Detective Mac Taylor laughed at the girl sitting across from him, who was laughing so hard she was struggling to keep from falling off her chair. They had spent most of the day in his office, with only a small break when Danny brought them sandwiches from the deli. They had spent an hour going through photos in awkward, stilted conversation before Jordan had finally cracked a joke out of exasperation. Mac had chuckled in surprise, further surprising Jordan. From that point on, they had both settled into a more lighthearted workflow. Jordan began to put more effort into making Mac smile; he, in turn, would chuckle at her efforts and finally began to make her laugh in return.

They had gone over most of the evidence in the case, poring over photos for hours. Much to Jordan's surprise, she was able to fill in most of the blanks that the evidence wasn't able to satisfy. She was able to tell Mac what in the office had disturbed. Much like Danny had thought, the coach had a rather unorganized office to begin with so it was difficult to discern what specifically had been moved by the killer and what was the disorganized environment of the coach's. She had been in the office multiple times and was able to determine what areas were disturbed.

Based on what she had told him, his suspicions were confirmed; the coach's office had been ransacked. It was obvious that the killer was looking for something specific, especially connected to the coach's desk and file cabinets. Mac was supposed to be showing her photos of the files so she could possibly notice if any were missing, but he was currently invested in making her laugh. They had been mainly chatting, rather than working, for quite some time. A lab tech coming in to get Mac's signature caused Jordan to pull up short. Mac glanced up at her as the tech left.

"I guess we should continue."

She nodded. He pulled up a new series of photos.

"This is the file cabinet in Coach Jones' office." He enlarged a photo. "This smudge of blood on the handle tells us that the killer opened the cabinet after Coach was murdered, we call it transfer. I'm hoping you can tell me what is missing, if anything is."

She hesitantly shook her head. "I don't know if I can. I mean, I never really saw what was inside, only once or twice."

Mac nodded. "That's ok. Just scan through the pictures and tell me if anything stands out."

He had set up the larger monitor behind his desk to display the evidence for her. She stared at the screen as he scanned through them, one by one. Suddenly she pointed.

"There! Go back!"

He scanned back two pictures. She stood up and came around his desk to get closer to the screen. She pointed at a close up photo of the remaining files.

"There's not enough."

He stood up next to her, focusing on where she was pointing.

"Not enough what?"

"Files. Player files, that's what he keeps…" she caught herself. "Kept in this drawer. I know because I saw mine once and he put it in here." She panned her finger across the screen. "Are there more of this drawer?"

Mac cycled through the catalogue, isolating three photos of the drawer and placing them side by side on the screen. She moved from one to the next, following with her finger.

"Some are missing."

He turned to her. "Player files? Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Definitely."

"Would he have kept them in another drawer? Maybe he moved them recently?"

"No, I don't think so. See, there's Morgan's and Cassie's but Megan's and Emma's are gone."

He gave her a dubious look, indicating that her logic didn't make sense. She gave him an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry. They'd be alphabetical. Morgan Dawes and Cassie Franks' are there, but Megan Gardner and Emma Hable's are missing." She paused as a thought came to her. "Huh. That's weird."

"What is it?"

"Mine's gone too. I just realized, I'd be in between Megan and Emma."

She stared in confusion at the screen while Mac felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He wasn't sure what was bothering him, but he trusted his instincts enough to know that something about this case wasn't right. He filed it away until he had evidence to prove it.

"Is there anything else missing?"

She scanned over the files again. "Yeah, one more. Katie James' file should be there. But it picks up right after her, everyone else's is there. Except…" she moved her hand between the pictures, obviously searching for something.

"What's wrong?"

She pointed to a file from the center photo. "Coach Kate. Her file is here. I didn't know she even had a file."

"Coach Kate?"

"The assistant coach." She rolled her eyes. "I guess head coach now. Oh joy. Anyway, if she has a file, I'd think Coach would too. His isn't here though."

