"You know I got mugged the last time I was in New York," Tony muttered.

"You mentioned that," Jack said. "More than once. You didn't have to come, you know."

Tony ignored him. "Mugged. Me, of all people."

"And you're telling me Los Angeles is safer?"

"Yes."

"Well, Kim invited me, and I've worked hard to repair things with her. It's not like I could say no."

"I know," Tony said. "And I'm happy for you, really. I just wish Kim picked a more civilized place to live, like Chicago."

"Tell me this isn't about the Yankees."

"This isn't about the Yankees. Though they do represent everything that's wrong with New York."

Jack scanned the airport, frowning.

"Where's Kim?" Tony asked.

Jack shook his head. "Not here."

"I thought she was meeting us."

"She was."

"Did you call her?"

Jack nodded. "She's not answering."

"She's probably stuck in traffic or something. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Right."

"She'll be here any minute."

8888888

When the sunlight hit her eyes, Lindsay buried her face under the covers. Danny smiled, stretching out on the bed next to her and slowly poking her nose with one of Mackenzie's tiny fingers. Lindsay's nose wrinkled as she kissed her daughter's small hand.

"Morning Montana," Danny murmured.

"Mmm. Morning," Lindsay said groggily.

Danny sat Mackenzie down on Lindsay's chest and watched as the little girl gave her a sloppy kiss and then started gumming at her chin.

"Want some breakfast?" he asked.

Lindsay nodded. "In bed."

"You do know you're going to have to get up eventually, right?"

"Yes. Eventually. But not now."

Danny padded slowly down the hallway, returning with a plate of pancakes balanced on a tray. He slipped into bed and Lindsay snuggled happily against his chest, Mackenzie between them as she started to eat.

"I was thinking," Lindsay said absently as she ate, "when it gets warm we should take off, drive to the shore. Stick her feet in the ocean.

Danny smiled, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as his fingers combed through her hair. "Sounds nice."

He was back in the kitchen washing off the plate when the phone rang.

"We gotta go Montana," he said as he stepped into the bedroom. "We got a crime scene. I'll drop her off her off at my mother's," he added, lifting Mackenzie up, "and meet you there."

Lindsay kissed the baby and then him. "I love you," she said.

"I love you," he echoed as he headed out the door.

8888888888

"Sorry I'm late," Stella said as she slid into the booth.

Flack shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I've only been here a coupla minutes."

She slid her jacket off as the waitress brought over two coffees. When the woman left, Stella looked across the table and gave Flack a smile. "Thank you."

He shrugged again. "I know you don't function too well without your morning coffee."

She nodded. "So what is this anyway, Flack? I have to admit, I was surprised when you called me."

"Think of it as a…celebratory meal."

"And what exactly are we celebrating?" she asked, taking a sip from her mug.

"You."

"Me?"

Flack nodded. "You busted your ass on the Moretti case, and because of that, we made the bust and got that perv off the streets. You deserve a fuckin' gold medal, Stell…but all I could afford was breakfast."

Stella couldn't help but smile. She opened her mouth to tell him that this wasn't necessary, that she had just been doing her job. But as she met his eyes, she realized that none of those were the right words. So she reached across the table and placed her hand on his, squeezing gently. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Before Flack could respond, his cell phone went off, interrupting the moment. Frowning, he went to answer it, and Stella's phone started to ring at the same time. Both conversations were short, and the detectives were sliding back out of the booth before they had even finished hanging up.

"I still owe you breakfast," Flack muttered as they moved toward the door.

Stella threw a smile back over her shoulder. "And I'll hold you to that," she laughed.

8888888888888888888

"What've we got?" Flack asked as he and Stella walked into the crime scene.

Danny looked up from the pictures he was taking. "Double homicide and a missin' kid."

"Which would explain why we're all working this one," Stella murmured as she saw Lindsay there as well.

"Exactly."

They all turned to see Mac Taylor walking across the room. The shadows under his eyes told them that he had gotten little – if any – sleep before getting the call, and the added weight of a missing child was already wearing him thin.

"So what do we think happened?" Flack asked, pulling out his notebook.

Danny pointed to the one of the bodies on the floor. "It looks like she was killed first…ID in the bedroom says she's a Melissa Gould. Gunshot to the chest, quick, simple. This guy," Danny walked over to the second victim, who was lying facedown on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding him. "This guy seems to have walked into it. From the mess, we think he attacked the perp, and ended up losing."

"C.O.D.?" Stella asked.

Lindsay spoke up. "Blunt force trauma."

"Do we have a murder weapon?"

The younger woman picked something up off the floor. Stella narrowed her eyes as she looked at it.

"What is it?" she finally asked.

Lindsay raised an eyebrow. "A bookend."

"Ouch," Flack whispered. "What about a name? Can we ID the second vic?"

Mac nodded, picking up a plastic evidence bag that was sitting on the coffee table and then handing it to Flack and Stella.

"A former federal agent," he said, his voice putting extra weight on the words. "Agent Chase Edmunds."