Disclaimer: I do not own them, just borrowing them or previous events for a while to have some fun.
AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and additional comments from Conche and Lilkenny
Chapter 6 – Déjà vu
Flack was at his desk when the phone rang. He snagged the handset from the cradle and answered abruptly. In response to a soft greeting from the other end of the line he felt a sense of peace wash over him and a slight grin cross his lips.
"Are you alright?" It was his first reaction, the way she had been torn away from him earlier on the street concerned him.
"I'm fine Detective. How are you?" He was relieved at her calm quiet tone, she seemed just as concerned about him, unless he was reading too much into things.
"I'd be better if you could have taken a look at those photos." It was true, it had been a snap request as they walked along the street, but the reality was that she might actually be able to give them something as a lead to follow.
"I'm sorry. I wanted to but I don't get a lot of choice in things right now." She sounded disappointed and the idea of her having no choice made him frown, obviously the two henchmen were keeping her under observation. He needed to know more about her and what was happening, but right then it didn't appear as if it would happen.
"Who are those guys?"
"Felix & Jerry? ... I told you ... listen, I said too much this morning, just forget I said anything, I'm alright. I just need to get on with my job; you need to forget I existed."
It sounded like she was trying to distance herself from him and the case, but he wasn't sure if that was the right thing for her to do, he tried to keep her talking longer, "not an easy thing to do after that little show last night ... Karla ... What are you involved in?" His smile at the image of her flirting with him the night before vanished and he shook his head at the thought of her almost being hit by the Silver SUV; he wanted to help.
"Nothing you need to know about. I have to go, goodbye Detective." He heard the strain of emotion in her voice seconds before the click of the call being abruptly disconnected.
Forget she existed? Easier said than done. She had done a real number on him; reached parts of him he'd barely known existed since Jess. He wondered if she was telling him the truth, that she was alright. He tried hitting the redial button on the phone hoping to speak to her again, but all he got was a message saying the number wasn't registered.
Forget I existed. Her words echoed in his head, but how could he? He'd been there when she'd practically thrown herself at him the night before, he was the one that had twice had his arms around her, he was the one pulling her from the path of the SUV and feeling the tremors run through her when it had sunk in about her being the target. He was the one she had tried to confide in. It wasn't just some weird dream he'd had when craving Jess, again. This was real, he knew that, and this was something he was not going to let go lightly. He realised he wanted to see her again, hear her voice, he wanted to know if the flirting from the night before was a facade or if that was her personality, and if she would bust it out on him again. He thought for a moment of that day in the car with Jess when they were on stake out and she'd accused him of busting out his game on her, the warm feeling he'd had in that moment, one which was the start of a lot more moments and the smile spread across his face. Was he really getting the same vibes from Karla?
"Flack, Taylor wants you upstairs with everything you have on the Mirage Murder last night. He said to be sure you took everything." Flack groaned, pulled from his reverie, by the message from the duty desk sergeant.
Everything ... that wasn't good.
The other thing that wasn't good was the gnawing feeling in his gut that had started after breakfast, now it was beginning to make him nauseous as well. The sensation knocking aside the moment of warmth he felt when hearing her voice on the end of the phone line.
Something wasn't right.
Wasn't right at all.
-----
Mac entered the lab where Hawkes was staring at the evidence from the Nightclub murder.
"Hawkes, pack up anything relating to the FBI or Miss Morgan and bring it to my office," Mac told him firmly, a tone which indicated there was to be no argument.
"There's some I haven't got to yet."
"That's okay; just bring me everything we have on our mystery woman or the agent."
Hawkes gave him a concerned and confused look. "Is there a problem Mac?" Hawkes noted the serious, no argument look on his boss' face.
"Just bring everything to my office." Mac repeated sternly.
"Alright, you got it. Take me about 10 minutes to log everything."
"Fine, just make it as quick as possible."
As Mac turned to leave Flack appeared in the doorway. "Hey Mac, Duty Desk Sergeant told me I should come see you and bring all the files with me for our Mirage case."
"Yeah, thanks Don." He held his hand out to take the files from the Detective. Flack slowly handed them over. Mac glanced at them, "Your memo book?"
"You want that too?" Don creased his brow, wondering what it was this time that needed the lab boss to spy on him. "Mac it's all in the report, why do you need my book?"
"I need everything in this case that refers to the young woman you detained last night. ... Trust me this doesn't please me any more than it does you, but I have orders too." Mac voiced in calm quiet tones, trying to assure Flack that it wasn't his choice.
"Mac what's going on?"
"We have to trust that there are bigger things at stake here than what killed one man in a heat wave." Mac replied, his tone firm, barely hiding the anger he was keeping at bay.
"You're not making sense you know."