Mac came up close behind her, scanning through the pictures as well. "What would be in these files?"

"Basic stuff. Name, address," Mac suddenly guessed why the coach's was missing. Jordan kept talking "age, health information, trainer reports, stuff like that. I saw mine once, it had my chart from the physical and all the updates from Scott when I pulled my tendon, plus the form when he cleared me for playing again. Nothing important, just coaching stuff."

Mac worked his mouth in concentration, his mind spinning in all directions as a new flow of theories came to his attention. He was so intent that he missed Jordan absent-mindedly stepping back from the screen. His attention was suddenly pulled to her when her shoe caught on the leg of his desk and she pitched backwards. He shot out his hand to grab her as she began to fall, catching her shoulder and keeping her upright. She turned a grateful smile towards him that froze on her face when she realized what he was staring at.

She had taken off her team jacket earlier, slinging it around the back of her chair, which left her in a short-sleeved, faded shirt. Mac's grip on her shoulder had pulled the material high up her arm, revealing the yellowing bruises on her bicep. He had helped her gain her balance and was on the verge of teasing her when he saw them, halting his response. He held her shoulder firmly, using his thumb to pull the shirt higher as he followed the extent of the bruising up her arm. She finally moved into action, pulling her arm away from him in several unsuccessful jerks before he released her. She moved away from him, sitting down on the couch against the wall rather than her previous chair. He moved around his desk, crouching down in front of her but keeping distance between them.

"Jordan, where did you get those?"

She kept her gaze somewhere around his collar, not meeting his eyes.

"Get what?"

"Jordan."

That one word told her that he wasn't going to stop, or take no for an answer. She looked up and smiled, but he could tell she was trying to play it off.

"C'mon, Mac. I play a high contact sport. I get tons of bruises every week."

He moved closer. "Those aren't from soccer."

She tried again to brush it off. "Really."

He carefully reached out, pushing her sleeve high up her arm with one hand. With the other, he gently circled her arm, giving her a pointed look when the bruise pattern matched a handprint perfectly. She deflated, her carefree attitude leaving as quickly as it came.

"It's no big deal, ok? Just drop it."

He let her go, sitting down next to her on the couch. "Jordan, it is a big deal. Someone grabbed you hard enough to leave a mark."

She picked at her nails, resting her elbows on her legs and keeping her head down. "That could've been anybody. Maybe it was an accident."

"Was it?"

She didn't reply. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees in a mirror of her posture.

"Jordan, part of my job is not only finding evidence, but putting it in context. For instance, the evidence is telling me that someone grabbed you, tightly. From the angle I would say that whoever it was is much taller than you and has a hand about the size of mine."

He held out his hand to show her. She stared at it but said nothing. He continued. "The color says that this bruise is around two days old. About the time you were at the precinct. When your father escorted you out, he grabbed your arm in that spot."

Her face creased when he mentioned her father. His sinking feeling was back in full force, now that he had evidence to back his instinct. He ducked his head to the same level as hers.

"Jordan. Did your father give you those bruises?"

She focused on the ground, staying silent. He thought she wasn't going to respond, but he heard her quietly speak.

"He didn't mean it."

He frowned. One glance at his face sent her into a rapid-fire slurry of defensive remarks.

"He was upset because I was at the precinct and he was worried that I wasn't handling everything and my coach had just died and he just wanted me to be safe and…"

Mac held up a hand, cutting her off mid-rant. He gently encircled her arm again, matching his hand up to the bruises.

"This doesn't show safety. This shows anger. This shows control."

She was eyeing his hand around her arm, but she didn't pull away. He slid his hand down to just above her elbow, squeezing gently in a comforting gesture. When she made eye contact with him, he softened his gaze.

"I've been a cop for a long time, Jordan. I see a lot of people who get hurt by those they love. I hear a lot of excuses. But I want you to listen to me." He paused until he was sure he had her full attention. "None of those excuses justify the pain. None. There is no excuse for hurting someone, especially your own child."

