Two – 2009

March 19th 2009

"We got an ID on our vic, Mac." Stella poked her head around his office door, giving him a small smile. He nodded and shot up from his desk, following her across the lab. Danny had pulled a mug shot of their victim up on the screen.

"Emma Kranz, born 1982. Been married to Jason Kranz for two years… she's on our system because she was involved in a fatal car accident two years ago, but all charges were cleared."

Stella looked at the woman on screen, staring blankly at the camera. Emma Kranz had clearly been a pretty girl, but neither of the ways Stella had seen her – lying stone dead on the floor and glaring at the camera in her mug shot – really emphasised that. She had long dark curly hair and big brown eyes, and her face was in perfect proportion. Stella felt a pang as she thought of how heavily pregnant she'd been. Who could shoot a defenceless pregnant woman through the forehead in cold blood?

Adam walked into the room. "I'm running the scrapings from under the vic's nails through CODIS, but I don't think we have enough for a match… there are no other prints on the victim's belongings, and Lindsay's running trace evidence from the soles of her shoes."

"Thanks, Adam." Stella said, turning curiously to Mac, who was still staring at the screen. "You ok?" she questioned gently.

"She looks… strangely familiar, though I don't think I've ever seen her before." He muttered, the furrow in his brow deepening. "She must just have one of those faces…"

But Stella wasn't convinced. Mac looked distracted as he watched Danny scroll through the data they'd brought up on Emma Kranz.

"Says here she lives in Lower Manhattan… Stella, call Flack and get down to her apartment to see her husband…"

Stella nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. Telling a family member about their loved one's passing was never easy, but to tell someone that he'd lost his wife and unborn child in the same moment? That was cruel. Once, Flack would have spoken to the family himself, but now, although she was taking him with her, there was no way she was going to make him say anything.

It still hurt them all, at times, but although it had been nearly six months since Detective Angell's death, Flack hadn't come out of the silence and solemnity that had haunted him since the day she was shot. She'd had a few sparse conversations with Mac about it, but the Flack they'd used to know, joking, smiling, always on hand with a dark comment to make everyone laugh… that Flack had disappeared. She knew that the hardest moments for him were telling the families of the victims what had happened, and subtly Mac had been making excuses for one of his team to accompany Flack on whatever home visits they could, if only so they could step in if it was getting too hard.

But today, with this case already stinging Stella, Flack by her side could simply make it too horrible to work properly. She gave Mac a long look, trying to convey that thought, but he had already turned back to look at the photo of Emma Kranz, still staring with that confused look on his face, still trying to place her, though pretending he wasn't. She shrugged the thought off that Mac wasn't telling her everything, and turned to leave the lab.

Flack was his usual quiet self in the car, and to every one of Stella's attempts at conversation he would give short, listless answers. She felt a sudden rush of sadness, remembering every quirky comment and sarcastic remark the Flack she knew would have come out with at almost every moment of her forced small talk. But as it was, they drew up at Emma Kranz and her husband's house; nothing had really been said of any much substance between them.

Jason Kranz, when he opened the door, seemed unaware that anything could possibly be wrong. He looked like he had just got out of bed, and smiled at the pair of them.

"Can I help you?"

Stella flashed her badge, "May we come in, Mr Kranz? We have some bad news."
He frowned at them. "Did you find my car? I reported it stolen over a year ago and never heard anything back about it…"

Stella shook her head, Flack closing the door behind them.

"I'm afraid we've found your wife, Mr Kranz." She said slowly, "We have reason to believe she was murdered."

Jason Kranz blinked at them for a second, and then shook his head. "You've made a mistake." He said, clearly, almost loudly. "You've got the wrong person."

Stella shook her head sadly. "When did you last see your wife, Mr Kranz?"

He shook his head again. "Jason, please, this is all so serious… only a couple of days ago… she went to stay with her parents in Philadelphia I thought… you've got the wrong person, Emma's just fine… she's in Philly…"

Flack put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "I know this is hard to take in right now." He said slowly, and his voice was quiet, but surprisingly strong. "And I know this hurts… but we need to know everything we can to try and find your wife's killer…"

Jason staggered backwards, sinking into an armchair, an expression of shock on his face. Stella pretended not to notice the pain that lingered in Flack's face as the pair of them took the opposite arm chairs.

"You're sure it's her?" he whispered, looking down at his clasped hands, and then across to a display of framed photos on the side-table.

Stella nodded slowly. "We're very sorry for your loss, Jason, but we need to know everything about the last time you saw your wife."

He shrugged his shoulders, as if he was at a loss with the world. "She… I… we were having a baby." He whispered, "Really soon… we just… we just had some stupid little argument…"

"Argument?" Stella raised her eyebrows. Jason nodded.

"About whether she was going to go back to work after the baby was born… she wanted to go straight back… she's in advertising… but I thought it might be better if she was a stay-at-home Mom… it just got blown out of proportion, that's all…"

"When was this?" Flack asked, and Jason looked down at his hands again.

"Three days ago. She told me she was going to stay with her parents for a week or two, get things straight in her head…"

Stella was alerted to her cell phone buzzing in her pocket. Checking the caller ID, she sighed, looked towards Flack questioningly. He nodded slowly.

She ducked out of the room, answering Mac's call.

"Bonasera."

"Stella… we've had reports of a domestic incident in Emma Kranz's apartment in November… it would be worth you and Flack checking with the neighbours after you've spoken to the husband… you met him yet?"

"Talking to him now… he doesn't really seem the type…"

"It was a mild report, not taken too seriously when both Emma and Jason denied it, and appeared to have no physical injuries… the report came from a Jonathan Vaugn, who lives below the pair of them…"

"Right, I'll check it out. Mac, I should get back in there with Flack…"

She could almost see her friend and boss' face grow grave. "See you later, Stella."

"Bye."

Walking back through into the other room, the first thing she noted was that Jason's eyes were now full of tears.

"I can't tell you anything else… it was just a stupid argument… we were happy… we would have sorted it out, y'know?"

She sat on the chair opposite him, and clasped her hands together.

"You ever hit Emma, Mr Kranz?"

The young man frowned. "I would never hurt her. She was… she was having my baby… she was the love of my life…"

"I've been informed of a domestic report filed against the pair of you a few months back… what happened?"

Jason shook his head, almost bitterly. "That… that was that crazy old man downstairs…. Joe, maybe? He heard us shouting… we were arguing about whose family to go to for Christmas… and he filed a flaming report."

Stella nodded slowly, watching the tears spill down Jason Kranz's cheeks. She didn't think he was capable of murdering his wife, but she had been wrong about people before.

As they stood up to leave, she looked over at the photo display on the sidetable. There was one shot, a black and white photo of two women, one of them still a teenager, one probably in her early twenties. The younger woman was the spitting image of Emma Kranz.

"Who's this?" Stella asked, suddenly remembering Mac's distracted expression and admittance he recognised the photo of their victim.

"That's Emma's mother, and her Aunt Mary, when they were younger." Jason said, "It was horrible… Emma never knew her aunt… she was murdered in Philadelphia when she was eight months pregnant… her boyfriend, they said, did it… she was only seventeen. He shot her in the head."

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