"Just give me your memo book Don." Mac used the same firm tone Hawkes had experienced moments before, the tone which said don't argue.
"This is looking like déjà vu you know, I did that before and it convicted one of my guys on a drugs rap. What is it doing this time?" Flack kept his voice low, but still replied in his own firm tone. Memories of the last time he'd handed over his memo book assaulting him like it had just happened.
"Letting a potential killer walk." Mac admitted pulling Flack aside in the hallway and ensuring no one could overhear. He watched Flack's eyes go wide as he scrubbed his hand over his face.
"Karla Morgan? You think she killed the guy?" Flack half protested, the image of her in his arms a couple of hours ago was dancing before his eyes.
"I don't know and we're being thwarted at every turn. She's off limits and out of the investigation."
"She's in trouble Mac, she's into something way over her head and we're just gonna hand her over?"
"Don, we have no choice."
"That's right Detective," sneered the voice of the grey haired visitor to the lab who had crept up on them. "Where is the evidence?"
"It's being packed now." Mac faced Pearson and fixed him with a steely gaze. "We'll wait in my office."
Escorted by Mac, Pearson reluctantly walked back down the corridor. Flack followed slowly in their wake.
----
Karla tossed the magazine onto the table, sighed heavily and pushed herself off the couch. Glancing around the rather lavish hotel suite noting the pristine condition of the place, the only thing showing anyone was there was the pile of trashy gossip magazines scattered on the table. She was bored, it was a nice day out and she wanted to enjoy it, well, as much as she could being followed everywhere by the two gorillas that had been assigned to protect her. There was little chance of them letting her out after giving them the slip that morning, but she needed to do something. Sighing again she walked to the door. She barely opened it a crack before Jerry stepped in her way. She noted the chair leaning on the opposite wall. He'd been waiting for her.
"You know the rules Karla, you have to stay put, you've already given us the slip twice and we don't need another goose chase around the city."
"Well I can't stay cooped up around here all day either. Can't we just go for a walk or something?"
"No, it's for your own good." He drawled as he stepped into the room, forcing her to step back away from him. Standing at well over 6 feet tall and with the solid muscular body which accompanied his height he seemed to tower over her, even though at 5 foot 7 she was pretty striking herself, granted the heels she generally wore helped her. She could smell the mix of stale sweat, cigarettes and cologne which hung around him, she felt sick and turned around so that she had some cleaner air, thinking about the detective from earlier, he'd acclimatised to the city, even in the heat he smelt good. Somehow his size didn't seem as overpowering, remembering his arms around her, it felt good. She wished he could have whisked her away somewhere quiet so they could get to know each other better and talk about his case. Jerry must have moved behind her as she was assaulted by another waft of his odour bringing her back to the present with a deep sigh.
"That's what you keep saying, but since I've had you two following me I've become the centre of attention. In case you forgot I was shot at and nearly run down, can you justify that?"
"I'm not the one making the call here; take it up with the boss."
"I'd love to but the weasel hasn't dared come near me since this morning. So tell me how I'm supposed to have any kind of discussion about the case?" Jerry remained quiet; instead he looked around and ran his fingers round the collar of his shirt as he eyed the thermostat on the wall, his shirt showing distinct wet patches under his arms as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Hot enough in here for you?" He griped. Karla shrugged.
"Didn't ask you to come in, I'd be quite happy if you spied on me from your arctic cellar," she replied referring to their room where the AC was running full blast, and they could watch her on the CCTV as she moved about the hotel suite which was currently home.
"How can you stand the heat?" He moaned. She smiled.
"You acclimatise, when I was younger we didn't have AC, so I got used to the city temperatures, hot in summer, cold in winter. Now is there something you want?"
"For you to settle down and stop prowling like a caged tiger." He huffed at her.
"Why should I? This is my case, but weasel face has taken all my case notes." She was fed up with everyone else telling her what to do, like she was some damned rookie. She'd been doing the job for 10 years and had planned this whole case, now when their trap was almost ready to be sprung; she'd had the carpet yanked from under her. Some middle aged overweight, overbearing pen pusher had been given control, and he lauded it like he'd owned it. Now a protection detail? How the hell was she supposed to get undercover when she was under constant scrutiny?
Whatever she said made no difference to the giant in the room with her, he was one of those with little up top except the need to say yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir as he did everything the weasel told him. She glared at him as he opened his mouth to placate her, "you've got the TV, why don't you get all cosy with some chick flick or soap."
"You wish. .... no wonder you're divorced, no sense of style or romance, chick flicks aren't girls idea of fun, well unless you're a teenager, I need something more. Can you at least let me have my laptop?"
