A/N: Thanks again for all the kind reviews and input. I am trying to keep a regular up-date going on this but my personal life is promising to go haywire over the next few days so I beg for patience. Thanks again.
Chapter 6
In due course the box of flowers and the card were dusted, examined, and taken into evidence by Mac and Stella. There was nothing on the box or the card, the box itself was a standard florist box, and the roses, which turned out to be good quality silk roses, could have come from one of a hundred different locations in New York, never mind being ordered on-line. To make matters even more complicated, the person who had delivered the gruesome gift was from a standard delivery company and, upon tracing the delivery back, came up with a false address, name, and phone number.
"Someone is covering their tracks," Mac said, studying the file that held the latest results of their search in his office. "And well."
"It also means someone is watching her," Stella said. "Or knows her routine."
"How many people knew she was going to be at the bakery today?" Mac asked Don.
"From what I was told, it's not exactly a secret but it's not something she broadcasts. Her sister and her stepmother knew about it because she'd been doing the same thing for the last two years like clock-work," Don said. He had sent Rose-Marie home and ordered her to call him the minute she was safe, which she had done. "Even Mama Gemma is so used to her routine and schedule it's on the main work schedule in her office. Catch is, Mama Gemma doesn't write in Rose-Marie's name, she writes in her nickname, Bella, so unless someone knew about her nickname, you wouldn't know that Rose-Marie and Bella were the same person and that Rose-Marie wasn't getting paid for what she did."
"It would just look like another worker's name at the bakery," Stella said, catching on.
"Right, and Rose-Marie never works the counters, always stays in the back," Don said.
"Any more calls or pictures?" Mac asked.
"Not since she changed her number," Don said. "She said she checked with her sister and those who had the number but everyone's got the same story; they didn't give out her number to anyone they didn't trust."
"E-mail?" Stella asked.
"Nothing so far," Don replied. "She doesn't even use Facebook or MySpace or any of those other public profile websites. Her e-mail address is even listed under a fake name."
"So every available precaution that could be taken has been taken," Mac said. "That makes this stalker one very determined stalker."
"And what's got me concerned is how far this stalker will go," Don said. "I don't want to see Rose-Marie end up dead because of some wacko's obsession with her." Then his cell rang and he checked it. It was none other than Rose-Marie. "Hey," he said.
"Don, I think you'd better get back here," came Rose-Marie's voice, a voice that was shaking and clearly on the edge of hysteria.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, realizing something was up.
"Whoever this sicko is, his latest present, well, let's just say it might be a good idea if you and your CSI friends brought someone who knew how to handle bio-hazardous material," Rose-Marie said.
"Bio-hazardous material? What do you mean?" he asked, not liking the sound of this.
"How about a basket full of roses soaked in blood?" she asked.
"Oh hell," Don hissed. "Don't touch it, we'll be there asap" he promised. He hung up and relayed the message to Mac and Stella. "Rose-Marie's sicko just got sicker; she just got a basket soaked in blood."
The Desmond house, if one wanted to call it a house, was huge but modest by New York standards. A menacing security gate kept the world out and only allowed admittance after pressing the gate buzzer and speaking to someone. That same gate buzzer also had a camera built in to it, as Don found out when he was asked to show his badge.
"These people are big on privacy," he commented to Danny Messer, who had been asked to come along.
"The bigger the privacy, the bigger the challenge for some people," was the reply. "Check out those idiots," he continued, referring to the number of people hanging around the gate, all armed with long-range cameras.
Inside the foyer of the house, after being greeted with a butler with salt-and-pepper hair and a distinguished look about him, Mac, Stella, Don, and Danny were lead to the kitchen area near the back of the house.
"A baker's dream," Stella commented, looking around. "Rose-Marie must love this place."
The butler smiled fondly. "It is one of the places where she can often be found, especially when she was a little girl," he said.
"Let me guess, she helps with the baking, much to the cook's dismay," Don quipped.
