Authors Note: So next chapter is up, I hope you guys enjoy it. Huge thanks to Brinchen86, afrozenheart412 and lily moonlight for the reviews, you guys are all awesome!
Chapter 2
Danny left his apartment glancing around him warily as he headed down the street. He saw a couple of Louie's friends hanging about at the end of the road so he sped up his movements hoping to get by unnoticed if he kept his head down and his eyes to himself. It didn't work though, not that he had expected it would.
"Hey Messer," one of the guys shouted. "We're meeting up with your brother to teach a few punks a lesson, you coming with?"
"Not this time, gotta work," Danny replied walking straight passed them and not looking back. It had been a bad move on his young, naive self's part to even getting partly involved with Louie and his gang when he was in high school. It had taken a smack over the back of the head from his uncle and a serious conversation for him to see sense just before his high school graduation. It had been the difference between him working at the pizzeria or being involved in a drive by shooting that left three of the gang members in prison and several dead bodies in its wake. Louie had asked him why he backed out at the last minute and Danny had used every excuse he could that day and every day since then to avoid the gang. It didn't help that his brother was such a dedicated and respected member of it, one who had been intent on bringing Danny back into the fold over the years.
He made his way around the corner, relieved to be out of sight and continued his way to the pizzeria. He spotted a familiar face coming the other way and searched his memory for where he knew her from, locating her quickly.
"Hi, Lindsay Monroe right?" he questioned when he reached her, relieved when she smiled and nodded at the name.
"And you're Danny Messer," she stated. "Thank you for your help last week, I managed to make it to my interview on time."
"It's not a problem, so dare I ask if you got the job?" Danny questioned, impressed with her already, there weren't many women who would take the time to go out and work.
"I did, I'm a teacher," Lindsay told him with a smile that said she was proud of herself. He knew the school, it was only a short distance from there, and he knew the neighbourhood, it couldn't be an easy place to work. He had to admit though; if the teachers had looked like her when he'd been in school he may have turned up for more of the lessons.
"Congratulations then," he replied and she nodded, smile widening.
"I should go, I don't want to be late for class," she told him.
"I'll guess I'll see you around then Miss Monroe," he stated as he stepped aside to let her pass.
"I guess you will Mr Messer," she replied and he screwed up his face.
"I sound like my Uncle, Danny please," he almost begged her and she laughed as she nodded again.
"Danny then, I'll see you around," she said as she turned around and walked away. He watched her go wondering if he could time more of his walks to work to coincide with hers. He shook his head and let that line of thought go remembering his uncle was waiting for him at the pizzeria. The pizzeria was still closed when Danny got there so he figured he wasn't too late and his uncle greeted him with a 'you're late' and a smile when he walked through the door.
"Sorry," Danny muttered as he ran into the back to grab an apron, glad that he had been taught the finer points of making a pizza by the chef, it saved him from constantly being stuck serving the customers out front. His uncle still made him go out there sometimes but at least he could spread his work between there and the kitchen occasionally making delivery runs, it made the job that little bit less boring.
The precinct was busy as usual; it seemed crime never stopped in New York which meant neither did the police. Don sat at his desk, reading his report from the Forensics department, they'd found no finger prints and nothing else useful at the scene. He'd worked this job long enough to know the value of the forensics department but their usefulness was limited, even when they found fingerprints or some sort of evidence at a scene it could only be used once he had a suspect to match it too, it was no help whatsoever in getting him a suspect, that was all down to detective work.
"Detective Flack," someone called and Don looked up from the report, closing the small file and sliding it into the tray in the corner of his desk. He saw Granger, one of the other detectives in the gang unit sliding through the crowd of officers that were gathered at one of the other desks and in his way. "I got something you might want to see."
Don took the file the guy handed to him opening it up; it was a sketch of the suspect drawn by one of the few artists they had available to them. He'd sat down with a witness, someone who had been friends with Sands and seen someone hanging around their home a few times in the two weeks before their murders.
He recognised the sketch easily, it was someone he'd dealt with before, plenty of times and someone who was well known to the gang unit, someone Mac would want to know about. He thanked Granger and stood up taking the file with him as he found himself once again heading to the captain's office. He knocked on the door and waited for Mac to call him in before he entered and took a seat opposite the captain with a heavy sigh.
"I see you have good news for me," Mac stated as he put down the pen he'd been writing with.
"That depends on what you consider good news," Don told him, handing the file over. "We got a suspect in the Sands murders."
