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𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙊𝙏𝙏𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙍𝘼 𝙃𝘼𝘿 seen enough episodes of Criminal Minds to know the situation she was currently in was not necessarily a good one. 

A clock ticked over head, but that was all she could hear in the empty office of Sheriff Shoupe. She had been sitting alone for a long time...too long. 

A single day had passed since they lost John B and Sarah, and she had barely had enough time to full register what had happened.

So when she was called into the police station for questioning, Charlotte almost didn't show. She wasn't ready to talk about anything that had happened...not yet. 

But she knew she didn't really have a choice. They weren't asking her to come down, they were telling her. 

When the door finally opened, it revealed Agent Bratcher, Shoupe following behind him. Both of them gave her quick glances as they pulled up two chairs across from her. 

"How you doin', Charlotte?" Shoupe wondered, a greeting smile flickering across his face as he set a can of soda down in front of her. He was playing 'good cop' that much was obvious. 

Shifting in the chair beneath her, Charlotte shrugged. "I've been better."

Bratcher looked down at the file in front of him, giving a small nod. "You're not in trouble, Miss. Carrera. We just want to ask you some questions."

Being interrogated was something Charlotte never thought she would go through. But this summer was full of surprises, wasn't it?

"You're not being interrogated. We want to make that clear." Shoupe assured, as if reading Charlotte's mind. "Just a couple of things we need to clear up."

She crossed her arms across her chest, quirking a brow. "I told you John B didn't kill anyone. I don't know what else you want from me."

Bratcher looked down at the file again. "What was the nature of your relationship with John Booker Routeldge?"

Charlotte's eyes flickered toward Shoupe. He knew all of this. Why the hell were they asking her?

"He's─" She cut herself off for a moment, pushing down the lump that had formed in her throat. "─was─ one of my best friends."

Nodding, Bratcher continued. "How long have you known him?"

"Since we were kids. I can't remember exactly how old we were when we met."

"And has your relationship ever been sexual?"

At this question, Charlotte felt her jaw drop as she looked over to Shoupe. "Shoupe, is this guy serious?"

The deputy-turned sheriff - gave her a pleading look. "Just answer the question, Charlotte."

Gritting her teeth, she glared at Bratcher. "No. Never. Not even close."

Bratcher regarded her for a moment, as if trying to decide if she was lying. When he seem satisfied with her answer, he resumed. "Were you at the airstrip the day Sheriff Peterkin was murdered?"

She thought about lying, but figured it would only make things worse. "I was for a bit." She confirmed. "But not when she was killed."

"Where'd you go?"

"I had to go to work." She answered calmly. She left out the part where they ran because they didn't want to get arrested. They didn't need to know that detail. 

"Who was at the airstrip when you left?" Bratcher pressed, his voice unnervingly calm. 

"Ward Cameron, Sarah Cameron, and..." she trailed off for a moment, meeting the expectant eyes of the SBI agent. "And John B."

"No one else?"

"Not when I was there. No."

He nodded thoughtfully, as if her words were providing him with some sort of epiphany─Charlotte was sure they were not. 

"Tell me, Miss Carrera, how do you know Ward Cameron?" Bratcher moved on from John B, and Charlotte couldn't tell whether to be grateful or fearful for that. 

Her eyes flickered to Shoupe again, very well knowing that he knew all of these answers. Her throat was beginning to feel thick as she swallowed hard. "I used to date his son." She finally answered. 

"Rafe Cameron?" Bratcher confirmed. 

"Yes." 

Charlotte's voice now sounded gravelly as she spoke. 

Bratcher kept his eyes on her. "Was it serious?"

"Yes." Charlotte said again. "We dated for five years."

"Why'd you break up?"

A nervous laugh flew from Charlotte's lips. "That's kind of personal, don't you think?"

Conceding, Bratcher moved on. "Did you see Rafe Cameron the day of the murder? Rumour has it he had been staying with you. "

Her hands were sweating at this point. This was starting to feel an awful lot like an interrogation. "Should I have a lawyer here?" She wondered, suddenly feeling too exposed for her own liking. 

Bratcher's face barely even twitched. "If you would like one we can certainly get you one."

"We're not looking to get you in trouble." Shoupe reaffirmed. "I promise, Charlotte."

Weighing her options, Charlotte determined that getting a lawyer would only make her seem more suspicious. "He wasn't staying with me anymore, so I didn't see him until later that night." Her answered was aimed toward Bratcher's earlier questioned. 

