Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY.
Series: 'Kindred Spirits'.
Spoilers: One Wedding and a Funeral; You Only Die Once.

One Wedding and a Funeral

Don Flack didn't plead.

At least, he didn't plead without good reason.

So Jess was intrigued when she answered the phone only to hear Don's voice whining – for want of a better word – down the phone.

"Jess …"

"What happened?" Jess asked, replacing the lid on her pen, anticipating that she wouldn't be in the bullpen for much longer.

"I need you here; I can't deal with this much longer."

"Where are you?" Jess prompted.

"Central Park. Bandstand by the lake."

"Alright." Jess sighed, hanging up.

It didn't take her long to get to the crime scene and Jess didn't envy the CSIs having to document it. Several people were being patched up by paramedics, there was what looked like a buffet scattered over the ground and Don was talking to – or attempting to talk to – a woman … in a wedding dress.

Damn it. Jess didn't do weddings or brides or hysterical women. She was ready to run for it when he caught her eye over the woman's head and the relief on his face somehow halted her resolve to leave and she sighed, heading over to them.

"Detective Flack?"

"Detective Angell." Don greeted. "This is Emma Blackstone."

"It should be Emma Dohn." She corrected tearfully, before dissolving into sobs.

Skilfully, Don managed to turn her so she collapsed into Jess's arms instead of his. ""Can you get her statement, Angell; thanks."

Oh, you will pay for this. Jess vowed, leading Emma over to one of the tables that hadn't been knocked over. She couldn't help shivering in the cool wind and wondered how the young bride hadn't frozen yet; it was the middle of November.

Normally, Jess would wait for the witness to tell her otherwise before using a first name, but she had a feeling calling her 'Miss Blackstone' right now was unlikely to help.

"Emma – can I call you Emma?" She asked gently.

Drying her eyes on a napkin, Emma nodded.

"Emma, I know you're upset," Jess continued, "and I don't blame you; I'd probably be in exactly the same state, but I'm going to be completely honest with you: I'm not very good when it comes to crying women."

Emma choked out a laugh. "Me neither. I'm usually the one telling them to get over it."

Jess smiled wryly. "Yeah, same here. What I am good at – and what my partner is even better at …" She hesitated. "Okay, that's debateable, but he's actually on this case, not me …"

That managed to get another small laugh out of her companion.

"But he's just as bad with crying women." Jess shook her head. "Probably why I'm here. Anyway, what we are good at is solving crimes. I promise, Emma; you've got the best on this one. But in order for us to find out who did this, I need you to tell me what happened, okay?"

Emma nodded, taking a deep breath. "Well, I was waiting in the bridal tent for my father and he hadn't arrived yet, so I came out here … everyone was fighting and arguing and … I mean, it's my wedding day! I get they all don't like each other, but couldn't they just shut up and pretend, for our sake?" She looked like she was about to start crying again and Jess grabbed the nearest napkin and pushed it into her hand. "Thanks. I couldn't get them to listen to me so I went to find Brett and … and …"

Jess rubbed her arm soothingly, seeing a woman approaching out of the corner of her eye. The woman could only be Emma's mother; the resemblance was uncanny.

"Detective, my daughter's been through enough." She hissed as soon as she was close enough.

"No!" Emma stopped her from rising. "No, I want to help. I want to know who killed Brett."

Loosening the woman's grip on her arm, Jess smiled softly at her. "We'll find them, Emma. I promise."

Mrs. Blackstone snorted in a rather unladylike way, although whether that was because Jess had just made a promise she might not be able to keep or because she'd used Emma's first name no one knew.

"Did you see anyone suspicious before you found him?" Jess asked gently.

"Anyone related to that man can be considered suspicious, Detective." Mrs. Blackstone stated snootily.

Emma began sobbing again, shaking her head, managing to say something like, "No, I didn't see anyone," and Jess – for all her reluctance to deal with hysterical women – couldn't help placing a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Mrs. Blackstone, it would help if I could talk to your daughter alone." She said pointedly.

Mrs. Blackstone sniffed. "Very well. There are people I need to speak to. I'll be back with your medication, sweetheart."

Jess watched her leave through narrowed eyes. "Okay, let's continue. Did Brett have any enemies … anyone who'd want to hurt him?"

Emma laughed humourlessly. "Aside from my entire family?" Her face drained of all colour. "Oh God … do you think they had something to do with it?"

They don't call them shotgun weddings for nothing. Jess smiled thinly. "Well, I'm sure Detective Flack will get reference samples from everyone to make sure."

"I just … don't know what … I'll do without him …"

This time, it was obvious Emma's weeping wasn't going to subside again for some time, so Jess didn't push with questioning and waited for her mother to return with a tranquiliser.

As it turned out, dealing with a hysterical woman turned out to be the highlight of the week, because, with no case, Jess found herself sitting in one of the reconstruction rooms at the crime lab, helping Adam with a 3D jigsaw puzzle.

"I never liked these when I was a kid." Jess muttered.

"Hey, Jess; what …" Don trailed off, coming to a halt in the doorway. "What are you doing?"

"Didn't we have a conversation like this a few weeks ago?" Jess asked, not looking up. "I think it went something along the lines of: if I look like I'm doing something, chances are, that's probably the answer."

"Why are you doing a jigsaw puzzle?" Don asked.

"See, you do know." Jess picked a piece up and held it against several gaps. "No."

"Didn't answer the question, Jess." Don pointed, coming to stand behind her. His hand brushed against the back of her neck and she momentarily forgot what the question was.

Thankfully, Adam was a little more on the ball. "Someone left a box on Stella's car."

"Yeah?" Don asked, a note of concern in his voice.

"It was a puzzle." Jess assured him, nodding towards the completed jigsaw. "Had a piece missing, which led Lindsay and Stella to a chalk outline of a child, a blood-covered satchel and this."

"Do we think there's a dead child somewhere?" Don asked in a low voice.

"There'd better not be." Jess stated, her voice shaking.

Don squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "Any leads as to what's going on?"

Jess shook her head. "God only knows. Stella's at a loss; none of these buildings mean anything to her and we've got trace evidence from the Alamo, India, redwoods … you name it."

"We did get a hit on the blood though." Adam added. "It's a match to the blood Mac found on the shirt."

"What shirt?" Don asked.

Adam looked up. "He didn't tell you? When Mac finally got his luggage back from JFK, the lock had been changed and he found a bloody child's t-shirt inside."

"Oh, the idiot." Don groaned.

"How's your case?" Jess asked, changing the subject.

"Well, we're still figuring out who killed the groom." Don told her. "We have figured out how he got to the park though."

"He wasn't killed there?" Jess looked up, interest peaked.

Don shook his head. "Apparently he ran out on his last two fiancées and his friends made a bet on whether he'd show up. When the best man got back to the hotel and realised he was dead, he also realised he'd lose the bet, so got him dressed and took him to the wedding."

Jess paused in her actions, giving his words time to sink in, sure she'd misheard him. When she realised she hadn't, she closed her eyes. "Remember when I said I'd seen everything?"

"Yeah?" Don asked, a knowing tone in his voice.

Jess sighed heavily. "I was wrong."

AN: This is probably the last post/update for a while, because I'm moving tomorrow and then I've got Fresher's Fortnight (oh God, kill me now) to deal with. Ah well, review please!