"No can do sweet cheeks. Nothing that can be traced back to you, remember. You want something we'll get it for you." The male chauvinist.... Like she didn't know the risk she would be taking. She was furious as she continued to glare at him.
"Fine! I want a gallon of Hagen Daz cookies and cream, and some proper reading material, not the trashy stuff you think all girls want to read. Those are fine for flicking through at the dentist, but cooped up for hours on my own I need something real, any chance of a good Tom Clancy novel?"
He seemed a little taken aback at her outburst.
"... I'll see what I can do. Sit tight and chill out." He mumbled as he pulled the door open. "Put the AC on it might help calm that temper of yours." He quipped as he walked out pulling the door rapidly behind him.
She grabbed a cushion and flung it in his wake and half squealed in frustration before stomping into the bedroom and slamming the door behind her. She had made up her mind. This was the last case she was working in DC, after this she was going to find a nice field office somewhere or see if she could transfer to some other agency in New York.
She briefly wondered if there were any openings in NYPD homicide.
-----
Stella walked into Mac's office and perched on the edge of his desk. Mac looked up at her and grinned in response to the smile which seemed to be plastered on her face. "You look like the cat got the cream, want to share?"
"You first, I heard about the Fed in here throwing his weight around."
"There was," Mac answered slowly, a frown crossing his face as he controlled the rage at the unwillingness of another agency to share information, "our prime suspect is in the wind along with anything we had in evidence."
"Is she still your prime suspect?"
"I guess we'll never know, we've been told to back off and forget her."
"And you're going to?" Stella questioned, as Mac noticed the way her brow furrowed.
"I don't see we have a lot of options right now."
"Then you probably should talk to Flack, he had breakfast with her this morning and from all accounts saved her from another attempt on her life."
"And how do you know all this?"
"He told me," Mac noticed the glimmer in her eyes as she talked about their friend. "It's the first time since Angell he's volunteered any information to anyone, I think he likes her."
"He's definitely feeling this one for some reason. He was all for tracking her down last night. Did he tell you her name?" Mac felt some of the anger dissipate as he watched Stella perch on the edge of his desk, her presence enough to calm his shattered nerves and give him some much needed down time, even if it was only for a few moments.
Stella shook her head, "No didn't mention it."
"You'll appreciate this ... Her driver's licence called her Aphrodite." Mac gave her a knowing smile as he spoke a glimmer of amusement appeared in his eyes as he looked up at her.
"Ah, Greek Goddess of love, beauty and sexual rapture." She mirrored his grin as she spoke and he could see the flicker in her eyes as the thought ran through her mind of the challenge that was awaiting the young detective if their suspect lived up to her name. "Is she pretty?"
"I only saw her driver's licence; Flack's the only one to have talked to her. Danny saw her in the club, said she was a stunner."
"Maybe it'll be good for Don to think about someone else, this morning is the most I've seen him communicate in a long time."
"What did he have to say?"
"Doesn't think she killed your guy, he thinks she's in trouble."
"I know he said something to me after Pearson walked off with our evidence, but right now we have nothing but his gut instinct to go on."
"Something will turn up Mac, it always does. Danny and Adam still have a ton of evidence from the nightclub to go through and you know how Adam loves rebuilding broken glass."
"I think I'll steer clear for a while yet then. He knows where to find me if he comes up with something." Mac grinned at her, knowing that puzzles were Adam's least favourite occupation after having several of them dumped on him over the years. "How are you doing with your case?"
"Our decapitation? The one you left me with?" She asked pointedly. "Lindsay is having fun in reconstruction with an assortment of weapons, trying to match the cut with a murder weapon."
"And Hawkes?"
"He's with Sid getting more details on the cause of death from your nightclub vic. I still think they're waiting on an ID."
"Then I guess I should wander down there and see what they got and let you and Lindsay get back to your case."
"I guess you should, and Mac, will you talk to Flack, I think he could use a friendly ear right now, he's got a lot on his mind and a lot of it is guilt over Angell if he's attracted to this .. Aphrodite. Is that really her name?" She asked with a broad smile.
"Looks that way, only thing we could find on her was a driver's licence and gun permit all other records are sealed. ... You really think Flack is thinking about moving on this soon after Angell?"
"It's been over a year Mac, he's young, he's probably lonely, and he could probably use some advice from someone who's been through it."
"And you think I could give advice?" He asked giving Stella a pointed look, his eyebrows slightly raised as he met her gaze.
"Mac, you've been out with a few women, you and Peyton were together a year, he needs someone who understands." Stella leaned forwards and patted his chest with her hands in an attempt to encourage him and give him some confidence.
"Okay I'll see what I can do, although it's all kind of a moot point if she's in protective custody and he doesn't see her again."
"If it's not her, there'll be others, he needs to know what he's feeling is normal and it's all very well me telling him, but I don't know, you do."
