"Docket ending 2273- State of Massachusetts versus Justin Timberlake and Veronica Mason." The bailiff calls out and immediately, four figures rise from their seats in the back of the courtroom.

Once the four attorney's take their places, a door to the side of the judge's bench opens slowly. An officer steps through the door and turns, beckoning the person behind him forward.

Veronica takes a tentative step into the courtroom, the lights causing her orange jumpsuit to appear brighter than it actually is. She shuffles forward awkwardly, her hands and feet bound together.

Justin follows suit and within minutes, they're standing next to their lawyers.

"Charges?" The judge calls out.

"27 counts of murder in the first degree."

"Mr. Crawford, Ms. Hill... how do your clients plead?"

"Not guilty, your honor." Anna Hill nods slowly, her face nothing but confidant.

"The people ask for remand, your honor." Carla Novak's voice echoes throughout the room, the only sound following it that of Richard Crawford chuckling softly.

"Something to add, Mr. Crawford?"

"Yes, your honor. I'd like to request bail. Ms. Novak doesn't have near enough evidence to hold either of my clients."

"Blood belonging to several different victims was found in both of their homes, as well as the trunk of Ms. Mason's car, and we're still working to complete our investigation. They’re both flight risks. They have numerous passports under different ID's. They could get out of the country before anyone realized they were gone."

"I'll be more than happy to surrender all passports, and both of my clients have agreed to house arrest, your honor."

"Is that enough Ms. Novak?"

Carla narrows her eyes at Richard before turning back to the judge. "It's sufficient."

"Mr. Timberlake and Ms. Mason will surrender all passports and be required to wear monitoring devices until their trial. Bail is set at 50,000, each." The gavel comes down with a loud crack and people begin filing out of the courtroom rapidly.

Veronica and Justin are ushered back through the same door, leaving their lawyers to gloat over their small victory.

"They'll take off Richard... you have to know that." Carla sighs irritably. "Even if they were innocent, they'd still flee."

"That's where you're wrong." Richard smirks. "They are innocent, and they're not going anywhere."

"We'll see." Carla mutters. "See you at trial."

"You'll be seeing us before that." Anna chuckles and shakes her head. "We've got several motions to file, including a dismissal."

"Good luck with that. They're guilty as hell and I'm going to make damn sure the entire world knows it." Carla turns and heads out into the hallway, not bothering to look back.

To her core, she knows they're guilty and she knows that once the investigation is complete, she'll have more than enough to convict both of them.

Unfortunately, all she can do is pray that Carter and Flannery find their smoking gun before Crawford is able to turn things in his favor.

***************

"These just came from a search of Timberlake’s house." Carter announces as he and Flannery enter the office, each of them carrying a large box.

Carla and Anderson exchange curious glances before turning their attention to the two detectives. This has to be something good. It's always been a silent agreement that no cop sets a foot in this office unless they've got a damn good reason to.

"Not as much as we hoped for, but it ties them to at least 15 of our victims." The four of them begin to rifle through the boxes, a slight feeling of disgust and sadness filling the room.

Kristen Wallace's high school ring.

Matthew Hall's wallet.

Jeremy and Beth Porter's wedding rings.

The list could go on for days, and all four of them can match each item to a different victim, from memory alone.

Items that, under normal circumstances, would be utterly meaningless to their new owners. However, in this case, they each stand for something sinister, something so dark and twisted, any normal person would be sick just thinking about it.

Sadly, the four people in the small office are jaded enough to not bat an eye. Sure, they can appreciate the horror behind the crimes, but years of experience have taught them to be objective, to keep their emotions and personal thoughts in check.

It's a pathetic existence, at the end of the day. But, it serves it's purpose.

They've all sacrificed their families, their time, even pieces of themselves and their sanity, but they all firmly believe it's worth it. They help keep the bad guys off the streets, that's gotta count for something, right?

"So, this is it, right? This is all we need?" Flannery asks hopefully.

His youth and inexperience have given him one luxury the other three lost long ago. Optimism.

"Not exactly." Anderson sighs, easing into the chair behind his large oak desk. "A murder weapon would help things along."

"Oh come off of it." Carter scoffs and rolls his eyes. "You honestly think that during a four year murder spree, they used the same damn weapon? We've got a double digit body count Anderson!"

"There is knife work in every case." Carla nods slowly, piecing Anderson's theory together in her head. "I'm sure if we tested it, the wounds would match. I'll put a call into the lab, if they can match at least two of them, we can get another warrant to search the property. I'd suggest you two start rounding up witnesses. We'll be needing them."

The four smile grimly at each other as the detectives turn to leave, the same thought on each of their minds.

Even with the vast amounts of evidence they've gathered, without a murder weapon, it doesn‘t mean a thing.

****************

"Plenty of people match their descriptions. It's a case of mistaken identity, if you ask me." Anna sighs, combing through the stack of paperwork in front of her.

