Danny Messer had processed hundreds of crime scenes. Some were unremarkable and rather ordinary – as ordinary as a crime scene could be. Like a routine gunshot wound or strangulation. All of those cases blended together and Danny had difficulty remembering them. Others were more memorable, either because of the strange surroundings, the bizarre cause of death, the creativity of the killer or, unfortunately, the age and circumstances of the victim.
As Danny made his way into his newest crime scene with Mac and Flack he new he would never forget this one. First, the victim was John Waters. His current pop-rock hit was all over the radio but he was more famous for his tabloid-fodder relationship and obligatory sex tape with some Hollywood socialite. Danny had seen the tape and had been unimpressed by everyone involved.
John Waters didn't have to worry about people judging his performance in bed anymore or anything else for that matter. He'd been found in his hotel room by housekeeping shot in the head, the heart and the groin. That was some hell of a message, Danny thought.
"What a mess," Flack said.
"No kidding," Danny replied as he started taking photographs. The body was surrounded by a large pool of blood, which was also splattered around the adjacent furniture.
"Size of the bullet holes indicates the murder weapon was likely a .38 revolver, fired at close range," Mac said, who was also taking inventory of the scene. He knelt down to the body and lifted the torso off the floor to see if the bullet to his heart was a through-and-through. Instead of finding a bullet hole Mac was surprised to see what looked like a tattoo. But Mac recognized the dark symbol marking the victim's left shoulder blade. "Danny, Flack. Look at this." Both detectives made their way around the body to see what Mac was pointing to.
"Shit," Danny said. Flack sighed heavily. Both detectives immediately recognized the symbol and its significance. The three interlocking triangles and four circles had been branded onto five other victims over the past six months - the calling card of a serial killer who was still on the loose. The media had labeled him the 'symbol slayer' and Mac was anxious to catch him.
"The press is going to be all over this. Let's get some officers here to block off the entrance. I don't want anything leaked to the media," Mac instructed.
"I'm on it," Flack said as exited the room.
"Danny, I'm going to page Stella to switch places with you. She's processed all the other slayer crime scenes."
"Come on, Mac. Let me work this." Danny desperately wanted to be part of this action. Cases like this gave him an adrenaline rush - it's what he lived for.
"No, I want Stella on this. And I need you to pick up Lindsay Monroe from the airport."
"Who? What?"
"Lindsay Monroe. She's our new CSI. She's flying in today. Remember?"
"No way, Mac. I'm not giving up this crime scene to play chauffer."
"Danny, I want someone to meet her at the airport and I want Stella here. It's an order."
Danny could continue trying to finagle his way out of it – pleading a heavy work load – but with Mac's tone and cocked eyebrow, Danny knew he was stuck playing babysitter to the new girl. He hadn't even met her yet but Lindsay Monroe was not making a good impression on him.
Danny hated airports – they were too crowded, people were too rushed and too cranky for his taste. The traffic on his way over did nothing to improve his mood. When his speed on the GW had been reduced to a crawl he'd cursed everyone and everything from the new girl he didn't even know to the malfunctioning EZ Pass booth that had caused a huge bottleneck.
He'd arrived late but luckily so had Lindsay's flight. He picked a spot next to a column that offered a clear view of the gate away from the madness of travelers to wait for her arrival.
Even amid a sea of people from all walks of life he spotted the new girl the moment she stepped onto the gate. Her wardrobe hadn't given her away – a simple blue t-shirt tucked into a pair of gray pants, practical black boots – exactly what Mac had described. Danny wasn't expecting her to show up in overalls with a pitchfork but when Mac had told him Lindsay Monroe was from Montana he expected something more…country.
It was that new-girl-in-the-big-city look in her eyes and the slow pace she was making her way down the gate seemingly unaware of the people zipping by her that made her stand out. She didn't have the cool, competent air about her that New Yorkers did.
Instead of moving to greet her he continued to watch her, and to speculate. Mac had not told him anything except where she was coming from and her name. She looked to be about the same age as him. She was attractive, in the cute way. She was tiny, her figure compact but athletic. Her shirt revealed tanned, toned arms and he was sure she had a great pair of legs to match.
Danny wondered what brought her to New York. Leaving behind a bad experience? A change of scenery? Who had she left behind? Family? Boyfriend? Even if she had arrived single, she probably wouldn't have maintained that status for long. Not in a city like this where men could have the single-mindedness of a shark when it came to an attractive female. Not that he was thinking about putting any moves on her. She was pretty but Danny doubted she'd be here long enough for it to matter. At first glance she looked a little too sweet and innocent to survive here – just the type of person New York chewed up and spit out on a daily basis.
Leaning against the column, Danny continued to stare at Lindsay with interest. Then he realized that his stare was being returned. When their eyes met, his heart lurched a little, which he attributed to embarrassment at being caught staring. But he didn't look away. Even with the stream of people passing between them, occasionally blocking their line of sight, they maintained eye contact.
She was the first one to look away, probably also embarrassed for having picked him out of the crowd and being caught. Bothered by his silly reaction to something as insignificant as eye contact, Danny left his post and weaved towards Lindsay.
