MALICIOUS INTENT

A/N: Well, who could resist such beautifully framed requests? In other words - oh, go on then! Here's...

Chapter Fourteen

Two days passed and nothing happened. The advertisement came and went in the New York Times; an obscure little thing, composed of only four words. 'Save my heart's desire'. It was signed 'L.M.'.

During this time, Mac was noticeably jumpier than usual. He looked over his shoulder far more times than was necessary, and paused every time he entered a room or opened a drawer. If his colleagues noticed, they certainly didn't comment. After all, he had good cause. On the surface, he remained as stoical as ever, though the expression in his eyes was decidedly wary.

This must be what Adam feels like all the time, he mused with interest, watching the nervous lab tech through two panels of glass as he bobbed about in front of his computer screen, captured by some inaudible beat that flowed from his iPod directly through his ears and into his brain. In comparison to Mac, Adam was trying to maintain a breezy and positive front - all the more painful to watch because it so clearly was a front. Still, Mac gave him points for effort.

"Any new leads?" asked Don, watching the direction of his gaze. The two men were taking a much needed break in Mac's office, sitting on either side of his desk with steaming mugs of coffee. Conversation was minimal but they were comfortable in their silence. It was a chance to relax and feel secure, just for a moment.

"We're taking a look at the other techs who received a letter of dismissal." Mac looked momentarily pained. "That should never have happened. It still makes me angry. And if Anthony Farrell was openly bitter about it, maybe someone else is seething quietly. It would certainly explain why they used Adam as the focus for their rage."

"But why target the CSIs? Why not simply hurt Adam? Not that I wish him any harm," Don added hastily, keeping his back turned on the AV lab in case, by virtue of some hidden talent, the lab rat was actually lip-reading their whole conversation. Damn. Now I'm getting paranoid too...

"I don't know." Mac sounded weary. Reaching for his mug, he took a thoughtful sip of the brew that sustained them all. "Did Farrell give up anything at all when you interviewed him?"

"You mean 'interrogated'." Don's grin was cheerful, and wicked. "Three hours, Mac, and all we got was an earful of ugly complaints. Man thinks that the world owes him respect just because he demands it. And he certainly hates Adam Ross. Which I don't really get." The detective looked quizzical. "Ross is just a harmless lab tech. Loopy, but harmless. How'd he ever manage to piss off a guy like Farrell?"

"He worked hard," said Mac, cryptically.

Don shrugged. "Either way, instinct says the ogre didn't do it. So that means it's someone else in the lab. Still no trace from the letters, or the pen?"

"Unfortunately, when your suspect works in a crime lab, they know how to hide the evidence. But they'll make a mistake in the end." Frowning, Mac stared at the pile of unsolved cases on the end of his desk. "They always do. And that's how we catch them."

"Hope it's soon, then," sighed the detective. "'Cos I'm really getting sick of this guy's whining..." His comment was light, but his eyes were serious as they took in the tightness of Mac's jaw and the twitch in his fingers as he reached for yet another dose of coffee.

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The following morning, Mac stepped out of the elevator and bumped straight into Elsa Rivers. Flustered, he gave the girl an apologetic smile.

"No - it was my fault," she admitted, keeping her face diverted. There was a suspicious redness around her eyes. Unwilling to pry, Mac still felt a strong urge to make sure that Elsa was all right.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Oh, no. I just got some... some bad news, that's all." She lifted her face to his at last and gave a watery smile. "I'm fine really." With a flick of her skirt, she whirled on her heels and darted away like a fish. Seconds later, she had disappeared altogether.

Mac felt more than a little unsettled by this encounter. Somehow, he had always assumed that the crime lab was a happy place to work. Strange, to be sure - but happy. Yet lately, he had been forced to dig a little deeper and now he saw that there was an ugly seam running just below the surface. Violent backgrounds, ugly disputes. Bitter jealousies. It was like one of those paintings where, from a distance, all seems harmony - until you move in closer and all the vices of the world are pictured there.

Stepping into his office, he hung up his coat and moved towards the desk to check his phone for messages.

He never made it.

Something caught his eye - a 'wrongness' about the room that he couldn't quite grasp - until he turned and stared at the photographs which lined his wall. Memories of the past, deeply personal and Mac's only display of pride.

Except that now they were slashed to ribbons.

Invading his own official sanctuary, someone had carefully removed all the glass from each and every picture, before slicing through them, over and over again.

With a gasp of horror, he strode to his desk and snatched up the photograph that was his most precious possession; a bittersweet refuge from the madness that was always his day - the smiling face of his wife.

But this, too, had been destroyed, in an act so simple and yet so shockingly violent that Mac could scarcely believe the evidence of his own eyes. He cradled the ruined picture to his chest and bowed his head.

I'm so sorry, Claire.

With an instinct born of shock, he reached out to straighten the files that had been knocked askew. And that was when he saw it. The final insult.

Thrust down into the very centre of his desk top was a medical scalpel, gleaming madly through through the sheen of blood that coated its surface. A single scrap of paper was pinned to the wood by its blade. Swallowing against the rage that burned inside him, Mac leaned over and read the cool black words.

'The next cut will be deeper'.

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A/N: More tomorrow! And 'Guest' - in reply to your extremely important question - just keep reading...