"Too simple." Richard mutters, hunched over his desk. "We're dealing with a corrupt, prejudiced police department."

"How so?"

"Veronica and Justin are both from very wealthy families. They've attended the best schools, driven the nicest cars, had the very best of the best since birth. Carter grew up in squalor with an absent father and junkie mother. Flannery's an army brat. Veronica and Justin have the lives they never had a chance at, and with no leads on any of their cases, they went after the first two innocent people who matched their profile."

"So, it isn't the department... it's the detectives." Anna nods in understanding. "But will the jury buy it?"

"No doubt in my mind." Richard smiles confidently. "All we have to do is put Carter on the stand. He'll put his foot in his own mouth, one way or another."

Anna nods slowly as her male counterpart exit’s the office, leaving her to finish up their paperwork.

She’s done the research, she knows the file front to back, but something about the entire case doesn’t sit well with her.

She’s settled for the desk work, while Richard has spent countless hours interviewing their clients. She can only figure that her unfamiliarity with her clients is what’s left her so anxious.

She’s seen the papers. She knows exactly what the world thinks of them, what they think of her.

When she graduated from Stanford Law, she had dreams of being one of the good guys. She wanted to play for the same team as Novak and Harris, and did for some time. But it all changed when she sent an innocent man to death row.

Suddenly, the lines of justice were blurred, and she vowed to never make the same mistake again. That promise landed her in the office of Richard Crawford, where she swore to defend the lowest of the low.

Murderers, rapists, child molesters, thieves, drug addicts. They’ve all paraded through this office, and she’s forced herself to believe in the innocence of each and every one of them.

It wasn’t hard to do when she looked at the facts. 90 percent of their past cases had plenty of room for reasonable doubt, but this time… it’s different.

This time, there’s plenty of evidence stacked against the accused, and she can’t help feeling as though she’s fighting a losing battle.

Or maybe…. Maybe this time, she and Richard are wrong. Maybe this time, there’s just no possible to way to defend their clients.

Maybe, they really are as guilty as they seem.

z88;

*****************************

“We’re on the news again.” Veronica sighs as she flips channels, enjoying the way the images seem to blur the quicker she goes from station to station. “All four networks.”

The only constant she can see in the flashes of color on the screen are Justin’s face and her own. Photos from the happy and not so happy moments of their lives.

Family photos from their childhoods, prom and senior pictures. The two of them at various events and charities.

She’d never say it out loud, but she misses that existence, where they rubbed elbows with folks of equal wealth and stature. Before they were criminals.

“Anything good?” Justin asks as he eases down on the couch next to her. For a second, her eyes land on the black band wrapped around his ankle and she frowns.

Some days, she has to convince even herself that they weren’t always like this. They were good people, they had every thing they ever could have dreamed of. But somehow, it was never enough.

Justin became obsessed with outshining his father. Sure, he could have done it the respectable way, left college and gone into the family business. He’d always shown a talent for real estate development, just like the elder Timberlake.

However, Justin didn’t want to be another drone in the long line of Timberlake Incorporated. He wanted something bigger and better for himself.

How they ended up here, she still isn’t sure.

The first murder was an accident, really. Completely spontaneous and messy.

Veronica thought the two of them were in Oregon for no particular reason. Just another excuse to blow a little trust fund money, and get away from the hustle and bustle of their day to day routines.

Justin, however, had a specific plan for that trip. He’d gotten a tip from a friend on some land for sale, and had every intention of buying it up, and selling it to a high priced hotel chain. It was supposed to be his first big buy on his own.

She can’t clearly remember exactly why it spiraled so far out of control.

They’d stopped at a bar. Some hole in the wall joint, frequented only by the locals. She was well aware of Justin eyeing the blonde making drinks behind the bar, but refused to make a scene.

After two years with him, she’d learned to bite her tongue at the time. He was going to cheat, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. She could beg him to stop, threaten to leave him, but deep down… she knew he never would.

She’d been told far too many times that her obsession with him wasn’t healthy. He’d become the most lethal type of drug to her, and no matter what happened, she couldn’t give him up.

She knew the second they returned to their hotel, he’d be gone in a matter of minutes to meet the blonde. There was no way around it.

She didn’t know the woman, had never seen her before, and probably never would again, but that didn’t stop the intense hatred she felt toward her. She visualized killing the woman a thousand times over.

Slitting her throat. Shooting her. It didn’t matter how, as long as it gave her confidence a boost.

But, it was just her imagination running wild. She never could have dreamed it would have become a reality.

She remembers the blonde grabbing her coat as she stopped to chat with some of the patrons, and that’s when Justin tried to make his move.

To this day, she can’t figure out how she managed to stop him.

Veronica frowns at the memory before glancing at Justin. It wasn’t right, she knows that. But, that’s the day everything in their relationship shifted. That was the day she took control.

And on some sick level, she enjoyed it.