Stella's Storyline: Chapter 4

(Thursday)

Stella was on the way to work. In the subway, she remembered that she shouldn't forget the lunch this afternoon with Petra Regina. And she wanted to tell Mac what she had done two evenings before… he was her best friend and boss, and she could trust him, she knew that. She was not sure what he would say but she hoped he wouldn't be angry.

As she arrived at the lab, Lindsay told her they had a new case. This morning they found a dead girl in the garbage on Staten Island. All evidence they had found said her own father was her killer and had abused her but he was not at home. Cases like this made Stella angry. The parents abused their daughter instead of caring for her. She thought that some children in the orphanage had it better there than in their own homes.

The time till lunch flew by, and she finished her work to be on time. She wrote Mac a little note that it may be possible that she would come later than usual after lunch. Then she left the lab.

12:08pm: Restaurant

As Stella walked into the restaurant, she saw Petra Regina sitting at a table next to the window at the end of the room. She took her coat off and went straight to her.

"Hi ya. Nice to see you. Thanks for coming. How are you?"

"Oh good, thanks. I have only one hour. My boss said I have to write my story by tomorrow, and I'm still looking for information. It's about the new airplane A380. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing special. We have a new case at work very hard. But I'm not allowed to talk about it. Sorry. I think my boss would kill me if he knew my new friend works for a newspaper," Stella said with a smile.

"Yeah, sometimes it's difficult… What do you want to eat or drink?"

"Mmh… let me think. I'll drink a soda… and something vegetarian to eat. Rice with Indian vegetable sounds good."

"I'll have a mushroom pizza and drink a cola."

They ordered their food and a few minutes later they were eating.

"How long have you gone to the HIV group?"

"Not much longer than you. I was only there two more times than you. The first time I went everybody was so friendly to me and nobody forced me to do anything. You know, it's really hard to talk in front of so many people. The next time I was there I talked a little bit but not too much. The next week you were there for your first time so I thought it would help you if I tell the others more about me. Some things are too private… but we all have the same problems that connect us: to be HIV+.

"Sometimes I think about what I have done to deserve this? Was it because I broke up with my last boyfriend? That I had lied to my boss? Or anything else? And then I see other people who had had some more terrible things in their lives like Katrina or 9/11 and lost everything. In these moments, I know my life is shorter with HIV, but I have people who love me, and I can do everything I want. But let us change the subject… you said you wanted to tell me something. And I think we should talk about what you did on your arm."

"I don't know what I can really say. I grew up in an orphanage until I was 18. Then I did my training as a detective and yes… now I'm here. I work in a lab and all my colleagues are really good. My boss lost his wife at 9/11 and the immediate time after her death I was there for him. We're only best friends and never had a real relationship. Now, he has a girlfriend, her name is Peyton. She's our new pathologist. I think that's good for him, but I'm also a little bit jealous.

"And when I got my results back, he was there for me. But it was hard at first, and I didn't realize it. And last year, I had a really stupid relationship with a guy, his name was Frankie. First, it was great, the sex too. But then he forced me to do things I didn't want to do. After I broke up with him, I found a video on the internet. He had filmed us having sex. The next evening when I came home from work, he was in my apartment. He threatened me with a knife, hit me and abused me. I was sure he wanted to kill me but I escaped and shot him. And then, two evenings ago in my apartment everything came back and so I cut myself. I hoped I could relieve myself with that although I knew it was wrong. I hope I'll never do it again and want to tell my partner this evening. Sorry that I've told you so much about me."

"Hey, that's okay. I know it helps to talk about it all, sometimes to see another view. What do you think about going out this weekend? By then I'll be finished with my story and be free."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I have to go too; I think my colleagues are waiting for me. I'll phone you tomorrow and tell you when I have time, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

They gave each other a hug, paid for their lunch, and went to their work.

As Stella arrived at the lab, Mac called her in his office. "What's up Mac?"

"I hope you had an interesting lunch. We found the father of Emily. We found him in a bar next to his home, a little bit drunken and beating a woman. He denied everything. I don't know what we can do now. All the evidence we found says he's guilty. Now he wants a lawyer. We're still waiting for him to come."

"I want to talk to him."

"What?"

"The killer, Mac. Can I talk to him?" Stella lifted her head.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he said slowly.

