Hey guys, I know it's been a long while, and I haven't updated anything, but I've got a few chapters written for this story, and now that summer is here I've got more time. So I hope you enjoy it.
Also, this had nothing to do with my other Kylie/Adam story, it's totally different. The only thing that is the same is DiNozzo and Adam. hope you enjoy, and sorry I haven't been updating lately.
The sight in front of him was sick. He never thought he'd ever see something like this. A woman lie in front of him, her eyes wide open, begging for help, screaming to him to find the man that killed her. Her left arm was lying by her side, her right lie over her stomach, and as if dumping them in Central Park wasn't enough, this guy had to humiliate them by dumping them completely naked. He wanted to cover the body with a blanket so pedestrians couldn't see her, but Hawkes told him not to. It could compromise any evidence. But Flack was done with these serial cases. He wanted to catch the asshole doing this so he could finally sleep at night. The way people could kill others like this never stopped surprising him.
And as Mac crawled under the yellow crime scene tape, he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Mac was the best man for a job like this. He wouldn't rest until he found out who was killing these women, and he wasn't going to give them mercy when he found them.
The two detectives had butted heads in the past, but Flack still had nothing but respect for the older man. He stuck with what he felt was right, and he didn't put up with shit. He wasn't afraid to stand up to his superiors if he felt they were making a mistake, and he wasn't afraid to do what he thought was right. He rarely let emotions cloud his judgment. He was someone Flack admired.
"What have we got?" Mac asked, setting his forensic kit on the ground.
Flack glanced at him, and noticed he was in the same clothes as the day before. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, as he watched Mac glance at the body.
"Mac? Are those the same clothes from yesterday?" Flack asked, flipping his notepad shut.
Mac ignored Flack's comment, and leaned over the woman. "Does she have a name?"
"Robin Fredrick. Just like all the others, an unanimous call was made on the pay phone, I've got thirty different witness statements, thirty different scenarios of what happened. Save for one, I don't think any are reliable."
"Who is that?" Mac asked.
"Marie Campbell. She says she was taking a run in the park when she bumped into a man carrying a large trash bag. Says she offered him help but he cussed her out before carrying on."
"Do you think he could target her next if he thinks she's a threat?" Sheldon asked.
"It's possible," Mac replied. "Especially if he's watching right now," he turned around and glanced at his surroundings.
"You think he'd really come back?" Flack asked, scrunching his face in disgust.
"I don't know," Mac sighed.
A woman with long black, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes strolled under the crime scene tape, and approached the men.
Flack's jaw dropped when he saw her, crime scene kit in hand. He hadn't heard from his little sister in a few months, and the last she told him she was still in DC with that DiNozzo guy. They had a little boy together, and apparently were supposed to be getting married. So why in the fuck is she here? He thought, as she set her kit next to Mac's, and smiled at him.
"Hey, Donnie," Kylie Flack smiled. She held out her arms, and embraced Flack in a hug. Though she was only 5'4, and he was 6'1, the two looked a spitting image of each other.
They both had the same wavy dark hair, and the same blue eyes that could get them whatever they wanted. The Flacks were gorgeous, all five of them. Samantha, Kylie, Don, Chris and Jason all had their mother's looks. They had lucked out, and got their looks from their mother, but their smart-ass, non-tolerance attitude from their father.
Poppa Flack was tall and lanky, a trait Don inherited. He also grayed at a young age like his son was starting to.
Kylie Flack had her mother's short height and bitchy attitude, along with her chatty mouth, and her father's sarcasm. It was definitely not the best mix for her. She had gotten into trouble many times because of her sly comments, and she had received an ass whooping plenty of times, mostly from Don, Chris, and Jason. They had always complained she talked too much, but she simply ignored them and would continue to rant about why she was pissed.
But now, Kylie stood in front of Don, a smile on her face, and he couldn't help but smile back. His little sister had finally come to her senses and left the man that had caused her trouble from day one.
"What happened to living in DC?" Flack asked, kissing Kylie's cheek.
"New York is my home," she told him, smiling at Hawkes. "Hi, Kylie Flack. I'm working with you guys now."
Hawkes shook Kylie's hand, "Sheldon Hawkes. Are you a CSI or a homicide detective as well?"
"CSI," she told him.
"Where's Tony and Kaiden?" Flack asked Kylie.
"Tony is in DC, and Kaiden is here. We'll talk about it later. Right now this little angel needs our help, don't you baby?" She squatted in front of the woman and brushed back her blonde waves. "Who would have done something like this to you?" she asked, continuing to talk to the corpse in front of her.
"You and Sid will get along great," Hawkes chuckled, standing up.
"Who's Sid," she asked, snapping a photo of Robin.
"The ME," Mac informed her.
"If he talks to dead people, we'll get along great," she smiled as she watched Hawkes and the EMTs pick up the girl and set her on a gurney.
Kylie then began to follow Mac's lead and started processing the scene. She was excited to be back home, but still upset that she left Washington DC. Though her family lived here, she was on her own. She was a single mother in a city that never slept, that would never stop killing, and no matter how familiar the streets were, how many people she knew, she was scared. She was 28 years old, with a seven-month-old baby, and she was living off a single salary in the most expensive city in the country.
She made a mental note to call the babysitter as soon as she got back to the lab. Her son meant the world to her, and if anything happened to Kaiden Don Flack, she'd be lost.
Adam Ross stood in front of his computer, his headphones securely in his ears, his toes tapping to the beat of the music, his hips swaying to the rhythm of his feet, and Kylie smiled as she watched him work. He was definitely different from the rest of the people she had met so far. He was more on her level, and more her age.