If he was relieved she was still talking, Bratcher didn't show it. "And how did he seem?"

"Honestly?" Charlotte breathed. "He seemed stressed out─more than usual. So did his dad." She paused for a moment, trying to decide if she was going to say what she really wanted  to. She was trying to be careful with what she said. Because honestly? She didn't want to get Rafe in trouble. Despite all that he had done.

When she spoke at last, her words were more sure than they had ever been. "Ward Cameron is the reason for Sheriff Peterkin's death and I know that for a fact." 

As far as Charlotte was concerned, it was entirely Ward's fault. He had been the one to push Rafe to his breaking point. He had been the one who ignored his son's repeated cries for help. He had been the one who watched his eldest child fall deeper and deeper into addiction and depression while he did absolutely nothing about it. 

Rafe Cameron fired the shot that killed Peterkin, but Ward Cameron had put the gun there and aimed it.

Shoupe and Bratcher shared a quick look, as if what Charlotte was saying wasn't entirely shocking to them. 

Instead of addressing what Charlotte had just said, Bratcher motioned toward the cut on her head. "What happened to your head?"

She reached up, lightly touching the wound. "I fell." She lied. 

He didn't seem to buy it entirely. "Has Rafe Cameron ever physically hurt you?"

Charlotte's answer was instantaneous. "No. Never."

"Have you ever felt threatened by him?"

This time, her answer didn't come as quickly. Because the truth was, there had been times where Charlotte was scared of Rafe, threatened by what he might do on the days when he was too high to even know his own name. "No." The lie came out with a shaky voice, giving way to her dishonestly. She tried to cover it the best she could. "But I've felt threatened by his father."

She wasn't lying this time. Ward Cameron was a horrible man, and he knew the power he held. 

Bratcher leaned back in the chair slightly, giving Charlotte a small smile. But he was still watching her like he was trying to read her. "Thank you, Miss Carrera. You're free to go. We'll reach out if we have anymore questions."

Shoupe stood, reaching for the door. "I'll walk you out, Charlotte."

Giving Bratcher a final look, Charlotte ducked her head as she followed Shoupe back to the front lobby of the police station where her father was waiting. 

Mike Carrera had fought tooth and nail to be in the room with his daughter during her questioning, but since she was over eighteen, he didn't have that right. Besides, Charlotte didn't want her father hearing everything they were going to ask her. 

As they entered the lobby, Mike stood up, giving his daughter a warm smile. "Go okay?"

Charlotte nodded, her smile not reaching her eyes. "Yeah. All good."

Her father wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as he looked to Shoupe. "She's got nothing to do with any of this. You know that, right?"

Shoupe raised his hands in surrender. "We know that, Mike. Just wanted to pick her brain on a couple of things."

As her father and Shoupe continued in conversation, Charlotte felt her eyes wander toward the front door of the station that was in the process of opening. 

With the warm August air, came the last person she wanted to see right now. Heart plummeting in her chest, Charlotte attempted to hide behind her father. 

Ward Cameron and his lawyer came sauntering in, his eyes immediately zeroing in on Charlotte, her attempt at hiding proving unsuccessful. "You spreadin' lies about my family?" He accused, aggressively pointing his finger in her direction.  Guess he realized who's side she was on. "Don't you listen to a damn thing she says, Shoupe. Rafe broke her heart...you know that, right? She'll say anything to get back at him for that."

Charlotte's face crumpled in shock at Ward's words. He was lying. 

She opened her mouth to tell him just that, but her father cut her to the chase. "Don't you dare speak to her like that." He spat, moving so he was in between Charlotte and Ward. 

Ward let out a humourless laugh. "You must be proud of your kids, Mike. Both your girls runnin' around with murderers and thieves."

In hindsight, the lobby of the police station was maybe not the best place for Mike Carrera to swing at Ward Cameron, but that he did. 

His fist came in contact with the Ward's face before Shoupe could intersect. Ward stumbled backward as Shoupe and a nearby officer grabbed a hold of Mike. 

Charlotte stood wide-eyed, trying to fight the smile that was itching to spread across her face. 

Her father was truly her hero. 

"Get out of here, Mike." Shoupe ordered, already shoving him toward the door. "We ain't doin' this today."

"You're going to regret that!" Ward yelled as Mike was pushed out the front door. 

Still frozen, Charlotte watched as Ward held onto his cheek, letting out quiet curses. When she finally found her feet, Charlotte hurried past him, no longer wanting to be in his war path. 

The battle had truly begun. 

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