Lindsay Monroe stifled a yawn as she made her way down the arrival gate. Her excitement about moving to New York had kept her up all night. She'd waited a month month for this and the reality of finally being in the city gave her an indefinable tingle. Requesting the transfer had been one of the scariest and most exciting decisions of her life. She'd wanted a change. Needed it. She'd somehow outgrown her life back in Montana. It no longer satisfied her – not the ranch or her personal life or her work. When she saw the opening in the New York crime lab it seemed like destiny, a chance for a fresh start. Knowing that Mac Taylor hand picked her for the job out of all the candidates made her nervous but she was up for the challenge.
Her impression of her new boss from their two phone conversations was that he was a by the books guy, a bit stiff but she'd sensed a softer side to him when he'd asked her about life on a farm. He'd even offered to have someone pick her up from the airport. He wasn't sure who would be free but asked what she was wearing and told her to keep an eye out for someone at the gate.
That someone appeared to be the man who had caught her eye earlier and was now walking toward her. He was certainly attractive but there was something else about him that got her attention - the way she could tell the color of his eyes and feel their intensity from so far away. The way he looked indifferent and engrossed at the same time, leaning against the column so casually when everyone else around seemed anxious.
"Lindsay Monroe?" he asked, stopping a few feet in front of her.
"Yes." She smiled and held out her hand. His jacket had hidden his badge but she saw it now, clipped to his belt.
"Danny Messer. How ya doin?" The up-close and unobstructed view of Lindsay Monroe proved to be interesting. She had wonderful eyes, he thought. Big, chocolate colored eyes that looked both candid and mysterious at the same time. Right now they were looking at him inquisitively, as if trying to judge him.
"Good. Thanks for picking me up." These accents would be an adjustment, Lindsay realized.
"No problem." Actually, it was a problem seeing that he left an interesting crime scene to do it, but Danny didn't say that.
"I have two suit cases," Lindsay said as she nodded towards baggage claim.
"Right." Danny walked next to Lindsay as they made their way to the conveyor belts. "So, Bozeman, huh?"
"Born and raised."
"Nice area," His notion of Montana came from photos of cows and wheatfields, but he'd said this as if he were actually familiar with the town.
"Yes, it is."
Scintillating conversation, Monroe, Lindsay thought. But her nerves were handicapping her conversation skills – the majority of them caused by the man walking next to her. She could practically see the wheels of his mind turning and she was trying to figure out what he was thinking. Was he cementing his first impression of her? What did he think of her? They reached baggage claim and stood in silence waiting for her suitcases to appear.
"So, where are you staying?" Lindsay was relieved he finally broke the uncomfortable silence.
"With my uncle in Terrytown, until I find a place in Manhattan."
"Interesting."
"How so?" Lindsay asked as she pulled both her suitcases off the belt.
"Oh, nothing. It's just a good thing you have family here."
There was something about his tone that suggested he wasn't totally sincere or concerned for her well-being. "Yeah, good thing."
Lindsay followed Danny as he led the way to his car. "It's a big change, going from Montana to New York."
She wasn't sure if his remark was a statement or question but either way he'd said it condescendingly. He was trying to make a point, she realized - that she couldn't handle this city or this job in this city. His assumption set her temper boiling. Lindsay knew she was replacing Danny's long time partner, Aiden Burn and expected some resistance from him. But he wasn't even giving her a chance to prove herself before deciding she was an incompetent country bumpkin. Danny had certainly shown his true colors, however. He was cocky and selfish and she was not looking forward to working with him. Lindsay remained silent rather than say something she'd regret. Her irritated expression did not go unnoticed.
"I'm just saying, New York crime scenes are on a whole different level than the delinquents you're used to dealing with. I hope you're ready."
"Do you really hope that or do you hope that I fail miserably?" Danny looked surprised at her rebuttal – he probably expected her to crumble under his scrutiny. She knew she was a capable CSI and she wasn't going to let him make her feel otherwise.
Instead of waiting for his reply Lindsay attempted to end their little war of words as they finally reached his car. "Can you just drop me off at the lab? Mac wanted me to report right away."
"Sure thing."
They drove in silence until a traffic jam right outside the airport stopped their progress and Danny unleashed an occasional curse. His blasphemy against his fellow drivers intensified when he saw there was a detour. Lindsay wasn't sure if the detour was wrong or if Danny had gotten them lost but they somehow ended up on a secluded street.
Lindsay was about to suggest asking for directions when she sensed movement out of the corner of her eye; saw someone approaching the passenger door. But before she could react glass shattered, shards flying into her lap. A black gloved hand shot through the broken car window and reached for the handle. Lindsay's shock and horror had prevented her from screaming and delayed her instincts to stop the intruder. Everything was happening too fast. Her heart was banging so violently in her chest she could feel each beat in her head. Before she knew it the door was open and her face covered in a white cloth that smelled horrible. Chloroform, Lindsay terrifyingly recognized. Her eyelids and limbs suddenly felt like lead. She turned to Danny and blurrily saw him struggling with another black-clad figure. She attempted punching and scratching the arms holding her captive. She thought she had landed some decent blows but she never got the chance to find out before everything faded to black.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I am tremendously grateful for mel60 who beta'd this.