"That's good," Mac replied warily opening the file and Don watched his eyes narrow and his jaw stiffen as he looked over the picture. "That not so much."
"This guy shows up on out radar a little too often, how is it possible we still haven't caught him?" Don questioned with another sigh as Mac put the file down on his desk.
"Because he covers his ass, he's clever and if we bring him in on any of the stuff we know he's done he'll find a way out of it and we'll lose our shot at him. It happened before, plenty of times and we can't afford for it to happen again. When we get this guy we need it to stick otherwise he'll only make it harder for us to get anything on him," Mac told him and Don nodded his head.
"What do you want me to do, I know you told us all to back off him but if he's the killer..." Don trailed off and Mac looked thoughtful for a minute.
"Keep investigating but hold off on this guy for now, I'll see what I can find out for you," Mac said and once again Don nodded, standing up to leave the office, stopping when Mac spoke again. "Don, if this guy is involved you need to be careful, I know I don't have to tell you that but, watch your back on this one."
"I always do Mac," Don replied, he wouldn't still be here if he didn't.
The school had emptied over an hour ago and Jess was just finishing up some stuff for her classes the next day. She looked at the clock, realising it would be getting dark before long and decided to finish up at home. She picked up the stack of papers on her desk, lesson plans and the homework she'd collected from students that needed to be graded. As usual it wouldn't take long, less than half the class had bothered to do the work at all and most of those who had just gave her a token effort, half a side of scribbled work.
She left her classroom locking the door behind her and walking out of the front of the school. It was a ten minute walk home so she should get there before dark easily but that didn't mean she could relax. She held the files and papers to her chest tightly as she walked, keeping her head down as she made her way along the street.
She stopped when someone stepped in front of her and she glanced up knowing she was in trouble as soon as her eyes met his. She tried to go around him, apologising despite not having done anything wrong and hoping to just get by him. Nothing was ever that simple though and he stepped in front of her again blocking her path. She sighed not allowing her fear to show as she met his eyes again.
"Excuse me," she said in annoyance but he smirked as someone stood by his side and two more men took up positions behind her, cutting her off from any chance of escape. It was not the first time she'd ended up in a position like this, nor she suspected would it be the last. Like every other time, she stood her ground, not allowing them to see that she was intimidated by them but that didn't mean she was stupid enough to not be afraid.
"Miss Angell, I think we need to have ourselves a little talk here," one of the guys stated and Jess held her chin up, refusing to back down or look afraid. If she showed any sign that she was intimidated by them they'd have her.
"I really don't have time," she told them and tried to leave again but they blocked her off.
"Then I suggest you make time," he stated, she stopped and looked at him.
"What do you want?" she questioned and he raised an eyebrow at her.
"I don't think that's the correct way for a woman to address a man," he told her looking at the other guys with a smirk. "We have ourselves a feisty one here," he mocked turning his attention back to her. "Craig Wayson, you're putting ideas in his head, unhelpful ideas and I suggest that you stop."
"If by ideas you mean that I tell him he doesn't have to end up in jail, that he can actually do something with his life then you can forget it, I'm his teacher, it's my job," she replied, keeping her fear out of her expression and her voice. She'd learned how to feign confidence, how to keep from looking intimidated, she lived in a world run by men who had no respect for women and what they could do outside of the kitchen and the bedroom. It was confidence and determination that had gotten her this far in life, it wasn't easy breaking the status quo but she couldn't and wouldn't spend her life making dinner for a man and producing his children.
"Listen woman," the man stated stepping into her personal space trying to intimidate her more, it worked too, but she wasn't going to let him know that. "Craig is ours, if you know what's good for you then you'll be a good little woman and do as you're told."
"I'll do my job, it's what I'm paid for," Jess told them and marched passed them, brushing by the man still standing in her way. They shouted after her, a veiled threat that she did her best to ignore as she walked down the street. She breathed a sigh of relief when she rounded the corner, out of their sight and almost home. She didn't stop walking until she was home, until she was walked into the safety of her father's house. He wasn't home yet but she knew he wouldn't be far behind her so she took her papers up to her room and left them on the desk her father had been kind enough to buy for her when she started working.
She sat down at the desk and leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes and willing her heart beat to slow down. She hated constantly getting in the way of all these gangs that almost seemed to be running New York. She didn't want to keep ending up in these situations but she wasn't going to live her life in fear of them and she wasn't going to let her students do that either, even if it meant the occasional visit from gang members. She'd just have to manage, she always did somehow.
