Chapter 2

Indian Summer is an elusive season; as much as it is looked forward to, it does not always arrive. Sometimes summer slams into autumn that then slams into winter with barely a breath of a break between them. But not this year, Indian Summer had arrived in full force, the day after Halloween. Thus instead of the sweaters and long coats everyone's closets in NYC should be dictating, the weatherman reported that it was 80 degrees in the city, hazy, and humid enough that shorts and a t-shirt still felt good. Adam and Emi had finally gotten the heater fixed after nearly freezing for a full week as the nights were clear and cold only now here that they could have heat they needed air conditioning – which wasn't working.

It was almost as if, Emi thought, they couldn't win for losing. No sooner would they get one thing fixed than they realized they had really needed to work on the thing they thought they could put off. Tonight had been meant to know a few of those things off the list with the help of friends that didn't want to vegetate at home alone. Yet again, Emi felt that if she didn't have bad luck she'd have no luck at all. Logically she knew that was ridiculous because she had Adam, but for heaven's sake the man wasn't a four leaf clover or rabbit's foot. Emi tried to tell herself that sometimes life just happened, unfortunately it seemed to happen to her more often and with a harsher impact.

After Mac delivered the news of the new case, he left to run Christine home before heading into the office. Adam would be following him shortly. Danny and Hawkes were both calling their respective significant others … Lindsey out of town in Montana with the children visiting her family since they couldn't get away for Christmas this year, and Hawkes' latest amore in Florida visiting the grandmother that had raised her. Emi was packing up the cookies and leftovers so the men could have them … or Adam would take it into the office and it would be there for the other two when they took a break.

Emi had had the afternoon and evening planned out. Technically it was supposed to have been for Danny's and Hawkes' benefit to keep them from getting morose with their ladies absent, but Emi acknowledged it had been more about keeping her from being morose than them. She hated being at loose ends. Hated it. Damn her continuing weaknesses … hand, leg, and everything else that hurt no matter that she followed the blasted orders of the therapists to the letter. And yes that was therapists plural … it wasn't just therapies for the physical injuries she'd sustained during her kidnapping (see Episode 1: "Missing Heart"). Adam, Emi's friend, housemate – and some would say keeper – had decided to get counseling to deal with memories of the abuse he'd suffered at his father's hands growing up and it was really helping. He'd suggested – a little cautiously – that perhaps she would benefit from talking to someone as well.

"Poor Adam," Emi thought. "He wants to help me. And I know it is even for my sake and not because he dislikes who I am overall. But as much as I know he cares for me he simply doesn't understand I've been through this rot my entire life. My brain just isn't hardwired to be normal. I tried normal, was forced into trying it at the group home, and it nearly killed me or nearly got me killed depending on how you want to look at it." Emi sighed feeling like she was letting him down. There was nothing for it … she was going to have to make work for herself somehow and until she could make that work pay they might as well get the benefit of her hyperactivity here around the house.

Coming into the kitchen to tell her that Danny and Hawkes were almost ready to pull out Adam got a pleading look on his face after spotting the look on hers. Pointing to his hair, "See this? I'd like my follicles to remain active and healthy. I do not want to be the only bald man in my family. And if you keep falling off ladders …"

"I didn't fall off the ladder … the ladder fell, I hung on. Remember?"

"Emi … you're gorgeous, brilliant, cook so good I've had to start going to the gym or risk having to roll to work, and you've got enough academic letters after your name to make the Cyrillic alphabet jealous, but I swear if I catch you up on another ladder …"

"You'll what?" she asked calling his bluff.

Adam's shoulder slumped and he said, "I don't know but I'll think of something as soon as my brain doesn't fill like you've put it through a blender. C'mon Emi … please. I can't stand the idea that you might get hurt much less hurt when I'm not here."

Emi rolled her eyes and then looked up to see Danny sticking his head around the door to see if there was a cookie close enough to snitch. Grumpily she asked, "What are you looking at?"

Danny Messer wiped his nose and mouth to try and control the smile that he could never quite hide when Adam and Emi got into one of their "spats." He finally chuckled and said, "Don't draw me into it 'cause I ain't pickin' sides. But … if I was a betting man … and I am … I would say that Adam will win this one because you really don't want to worry him."

"Oh shut up," Emi said more than mildly disgruntled, not the least because everyone in the room knew that Danny was right.

She didn't want to worry Adam but she wasn't ready to just roll over either. Adam had been nearly impossible for the last two months as she'd slowly recovered from injuries she'd sustained at the hands of a husband and wife serial killer team that the newspapers had dubbed the Missing Heart Killers.

"Oh … just go on with all of you. Show's over. I'll be a good girl and not worry you big he-men. Go on I said. Shoo!"

Danny left laughing but Adam lingered. "Emi …"

"I said …"

"I know," he said gently taking her into his arms. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"For what?" she asked irritably.

"For … all of it. It's just that you only got the cast and brace off not that long ago and the doctor said to take things slow."

Emi sighed. "Stop it with your sweet talkin' Adam Ross or I'll get even more cross than I already am."

Adam knew he had "won" and wouldn't belabor the point … he'd at least learned that much. The doctor really had said to take things slow but the truth was he worried that Emi's gremlins might pop up and she'd wind up back in a cast sooner rather than later. Finally satisfied that at least it wouldn't be ladders that played a role in her next predicament Adam and the other men left taking the dinner she had meant to serve them that night … and plenty of cookies to tide them over until they could get to it.

Since painting was out … at least any that required ladders … Emi thought about the remainder of her long to do list. Then it came to her, the one task she'd been avoiding since they'd moved in, not the least of which was because when she faced it she wanted everyone out of the blast zone in case it brought on a meltdown.

She didn't really want to do this. She'd been having nightmares about it. But it was time. It was either that room or the attic and since Adam had already made her promise to wait on him to start the attic …

# # # # #

Danny and Hawkes finally made it to the crime scene. It was a very cross Don Flack who met them at the high-rise's elevator and grumbled, "Did you take the scenic route or what?"

Rather than give him a direct answer Hawkes said, "Emi sent you a sandwich and some cookies. They're down in the car."

Immediately Don's mood shifted a little; he wasn't less irritated but at least now he had something to look forward to besides stale coffee and paperwork. "At least someone appreciates me," he said allowing a small grin to replace the sour expression of a moment before. "Just don't tell the lab rat that or I might just lose access to the best cookies since my sainted grandmother's."

Danny, suddenly all business now that they were at the crime scene asked, "What've we got."

"Double homicide. But that ain't the problem."

"Ok, I'll bite," Danny said now curious. "What's the problem?"

The trademark snark that Don was famous for was out for the world to see when he said, "Oh, I'll let Agent Becall explain that one … Agent Haylen Becall. You two remember her don't you?"

Author's Note: hanks to everyone that has read and reviewed. Special mention goes to Smuffly, of course, but I'd also like to give a shout out to Cornish pasties as well as well as those that have marked the story to follow. My plan is to update every two to three days depending on real life and the upcoming holidays afterall ... cookies, you know? LOL