"Please? I'll be careful, and there will be a uniform in there in case something goes wrong. I'll do everything in my power to arrest him. Please."

Mac nodded slowly, and Stella went out.

"Why did you kill her?" Stella entered the interrogation room, throwing a picture of the victim on the table in front of him.

"I didn't kill her."

"Then why did we find your sperm inside her?"

"I slept with her. So?"

"After you killed her." She watched him closely. "Why did you hit her?"

"I didn't touch her," he protested.

"But you just said you slept with her, contradicting your answer."

"Okay, maybe I did hit her."

"Why?"

"She didn't do what I told her to so I punished her."

"Let me get this straight: she was your slave?" Stella stared at him angrily.

"More or less," he shrugged.

"What did she do to deserve to be killed?" she yelled.

"She refused to sleep with me and threatened to tell the police."

"Women and children are not slaves. We're equal to men."

"Not in this world," he rolled his eyes.

"If you didn't need us for sex, you'd kill us all. That's all men ever think about!" she shouted in rage. "Does it please you to hit a woman or your own child?"

He stood when he turned her back. "Maybe it does."

She turned to face him, walking right up to him. "You sick - "

His fist connected with her shoulder. "I need to teach you a few lessons, Detective."

He threw her against the wall and she screamed. As she didn't stop, he bit her and threw her to the ground.

At this moment, Mac stepped in, stopping the man from hitting her again. "Are you okay?"

Stella nodded, tears still running from her eyes. "I'm fine. Lock him up."

As Mac helped her to stand up on her feet, her sleeve rolled up, and he saw the cuts on her right arm. He couldn't believe what Stella had done. "Come with me."

Without a word, Stella followed him to his office.

"What do you think they're doing in there?" Flack asked as all of them watched Mac's office from the break room.

Mac and Stella had gone into his office half an hour ago and drew the blinds. No one knew what they were doing.

"He's probably got her pinned to his desk, laying on top of her," Danny smiled.

"Danny Messer!" Lindsay yelled. "How can you think of that?"

"It's easy."

"It's disgusting to think of them that way."

Mac gently unbuttoned her sweater and peeled it back from her shoulder. He touched the bruise already there, and she pulled away. "Sorry. I don't think your collarbone is broken."

Stella buttoned her shirt back up.

"It still hurts."

"Yeah, I know. Stel, what do the cuts on your arm mean?"

"It's nothing."

"Um, I don't think so. Sweetheart, that's not a solution, believe me. Can I see them please?"

"No, Mac, it's nothing. It's not what you think. It's none of your business."

"Do you want to know what I think? I think you were looking for a solution and wanted to know how it feels. And you know what I'll do: You'll take two weeks off, you'll get paid, but I don't want to see you at work. And I also want you to go everyday from Monday – Friday in these two weeks to our psychologist, Sheila Heller. And then we'll see what she has to say. We've solved our case so it shouldn't be a problem for you. And I'll call Hawkes now to get him to look after your arm."

"No, Mac, please. Don't be so hard to me. I didn't do anything wrong."

Mac didn't want to hear what Stella had to say and called Hawkes. He was not there so he went with Stella downstairs to the autopsy room to Sid.

Stella said it didn't matter whether Sid or Peyton looked after her cuts. She had to do it and so…

As the reached the autopsy, Peyton was not there and Sid was on his late lunch break. Mac talked for a few minutes alone with Sid then they both came back to Stella.

"Lift up your sleeve, please," Sid said.

"Go away. I can handle it."

"Stella, please. I promise I won't hurt you. I just want to look at your cuts. I promise if they're not too deep, I'll sort it out on my own, and you won't have to go to a doctor or the hospital."

Stella rolled her sleeve up, showing him the cuts. "That's all. I did it only on the right side, because I was scared to do it on the left side. I don't know why. I think it was because I cut myself there on the Emery Gable crime scene."

Sid looked carefully at her cuts. "They're not very deep. If you don't do this again, I think your arm will be ok in a few days. You'll have a few scars, but I think they'll also go away."

"Can I go home now?" Stella asked the two guys.

"Yeah, sure. If you need help, call me. And don't forget to go everyday to Sheila," Mac said.

"No, I won't. Bye bye." She walked out and decided to go home.

A/N: I'll post the next chapter Monday. Please review.