Mac parked the car in the alleyway, turning off the engine and waiting quietly in the driver's seat. His eyes scanned the alley, looking for any sign of people who shouldn't be there. He knew the risks of something like this, knew them better than most and he'd learned not to take anything lightly, that was when people died. He saw a figure move into view behind the car, a woman entering the alleyway, her head down but her eyes darting in every direction, she knew the risks too and she would pay the higher price.
He got out of the car, closing the door behind him and waiting for her to reach him. She offered him a small smile, genuine but afraid and he felt for her. She'd been doing this a long time and most people would have called it quits long ago, she stuck in there though and she did whatever she could for him.
"Stella," he greeted and she met his eyes.
"Detective Taylor," she said as she looked back down the alley. "I think I was being followed, I'm also pretty sure I lost them a couple of blocks ago."
Mac's eyes automatically darted to the entrance to the alley, then to the wall that blocked any escape and back to the entrance. He knew Stella wouldn't have come down here if she hadn't been sure she was no longer being followed but every other cop instinct in him told him to call this off. Stella stepped forward and put a hand on his arm calling for his attention.
"Nobody saw me come down here Mac, I'm sure of it," she told him and that was good enough for him for now. He would never normally put much faith in his informants, wouldn't rely on them more than he had to and wouldn't trust them as far as he could throw them. Stella was different though, she had been nothing but an asset to him since she'd been brought into the precinct a year ago as a witness. She hadn't known much about the crime he'd been investigating but she had known other things and reluctantly she'd shared that with him. It had led to an arrest n a completely unrelated case and she'd still been in a position to help him, which she had done, every time he'd asked, even at a risk to herself.
"I need your help again," he told her and she nodded her head.
"We wouldn't be here if you didn't," she replied.
"There was a double homicide yesterday," he told her handing her the file he'd had in his hand, the artist sketch of the suspect.
"Frankie," Stella said quietly as she opened the file and looked at the drawing. "The Sands right?"
"So you do know something," Mac stated and she nodded her head.
"Yeah but not much," she replied and he waited for her to continue. "He's been boasting about 'getting rid of the Sands problem' for the last couple of days," she told him, obviously quoting Frankie himself. "You know he doesn't tell me much but I've overheard him with his friends and once they get a couple of drinks down them they'll talk about anything regardless of whether I'm around. He said something about them overhearing Mickey and Jacob talking about the Aldridge shooting and the restaurant fire a few weeks ago. Apparently they overheard information that could have put both men, Frankie and a few other people behind bars. Well, Frankie included himself but I doubt any charges would have stuck, you know what he's like, he can get himself out of anything."
"Not anything Stella, sooner or later we're going to get him, he'll make a mistake," Mac told her and she smiled weakly.
"Anyway, we were at home and couple of the guys were around with him, they were talking about the Sand's having been into the police station a couple of times so the problem had to be dealt with more 'effectively'," Stella stated and sighed.
"So he definitely did it?" Mac questioned.
"Yes, but I can't prove it," Stella told him.
"And someone fitting his description hanging around the apartment isn't going to get me a conviction," Mac sighed.
"I'll see if I can get anything more for you," Stella told him. "But like I said, you know he doesn't tell me much and now he's having me followed because Jake Daniels made a threat against him and what he owns which apparently includes me."
"He's threatening you?" Mac questioned in concern, he didn't want her in more danger than she already was.
"Don't worry about me I'll be fine, Frankie won't let them get to me, it would be bad for his reputation if someone took out his girl," Stella replied with a small laugh but Mac didn't find the situation funny. If he could he would have Stella out of this whole mess, would have had her out a long time ago. "I should get back; he's already going to be pretty mad that I dodged his guys even though I'm not supposed to know they're there. If I reappear pretty quickly and play dumb then it will be the guys in more trouble than me."
Mac smiled. "I'll contact you again soon."
"Alright, I'll see you," she replied turning to leave but Mac grabbed her arm stepping closer to her, probably a little too close.
"Be careful," he said and she smiled.
"I will," she replied and after another moment turned around and left the alleyway. He watched her leave, wishing he could call her back and tell her this was over, he was getting her out. He couldn't though; she was too valuable an asset, as harsh and unfeeling as that sounded. Someday though, someday he'd get her away from all of this, if someone deserved a fresh start it was her and he would make damn sure that she got it.
TBC
