Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY; they belong to CBS.
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Chapter Nine: Get One, Lose One
Lindsey was still unconscious. Danny flipped through her chart. She had definitely been hit with something hard, right at the base of the skull. Not hard enough to kill her. But enough to make it hurt like hell and keep her out.
"We got the guy, Montana," Danny told her, taking her hand. "We got him." He sat down in his chair again. A stray hair had fallen into Lindsey's eye. Danny smoothed it away. "He took off running. Don tackled him like he played for the Jets or something. It was crazy." He smiled. "You're missing all the action."
She might never wake up. The realization hit him like a Mack truck. Danny tried to push the impossible future from his mind, but in all reality, it was a possibility. He squeezed her hand. "You listen to me," he said. "I don't want to come to work every morning and not see your beautiful face. So you're gonna make it, okay, Montana? You're stubborn as a freakin' Montana…mountain goat, or whatever you guys have out there. You're not gonna spend the rest of your life here. You're too damn stubborn to go out without a fight. You're gonna wake up, take like a week of sick leave, and then come back to work and argue with me. Got it, Montana?"
Lindsey, of course, didn't reply. But that was okay. Because if she would've woken up, she'd have seen Danny Messer-the big, tough detective - with tears in his eyes.
"You can't leave me, Montana," Danny told her. "Don't you even think about it."
His cell phone buzzed on vibrate. He checked it. It was Mac. Danny stood up, and with one last, long glance at Lindsey, he left the room to answer his boss's call.
Mac called Danny back to the office. He stood outside the interrogation room, watching Flack try to get some answers before the lawyer got there. Mac rolled his eyes.
"Mac? What've we got?" Danny came up behind his boss.
"Jorgen definitely took Lindsey. He's denying it, of course, even though we've got him on the damn surveillance tape," Mac explained. He looked tired. It was only five p.m., but the whole day had taken a lot out of everyone.
"I talked with the neighbor lady. She gave me the name of Teddy Jorgen's buddy that was helping him pay rent." Danny pulled a notebook from his pocket. "Gregory Gimatto."
Mac's eyes narrowed. "Why in the hell does that name sound familiar?"
Danny shrugged. "I'll go run it through the database. If he's got so much as a parking ticket, we'll know about it." Danny headed for one of the computers, Mac right behind him. Danny typed in the name. G-R-E-G-O-R-Y J-"
"Danny…Gimatto starts with a 'G'," Mac clarified.
Embarrassed, Danny quickly typed in the rest of the name. "You didn't hire me for my spelling skills," he reminded Mac. "You hired me for my keenly honed intuition and my wit."
"It wasn't for your wit," Mac replied, reading the screen. "That's why his name sounds familiar." Mac tapped the screen.
"Wait…I remember that one." Danny said. "I mean, I wasn't with the lab, then, but I know about the case. That was what, six years ago?"
"Five."
"Five," Danny said. "That was the one where he got busted for what…drug trafficking?"
"And a small assault and battery charge on the side," Mac added.
"Right! Yeah…and he got however long in prison..."
"Fifteen years."
"Good behavior? 'S that why he's out?" Danny guessed. He looked down the page. "Yup. Good behavior. Okay, anyway…so Gimatto's ticked at the crime lab. He runs into Jorgen one day on the street…"
"Offers to help him out financially if he sends us a message," Mac continued.
"So Jorgen grabs Lindsey. They work her over, then drop her off outside our door!" Danny finished. "Yes! Got him!"
Flack chose that moment to come outside. "I'm not getting anywhere. Tell me you got something."
"Ask him about his good friend Gregory Gimatto," Danny suggested.
There was a loud clang from inside the interrogation room. Flack, Mac, and Danny all exchanged looks.
"You don't think…" Flack whipped open the door.
Jorgen was on the floor. He was clutching at his chest. Flack groaned as he spotted the pen he used to take notes clutched in Jorgen's hand. Blood was starting to pool on the floor. Flack shrugged off his jacket and pressed it to the wound.
"Mac!" Flack yelled. "Mac, he just tried to off himself!"
"Call 911," Mac told Danny as he rushed inside the room.
