A/N: Poor Flack, what's a big brother like him to do when his little sister becomes an unwilling participant in a murder case? R and R, please and thank you and sorry so long on the up-date. Thanks goes to those who took the time to leave the previous reviews.

Chapter 10

"What's the harm in a little fun, Maddy? It's Halloween and you deserve a break," Flack said, taking a sip from his coffee as he studied his sister sitting across from him at his desk at the NYPD. "Go to the party and have a bit of fun. As long as you're careful, I'm not going to freak or anything."

Flack was trying to convince Madigan that it was okay to have a little bit of fun and go to a Halloween party that a friend of hers had invited her to for later that night. She had initially turned the invitation down, saying she had to work the next day, which wasn't true but she was trying to maintain a clean image with her brother.

"You sure?" she asked.

He nodded. "You've been working way too hard, kiddo. Go to the party, have a bit of clean, harmless fun and you never know, you might meet a nice guy."

She chuckled at that. "A nice guy at a party? That'll be the day, big brother, that'll be the day." She sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair, thinking. What harm could it do? Besides, she hadn't been to a party in a long time. "What the heck, might as well. In that case, I just need a costume."

"Any ideas?"

She looked at him and started grinning. An idea was coming to her. "You got an old suit, shirt, and tie I can borrow?"

Flack mentally went through his closest and nodded. "Yeah, a dark brown one that's seen better days. Bought it about two years ago for a court case and I've had to take down a few suspects in it. It's the pin-striped one."

"I know the one you're talking about, yeah."

"Help yourself to that and any shirt and tie you can find," he said. "What are you going as?"

She grinned. "You."

On her way home, Madigan swung by a dollar store and found a toy police set, complete with cuffs and holder, badge, and gun and holder. Being a smartass, she went one step further and found a dark brown 'mustache'. At home, she found the aforementioned suit, a slightly worn light blue dress shirt, and a nice, simple tie. She had comfortable black shoes of her own, so that wasn't a problem. The pants were a bit loose, a problem solved by a belt, and the jacket was a bit large but that was fine. Using a bit of gel, she slicked back her hair into a style she'd seen Flack and Danny wear often enough. Then she applied the mustache to her upper lip and grinned at herself with satisfaction.

Having agreed to meet her friend at the club where the party was being held, Madigan decided to swing by the NYPD on her way. At a local bakery, she grabbed a container of Halloween cookies for her brother as an excuse and a treat.

When Flack saw Madigan making her way towards him, his eyebrows shot up and then he started grinning. The suit was a bit large on her, since there was a height difference of several inches between them, but she looked damn good.

"Mustache was a nice touch," he said, grinning broadly and accepting the cookies she handed him.

"And the only time you'll ever see me wielding a badge so enjoy this while you can," she quipped, grinning back.

He lifted the bottom of her coat and said, "Yup, gun's facing the right way, badge in the right spot. You got your cell and identification?"

"Cell on the back and clipped, identification in my travel pouch. I even have a mini Maglite, just in case," she said, referring to a very slim fanny pack that could be worn under the shirt. This was a common thing for travelers as it was safer for them to carry their identification and other important items there rather than in their wallet or purse, decreasing the risk of pick-pockets getting anything valuable. Her cell was attached to her belt by a slim, retractable cord that also prevented thievery. "If there's a problem, I'll call you, I promise."

Four hours later:

"Allie? Allie, where are you?" Madigan called, concerned as she looked down the alleyway behind the club. That was the last place a couple of by-standers had seen her friend, Alison, go with a guy she'd met at the party. That had been half an hour ago and Alison hadn't returned to the party. Now Madigan felt that tingle at the back of her neck that said there was trouble.

She took out her Maglite, glad she'd brought it with her, and shined it down the alleyway at head-height. "Allie?" she called again, hand going to her cell, just in case. A faint moan caught her attention, and so did something else. Moving quickly in to the alley but keeping a close eye out for trouble, Madigan came upon the last thing she ever expected to find; her friend, curled up on the ground, blood seeping from what looked like various stab wounds from her chest region.

Alison was a pretty, black-haired girl, twenty, and still in college. She and Madigan had become friends at the gym and it was Alison who had issued the party invitation. Now she was here and in very serious trouble. Madigan had her cell out and dialing 9-1-1 before she was even on her knees next to her friend.

"9-1-1, please state your emergency," the operator said.

"I need paramedics to the alleyway left to the Wild Times club on ninety-first avenue and eighty-second street stat! I've got a female victim with multiple stab wounds to the chest region and she's fading fast!" Madigan snapped.

"Paramedics are enroute to your location," the operator said calmly.