"That did used to be the case at first, sir," the butler said, "but then he realized that Ms. Desmond was genuinely interested in baking and possessed that rare gift for working with delicate pastries and not having them turn into bricks."
"I envy anyone who can do that," Stella admitted.
"Where is Rose-Marie anyway?" Don asked.
"Right here," came a shaky voice as a door in the kitchen opened and Rose-Marie emerged, looking pale and shaky. "Any parcels we get, especially ones like that, we put in the kitchen or in my dad's office. As it was addressed to me, it was put in the kitchen, which is where I like to spend the majority of my meals and my coffee time." She held up a small amber-colored bottle. "Normally I won't touch alcohol, never mind this stuff, but after this, I decided I needed a shot."
"Why down there?" Don asked.
"Because we keep the super good, really expensive stuff in the wine cellar, mostly for security reasons," she explained. "And this is one of the super-duper good stuff."
"Crown Royal Cask No. 16, that is the super good stuff all right," Mac commented, recognizing the bottle.
"It was either that or the Crown Royal XR," she admitted, "but I didn't like the way it smelled, so I thought I'd try a shot of this stuff."
"You're gonna have a hell of a hang-over," Don said.
"Not really; I'm only going to take a very, very small shot; I might get a hell of a headache, but no hang-over," Rose-Marie said. "Paul, would you do the honors?" She handed him the bottle.
"Certainly, miss," he said, handling the bottle with respect and dignity. He vanished out of the kitchen and Rose-Marie took Don and the team to where the parcel was.
Ordinary brown wrapping paper lay on a simple kitchen table. On it lay a sheet of clear cellophane decorated with hearts. On that was what should have been an even prettier basket of red roses, except for the blood that was spilling from the basket, on to the table, and dripping on the floor. A strong, rotten-meat smell was coming from the basket, causing more than a few wrinkled noses.
"This came with it," Rose-Marie said, pointing to a Garfield Valentine's card on the table, well away from the blood.
Danny snapped on some latex gloves and picked up the card, opening it. Inside the card was a printed message that had been taped to the inside of the card.
"A tisket, a tasket
A blood-soaked basket.
Roses aglore
For the girl I adore.
I'm bidding my time
'Cause soon you'll be mine," Danny read out-loud. "I hate to ask, but who did you piss off?" he asked Rose-Marie.
"Your guess is as good as mine at the moment," she replied tiredly, shrugging. "I guess someone thought the black roses at the bakery weren't good enough and decided to follow up with this one."
Paul reappeared beside her, holding a silver tray with a small shot glass on it. In the glass was about a finger's worth of amber liquid. Beside the glass were four other empty shot glasses and the Crown Royal Cask. No 16 bottle. "Would our guests care for a shot of the whiskey?" he asked politely.
"Normally I don't drink on the job but I can make an exception this time," Mac said. "I don't make a point of turning down a glass of the really good whiskey, especially if it's Crown Royal."
"I knew you liked your whiskey but I didn't realize it went that far," Stella quipped as Paul neatly served him a glass of the whiskey.
"This isn't just any whiskey, Stella," Mac said as he sniffed the liquid. "Crown Royal is a Canadian whiskey and one of the top sellers in the U.S. A bottle of Crown Royal Cask No. 16 goes for over $100, was introduced late in 2007, and only the Crown Royal XR is more expensive; a bottle of that stuff goes for about $160."
"Talk about expensive tastes," Danny quipped.
"And worth it; the whiskey is aged in special oak cognac caskets that are about twelve years old and from a forest in France," Mac said, taking a careful sip.
"The Limousin forest, to be exact," Paul said proudly, clearly recognizing a man who appreciated a good drink. Mac nodded in confirmation.
While Mac enjoyed his rare treat, Stella and Danny processed Rose-Marie's latest present.
"Blood isn't human, which could account for the smell," she reported.
"And so far no prints on the cellophane; the wrapping paper might be better but I'm going to need Rose-Marie's prints for elimination, as well as the prints of anyone who handled this before it got to Rose-Marie."