He gently let go. She dropped her head again, obviously conflicted. He was about to speak again when Adam knocked on his door. He mentally growled in frustration, but waved him in, trying to keep the annoyance off his face. Adam hesitantly pushed the door open a crack.

"Uh, Boss? You, uh, said to bring the, uh, the files. I, uh, well… that is, I mean, I… I thought that, uh, that you… that…"

Mac couldn't help but be amused. "Adam."

Adam cut himself off. Mac waved his hand for the results, scanning through the list as Adam nervously backtracked out of the room.

"Tell Danny to get in here, I have a lead he needs to track down."

Adam nodded and split, obviously grateful to be out of the tension in Mac's office. Jordan had composed her features into a guarded mask, causing Mac to move the issue to the back burner for the moment, knowing she wouldn't be responsive. He stood to move back to his desk.

"We aren't finished with this."

He waited until she nodded before he walked around and sat down, typing on his computer to upload Adam's results. He had partially recovered some of the deleted files, most of which were severely damaged when the hard drive broke. He pointed to the tablet he had left beside Jordan.

"Look through that list. See if you can find any files you recognize, or anything that would tell me who accessed what."

She scrubbed at her face, nodding as she picked up the tablet. She started slowly panning through the list as Danny came through the door.

"Mac. I heard you were looking for me?"

Mac nodded, focused on his computer. Danny turned back to glance at Jordan who had watched him come in. He gave her his disarming smile.

"How you doin'?"

Mac glanced up as she grinned, smiling at her positive response to Danny's easy-going personality. When Danny turned back, Mac was all business.

"Jordan was able to determine that some of the player's files were taken from this cabinet."

He showed Danny the photo's she had scanned through. Danny squinted at them.

"Are we thinking this was our killer?"

Mac shook his head. "Doesn't fit. Based on what she told me would be inside them, there is no connection to the personal ransacking the killer went through to these files of unrelated people."

Jordan's head snapped up, obviously having not considered his angle. She immediately returned to her tablet once she realized he had noticed. He continued explaining to the now amused Danny.

"I'm thinking we need to bring in Scott Bailey."

Danny nodded. "The elusive trainer. Flack is working to get him down to the precinct as we speak. We thinking he could be our guy?"

"I'm thinking he has something to share with us."

Danny was about to ask another question when Jordan made a hollow noise as all the breath left her body. Both he and Mac turned instantly to focus on her. She sat frozen in place, staring in horror at the tablet in her hands. Danny made a quick grab to catch it as it tumbled from her lifeless fingers. He scanned through the list, trying to determine what had caused her panic as Mac rounded the desk to crouch in front of her.

"Jordan! What is it? What did you find?"

She pointed to the tablet, taking it between shaking hands as Danny gave it back. She highlighted a file name on the list, turning it to show Mac. He took the tablet from her. The file she had indicated was labeled "JG/DG"

"Do you know what that is?"

She nodded, her gaze unfocused and off to the side. She couldn't seem to form words. Mac gently caught one of her hands to get her attention focused on him.

"Jordan, I need you to talk to me. What was in that file?"

She took a shuddering breath and blew it out in a rush. "That was the file, he told me about it. I thought he was bluffing, I didn't think he meant it."

"What was in the file, Jordan?"

She finally made eye contact with him. "He knew. Coach knew about…" she trailed off, indicating the bruises on her arm with a vague gesture. "He told me he was making a file, collecting 'evidence'. He told me that he'd take care of it. I told him not too, I thought he was bluffing. He showed me a file on his computer, that was it."

Mac frowned down at the tablet in shock. "He wouldn't have deleted it. He must have surprised the killer in his office, deleting the files. He would have tried getting it back…" he stopped himself from finishing his thought, but Jordan had already picked up on his line of reasoning.

"Oh my God! Is that why he was killed?"