"Maddy," Alison whispered hoarsely.

"Hang on, Allie, you hear me? You hang on. Do you know who did this to you?" Madigan demanded, ripping Alison's skirt; she was dressed as a serving wench; and making makeshift bandages to try and stop the flow of blood while tucking her cell between her ear and neck.

Alison nodded weakly. "Harry Potter…"

"Harry Potter?" Madigan asked incredulously. That didn't make any sense.

Alison nodded again. "Chamber of secrets," she whispered. She was fading fast and Madigan could see it.

"Chamber of secrets? I don't understand," Madigan said, desperately. Alison just smiled sadly. And the light went out of her eyes. "Alison? Alison, you get your butt back here, you hear me?" she demanded frantically. There was no response.

"Ma'am, ma'am, what's your status?" the operator demanded, worry in her voice.

Feeling a familiar emptiness settle on her shoulders, Madigan said, "She's gone. I was too late." She could hear the sirens drawing closer and see the lights flashing. The paramedics. They were too late too. She stood up and stepped away from Alison, aware that Alison was now a crime scene. "Umm, listen, I don't know how you guys work, but could you get ahold of the NYPD dispatch and have them send Detective Don Flack Jr. my way? He's my brother and… I need him," she said to the operator.

"Certainly, ma'am. Are you going to be okay?" the operator asked.

Madigan smiled sadly as she waved her Maglite to attract the paramedics. "Is anyone ever okay when their friend dies right in front of them?"

"Good point," the operator said sadly.

"The paramedics are here," Madigan said, moving out of their way to let them do their thing even though she knew there was nothing that could be done anymore, at least, not by them.

"And dispatch has been notified. Detective Flack is on his way."

"Thank you." And she hung up.

Flack was frantic. He'd just gotten a call from dispatch that said his sister was involved in a homicide and had requested his presence at the very club she'd gone to join her friend, Alison, at, saying that was where the Halloween party was at. Pulling up to the curb where an ambulance and several cop cars were flashing their lights, Flack bolted from his car and quickly searched for Madigan. He'd been off duty when he'd gotten the call and was thus dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Spotting his sister sitting in an open cop car and looking absolutely miserable, he flashed his badge at a cop and slipped under the yellow tape, making his way to her.

"Hey Maddy," he said, crouching down beside her. "What happened?"

"Do you remember Alison Prokop?" she asked. He nodded. He remembered her, having met the giggling girl once. "I was Designated Driver, the sober one, so to speak, and Allie and I agreed to stick close because of the number weirdoes out right now." She sighed heavily. "Anyway, around eleven-twenty p.m. I lost track of her. Last time I saw her, she was with some guy with wide glasses and dark clothing. Couldn't make out a damn thing with the crowds and the lighting. So I started asking questions and was told she'd left the building and was last spotted going in to the alleyway with a cloaked person. I found her bleeding to death from multiple stab wounds, called 9-1-1, used her skirt as makeshift compresses to try and stop the bleeding, and she died anyway. Took me about half an hour to find her after I lost track of her."

"Did she say anything, give any indication as to who her attacker was?" he asked.

"She said Harry Potter and chamber of secrets before she died but that was about it. Other than the book and the movie, it doesn't mean a damn thing to me," she replied.

"Okay, it's okay," he soothed.

"Donny, I swear, I'm stone-cold sober but I can't get the other cops to believe me, especially since I've got Allie's blood on my hands," she said, showing him her blood-covered hands. Tears filled her eyes.

"A breath-analyzer test can verify that," came Mac's voice as he joined them, case in hand. He'd gotten the call to the crime scene.

"Which I'll be quite happy to take," she said. "I just want this blood off my hands!"

"That's understandable," Mac said. "Unfortunately, you know there's a few things we're going to have to do first."

She nodded tiredly and leaned her head against the car doorframe. "Shoe prints, finger prints, and DNA swab for process of elimination?" Mac nodded, setting his kit down and taking out a pair of gloves. "Help yourself."

"You understand this is one case I can't get involved in, right?" Flack asked his sister.

"First on the scene, first suspect and the suspect in this case happens to be me, a.k.a. your sister and if you get involved, it could be seen as conflict of interest," she said calmly, closing her eyes.

Both men smiled. "For someone who's not a cop, you sure know plenty," Mac said, opening his kit and removing a swab for the DNA swab. "Mouth open."

She obliged him, without opening her eyes, before grunting and saying, "I hang around you guys too much."

"Maybe you should think about becoming a CSI," Flack quipped, grinning.

"Great idea, teach me how to hide the bodies better," she quipped. Then she cracked one eye open and glared at him. "Not a chance."