"Of course," Rose-Marie said. "Paul, will you find out who signed and accepted the... thing?"
"Certainly, miss," Paul said, slipping away.
"This is getting out of hand," Don said. "First the text and pictures, then the silk roses, and now this. Whoever this guy is, he knows where you live and where you frequent."
"I do not want to stay by myself tonight," she muttered.
"Where are the rest of your family?" Mac asked.
"Marion and Dad are out of town for the weekend at some fancy business function or another and Jay is with a bunch of friends celebrating somebody's birthday. She told me it would be an all-niter and possibly an all-weekender," Rose-Marie said.
"And the staff?" Don asked.
"The only consistent person here is Paul but he has an apartment that's attached to the house; the rest of the staff leave by nine at night at the latest, unless there's some function going on at the house," Rose-Marie said. "We've got a pretty good alarm system in place and there's a silent alarm in every room of the house but the grounds are also pretty secure and a contracted security company checks the area on a regular basis."
"And that's all fine and dandy but if a parcel like that got in, you're worried about what else might get in," Don guessed.
"Exactly," she said. She grinned at him. "We've got a really nice guest room..."
He grinned back. "New York Rangers verses New Jersey Devils tonight," he said.
"And we've got a very nice sixty-five inch HDTV widescreen plasma that you can watch the game on," she said sweetly, knowing he was a hockey fan. Danny whistled appreciatively. "Plus a top-of-the-line surround sound system so you don't miss anything, and some very comfortable leather couches so you can enjoy the game in comfort."
"And beer?" Don asked, grinning.
"Let Paul know what you like and he'll make sure there's a cold one for you when you want it," she said, grinning back.
"You don't play fair," he said.
"When I'm scared, you're damn right I don't," she shot back, allowing Stella to take her prints.
"I'll pack a bag," Don said.
It didn't take much longer for Mac, Stella, and Danny to finish processing the parcel and its contents, as well as getting prints from the house staff for elimination purposes. They gathered everything up and, after Don promised her he would be back before the hockey game started, left.
Rose-Marie was on edge for the rest of the evening, doing everything she could to relax. She personally made up the bed in the guest room across from her room and saw that it was stocked with the standard guest items. She also helped the cook, a cheerful man by the name of Daniel, make a simple but hearty dinner that could also be eaten cold. She checked her e-mail (nothing of any interest), watched the early news, did a short work-out to try and ease some of the stress, and debated with herself as to whether or not to try and seduce Don that night. Deciding not to deliberately try and seduce him, she settled on a pair of her favorite, not-at-all sexy pajamas and put them aside for later. The pajamas were a light blue, extra-extra large, crew-neck tee-shirt with Disney's Eeyore on it and dark blue plaid flannel pajama bottoms that were a bit worn from wear.
As promised, Don showed up before the hockey game started and promptly chowed down on the perfectly cooked boneless loin steak, Italian-flavored mashed potatoes, and steaming vegetables. For desert there was hot mixed berry crumble and vanilla ice cream. It was simple fare but for a man like Don who was used to cooking for himself, it was heaven. Imagine his surprise when he realized that what he had eaten was also very healthy; low in fat, plenty of nutrients, and low in calories, all things Rose-Marie had to watch as part of her diet.
"So you managed to keep it healthy without sacrificing taste," he said, polishing off the rest of his desert.
"A common misconception," she admitted. "Eating right doesn't mean giving up taste or quality, it just means making the right choices. A lean steak can actually taste as good as a regular steak but there's less fat. It's all in how it's cooked."
When the hockey game came on, Paul made sure Don had plenty of cold beer available and left the two of them in peace. Don grinned when he saw Rose-Marie's pajamas when she padded down to join him on the couch.
"And here I was expecting satin and lace," he quipped.
"Not for a hockey game," she said, grinning. "Besides, I'm saving the really good stuff for later."
"Yeah?" he asked, images coming to his mind.
"You'll find out," she teased. "But not tonight."
"Sounds promising."
She just grinned and snuggled against him on the couch.