She cleared her throat, and giggled when he jumped. "You scared the crap out of me, Detective Flack," Adam sighed.
"It's Kylie. Hi Adam," Kylie smiled. "We meet again."
"We sure do," Adam blushed.
"So do you have any thing on that blue stuff I gave you?"
"Right," he said, shaking his head, his shaggy hair moving as well. "Uhmm, well I thought it was paint at first, but turns out I was wrong. It's not. Nowhere close to paint, and that was kind of shocking to me because it looked like dried paint almost. But it wasn't, right, it was chalk. Like sidewalk chalk, kid's chalk. But Robin Fredrick doesn't have kids, or so I thought. Maybe she does. Does she work at a day care or something? I wouldn't be able to work at a daycare, kids scare me sometimes. Not just like one or two, but get a shit load of them together, well let's not go into that."
Kylie tried not to laugh at the lab tech as he rambled on about the blue trace she found. "Well thank you," Kylie said. "She could have a niece or nephew. Or maybe it belongs to the killer."
"That's true I never thought about that. Maybe he used to like play with sidewalk chalk and then his mom died or something, so now he's targeting these blonde chicks."
"You watch to many crime shows," Kylie giggled.
"Yeah, I think I do," Adam agreed, plugging his earphones back in.
Kylie turned around, and headed down the hall to find Mac or Hawkes. She wanted to inform them about the chalk. "Hawkes," Kylie smiled, when she saw him.
"Hey," Sheldon replied, stopping beside her.
"Adam said the blue trace we found on Robin is chalk. She doesn't have any children, so I'm thinking it could be from our killer."
"We're looking for a father with kids," Mac said approaching them.
"How'd you know?" Kylie asked.
"Each crime scene has a stuffed animal or toy," Mac replied.
"Could be slow," Kylie suggested. "Adam had a good suggestion. Whoever this guy is, he could be pissed off at his mother, she could have done something during his childhood that messed him up."
"That's another theory," Hawkes replied. "But I think having kids makes more sense."
"Sure it does," Kylie said. "I guess I'm used to the crazy cases in DC. Nothing was ever normal. So we should check preschools and elementary schools and see if there are any single fathers who recently lost their wife, or a girlfriend."
Mac nodded his head. "I'll go have Adam do that," Mac said. "He can hack into the public schools programs. Hawkes, do you mind taking Kylie to the morgue?"
"Not a problem," Hawkes said, smiling at Kylie. "Ready to meet Sid?"
"As ready as I will ever be," Kylie smiled. She followed Hawkes towards the elevator, and watched as he pressed the basement level.
When they stepped off, she could smell the death already. Though she grew used to it while in DC, it was still a fresh smell for her nose, considering she hadn't been to work in eight months, and she couldn't be down there when she was pregnant because the smell made her stomach turn.
"The smell of death," she replied, shivering.
"Don't like it?" Hawkes asked.
"Haven't smelled it in a year," she said, following him to an autopsy table were Robin lay, a gray haired man standing beside her.
"Hello," the man greeted. "You must be the new CSI Mac hired. Nice to meet you, my love. I am Sid Hammerback."
Kylie held her hand out, which Sid gratefully shook. "Kylie Flack."
"I thought you looked familiar. You and Don look alike."
"I get that a lot," she laughed. "So what happened to this little angel face?"
"She was tortured," Sid started. "She has bruises on her wrists and ankles, someone tried to strangle her. The list goes on. Multiple stab wounds to her abdomen."
"Were these carvings made postmortem?" Kylie asked, pointing to the carvings of the letter R all over her body.
"I'm afraid not," Sid sighed, looking at the woman.
Kylie nodded her head, a look of sympathy on her face for the young woman. "Poor Robin," she said, touching her cheek.
Sid explained that Robin Fredrick had been killed by head trauma, and by the looks of things, something small penetrated behind her ear lobe and into her brain, causing instant death. After she had been tortured. It made Kylie sick, the fact someone could do that to a human, let alone someone so sweet and innocent like the blondie now in Sid's care.
Though she hated death, she loved her job. She wanted to help those who couldn't have peace, find their killers. Because it gave their families what little of their dignity they had left, a sense of peace.
She was now roaming the hallway, trying to find a quiet place to call the babysitter, and check on her son. It was the first time she ever left him with someone other than his father, and she'd been freaking out since the second she left the apartment. She hadn't heard from Rosabella, and she didn't know if it was a good thing, or a bad thing.
She sat down in the break room, and pulled out her cell phone, impatiently tapping her foot.
"Ciao," Rosabella's voice came on the other line.
"Hey, Rosabella," Kylie smiled. "How is the baby?"
"He is sleeping, love. He is fine. Do not worry, he can be without his mommy for a bit."
"I know he can," Kylie smiled. "It's me I'm worried about. I haven't left him for more than an hour before."
"You miss your baby," Rosabella smiled.
"I do," Kylie replied. "Did he give you any trouble?"
"None at all, bella. You are forgetting how many children and grandsons I have. I am super nanny."
"You are Rose," Kylie giggled. "I'll let you get to sleep then. Thank you for watching him. It means a lot."
"You're welcome, bella. Te amo."
"Love you too, Rosabella." She hung up the phone, a sigh of relief coming from her breath when she stood up.
She missed her son, there was no doubt about that, and she didn't know how much longer she could go without seeing his smile, or smelling his soft baby skin. She knew she'd be working more than her normal eight hour shift this time around, because there was a serial killer on the loose, and no one was going to rest until the monster was behind bars, or worse.