She pushed herself from Mac's desk and turned towards the door. Mac caught her wrist and stopped her from walking away.
"Stella, do you have plans later?"
"Only if you need me on overtime, otherwise it's a night in with my book and a good bottle of red wine."
"Can I interest you in joining me at the Mayor's benefit; I'll buy you dinner as a reward."
"Ah, there you go Mac, trying to get me to play politics again, sure that's wise after the last time you took me to Gracie Mansion?" She asked her eyes glinting at him again as her lips curved into a sly smile, like they were sharing a secret.
Mac mirrored her smile. "I'm sure this time you'll be on your best behaviour."
"and Dinner afterwards?" She asked as she cocked her head to one side as if contemplating the offer.
"That's what I said." Confirmed Mac realising he still had his fingers curled around her wrist, which he finally released.
"What time do I need to be ready?"
------
Lindsay picked up the next implement in the line and studied it carefully, looking at the blade and comparing it with the pictures of the wound on their victim. Finally she put it down and studied the bamboo pole which was serving as her test subject. She studied the marks she had already made for a moment then went back to the table, picked up the safety glasses and put them on before taking a firm hold of the object she had just studied. Turning to the pole and planting her feet firmly on the floor she took both hands and swung the weapon at the wooden pole, almost losing her footing as she sliced right through with her first swing, the momentum knocking her off balance. Fortunately she recovered quickly and stood wide eyed as she glanced between her test object and the blade which had just sliced it.
Stella had arrived just in time to see the final blow delivered and an amazed Lindsay. "Good shot, is that our weapon?"
"Wow, um, yeah, it-" She stammered still recovering from the moment of surprise. "Almost, it's a Japanese Katana, made of high carbon steel in the front of the blade for a sharp edge but it has low carbon steel in the back where it can absorb most of the impact, the curved blade adds to the cutting power. Traditionally the blades are well oiled and a lot of effort goes into maintaining them, because the oils can attract rust and mould. It is unusual to find blades of this type in the US as their import is fairly strictly controlled, but you know that for a price anyone can smuggle anything. Trying to find the owner is going to be tricky, but we can start by asking local collectors and the museum for help." Lindsay gushed, pouring out far more than Stella had expected.
"Kinda sounds familiar didn't you and Mac have a case just after you arrived? The guy was a martial arts expert and collected these things; he hung upside down from a tree to commit the murder." Stella suggested.
"Do you remember everyone's cases?" She pressed her eyes almost popping.
Stella shook her head, "just the interesting ones, Danny and I worked the other half of the case, a co-worker killed at the San Gennaro festival."
"I remember, Danny kept going on about the cannolis." She answered with a smile, "anyway, our guy was killed from the front, judging by the angle of the wound, and I'd say they were left handed." She added handing Stella a photo of their victims severed head which adequately displayed the way the wound was inflicted.
Stella took the photo and scrunched up her nose as she studied it and the katana Lindsay had just laid down on the bench. Lindsay watched her for a moment, knowing the silence wasn't deliberate, the look on Stella's face telling her she was thinking deeply about something. Almost as suddenly as she lapsed into silence she put down the photo and went to a computer and tapped the search criteria in. Lindsay joined her at the terminal and watched as the search ran before giving them a result. As the image flicked onto the screen, after a few clicks of the mouse a close up image of the sword from the previous case and the victims wound appeared side by side.
"That's exactly the same lack of markings on our vic." Lindsay exclaimed, surprised that the images were so close. "So we know the weapon is one that has no identifiable pattern for us to follow."
Adam stuck his head in the room, "I hope you're not going to use one of us for target practice," he quipped seeing the damaged bamboo poles and assortment of weapons. Then he became quite bashful and ran his hand through his hair. "Um Stella, I got that result you were waiting for, I got a hit to a four year old solved case." He offered handing her a sheet of paper, which she read.
"αυτό που συμβαίνει εδώ?" Stella seemed to curse as her eyes bounced between the paper in her hand and the details of the case on the computer screen, one she had discussed with Lindsay only moments before.
"How is that possible?" Questioned Lindsay as her brow furrowed as she too read the results. "How can we get Stanton's DNA on our vic?"
"Only one way I know of ... they used the same weapon." She frowned. "Let's find out how one weapon has been used in two murders four years apart when it should have been destroyed."
Stella lost no time in digging deeper into the information in the computer.
For any non Greek speakers out there this is what Stella says ....
αυτό που συμβαίνει εδώ, = what is happening here?
I know it's pretty tame and she is likely to have said something rather stronger, but I was reliant on online translators and couldn't come up with something sensisble when back translated. If there are any Greek speakers out there who can offer me something better I'll change it.