Chapter 2

Three days previously:

"Hey, Peanut!" Nick greeted his ten year old daughter, Mara, as she climbed into the backseat of his SUV.

"Hey, dad," the girl responded listlessly, sending up red flags for Nick.

Twisting around in the driver's seat, Nick looked at his daughter. Her green eyes were red rimmed, and she clutched her backpack to her as though it were a shield.

"What's wrong?" Nick inquired softly.

"Nothing, Dad. Can we just go home, please?" Mara was staring at the floorboards between her feet.

"Okay, sure," Nick replied, waving out the windshield at the school librarian, Dan Waynright, who had just locked up and was walking out to his own car.

The usually gregarious, outgoing ten year old sucked in a breath, causing Nick to wonder again about her mood. There was something there, he just had to put his finger on it.

"Did something happen at school today?" he asked softly, as he pulled the SUV into traffic.

"I don't want to talk about it! Just leave me alone!" Mara screamed, burying her face in the backpack she still clutched.

Pulling the sun visor down to keep the setting sun out of his eyes, Nick decided to drop it until they got home. He had the night off, Tracy would be home from her shift at the crime lab soon, and Greg's guest lecture at UNLV had ended hours ago.

The silence in the vehicle was only broken by the blond haired girl's soft sobs.

They broke Nick's heart, making him dread what they would discover had happen.

"Papa!" Mara threw herself into Greg's arms, breaking out in fresh tears.

Greg was at an uncharacteristic loss for words at his daughter's strange behavior.

Nick walked into Greg's office, having followed the girl into the house from the garage.

Looking up at his husband helplessly, Greg stroked Mara's back reassuringly. "What happened?"

"She wouldn't tell me," he replied somberly. "We've got to get her to tell us. This behavior... It reminds me of right after..." Nick trailed off, unsure of how Greg would react to the one thing he had never told him and Tracy about.

Greg raised an eyebrow, but didn't push. He'd always suspected there was something in Nick's past, from his childhood. Nick's reaction to crimes involving kids was just too strong. Plus, Greg and Nick tended to argue over their parenting styles.

Having been raised by an obsessively over protective mother, Greg didn't want to subject his own kids to that overprotectiveness. Nick, on the other hand, wouldn't even leave the kids with a babysitter unless they provided at least ten references from parents who'd hired them several times.

Both men turned their heads at the sound of the connecting door to the garage slamming closed. Two sets of running feet announced amply what Tracy's voice affirmed, "We're home!"

"Hey, Dad, Papa!" two voices yelled into the office, as the boys raced to their rooms to do their homework.

Tracy poked her head in the office, the smile fading from her face when she saw Mara curled up on Greg's lap. The girl's sobs had finally subsided, but her eyes were still red rimmed and puffy. She was sucking her thumb, too – something she hadn't done since she was a toddler.

Hitting her knees next to Greg's chair, Tracy reached up and stroked the little girl's cheek. Sensing her men knew about as much as she did, Tracy directed her question at Mara, "What's wrong?"

Tracy was rocked backwards on her heels when Mara launched herself from Greg's arms into hers. Between renewed sobs, Mara wailed, "He- he... ma-made m-me touch my-myself!"

The wail brought the boys running into the room, but Tracy sent them out with a wave of her hand.

Nick's face paled, and he suddenly found himself sitting on the floor with no knowledge of how he'd gotten there. "Oh, God! No!"

Neither Greg nor Tracy noticed his behavior, though, as they only had eyes for Mara right now.

"Who?" Tracy asked, as the CSI in her attempted to visually process the scared ten year old.

The school uniform the girl wore was rumpled, but that could be explained away as simply as the clothes had been worn all day. The white shirt was buttoned wrong, something Tracy thought she would have noticed that morning.

"Mr. Waynright," the frightened girl finally managed to whisper.

The utterance of the name seemed to bring Nick back to his senses. He looked over at Mara, and there was a look of such anger on his face that the little girl buried her face against Tracy's chest.

Greg and Tracy both looked up at Nick in shock.

"Nicky!" Tracy snapped at him.

Blinking in stunned realization that he had scared his daughter, Nick went over to her. Tentatively placing his hand on her back, he spoke softly, "Peanut! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! I'm not mad at you!"

Turning her head so she was peering at Nick through her blond locks, Mara sniffled. "'S okay," she finally whispered. With a wisdom that should have been beyond her years, Mara looked into Nick's eyes, and said, "Don't do anything dumb, Dad!"

"Don't worry, Peanut. I won't," Nick assured his daughter. Inside, he was seething. He wanted to get his hands on the sick son-of-a-bitch and strangle him.

Seeming to sense what Nick was keeping just below the surface, Tracy looked over him. "Call Captain Brass. Get him to come over," she said, giving Nick something to do.