his own mouth, shocked that he'd blurted that out.

But the girl didn't seem to have heard. Instead, she prattled blithely on. "I offered to work the whole week, if Duo's in real trouble. I'd heard something about there being some sort of investigation up this way--something about a skeleton someone found--but I never imagined it'd involve him. I mean, he's cute and all, if kind of an airhead; but I never thought he was capable of murder--"

"Who said anything about a murder?" Heero demanded.

"Oh, nobody really. I just overheard a rumor at the coffee shop."

Heero scowled so darkly the girl blinked in surprise. "I'd suggest you not repeat those kinds of rumors," he said icily. "They rarely turn out to be true, and they make you sound rather foolish. Good day."

He turned on his heel and gave a firm yank on the leash, bringing Thor trotting after him.

Goddamnit! Duo was in serious trouble now, and Heero was sorry he hadn't immediately stepped into the investigation. When he'd gone over the missing persons report a couple more times, it had seemed fairly evident that Duo wasn't the killer. The officer who'd taken the statement made derogatory notes about how distraught he'd been. Plus, he'd been all of fifteen at the time. Heero didn't know many fifteen-year-olds who had the sheer balls to kill a lover, hide the body, and then play the part of an abandoned and confused boyfriend.

Not that it wasn't an outside possibility. There were plenty of seriously deranged murderers out there who'd started at an early age. But all of Heero's instincts told him Duo wasn't that type.

If he could trust his instincts any more.

Those same instincts had sent him running down that alley the night the little girl died.

"Fucking Hell!" Heero spat, breaking into a steady jog towards the house, wanting to get Thor home and drive down to the police station before he talked himself out of helping Duo. As Chang had said, he had to stop second-guessing every move he made. He was a damned good detective, and he had to remember that, and learn to trust his abilities again.

By the time Trowa pulled into the driveway, a mere fifteen minutes later, Heero had spoken to Une and was standing on the porch rocking from his heels to his toes and back again, fuming with impatience.

"What kept you?" he growled, stalking down the walkway to meet his brother. "I expected you home by three."

"I would've been, but we had a change of plans."

"It's four-thirty!" Heero snapped. "You should have called."

"Well, I tried--but you didn't answer the house phone, and I didn't even try the cell, knowing the reception is crap out here--"

"Next time leave a message!" came a sharp response.

Trowa looked at him in surprise. "Were you worried? Jeeze, I didn't know I had a curfew--"

"You don't. I need the car," Heero said curtly, holding out a hand for the keys.

"Where's the fire?" Trowa asked, dropping them into the waiting palm.

"At the Smoky Hills police station," Heero replied, sliding behind the wheel.

Trowa's face lit up with realization. "How'd you hear about Duo?"

"His substitute letter carrier has a big mouth."

"So does his boss--not that I'm complaining. I got to play the knight in shining armor and bring him lunch at the office. That's why I'm late-- Hey!" Trowa stepped hastily back as Heero slammed the car door and turned on the engine. "Does this mean you're taking over the investigation?"

"If that's what it takes to get Duo out of jail--yes." Heero threw the car into gear and headed down the driveway, leaving Trowa standing with a bemused expression on his face.

"Well--guess I'll just go rest my knee a bit, shall I?" he asked no one in particular, realizing that all the running around actually had made it a bit sore. He shook his head. "Why do I get the feeling things are finally going to get interesting around here?"

TBC...