Chapter Thirty-nine: A New Life
When he arrived at this ramshackle apartment he was surprised to find Stella, of all people, waiting outside his door. She held in one hand a cup of warm coffee, steam still coming from the hot liquid. Apparently she had not been waiting too long. Danny expected her to be at home with her husband sound a sleep at his side, especially given the proceedings of the day. To have her turn up outside his place, it must have meant something. His step faltered when he first saw her and for a moment he thought of turning right around and leaving. But before he could even get the thought through his head she turned, spotting him. Wondering what she wanted with him he trudged forward, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Something I can do for you, detective?" he inquired. He stopped before her unwilling to welcome her into his apartment. This was not someone he planned on getting close with, not when he was making plans to leave the city. Perhaps had his life taken a different turn they might have been able to be friends.
"I came to offer you this," she said as she produced an envelope from her back pocket. His name had been written across the front in simple black pen. "I think you should read it over before following through with those plans of yours," she told him before brushing passed him on her way out of the building.
Danny watched over his shoulder until she disappeared around the corner. A second later he heard the ding of the elevator. His eyes went back to the envelope. Who had sent it? What did it contain? More importantly, how the hell did she know he was going to leave? Shaking his head he slipped his keys out of his pocket and into the lock. He stepped into the apartment a heartbeat later, shutting the door quietly behind him. The place seemed so small, so cold now for some strange reason. There had been days when he wanted to escape the place, but they had been few and far between. This had been his home, the place where he rested his head after dealing with Sonny's shit every day. In some ways it had been an escape, in other ways a cage. Now it was just one more thing binding him to the city. One more thing to dump when he packed his bags and made his retreat.
Throwing the keys on the coffee table along with the envelope he moved into the kitchen in search of something to have for a late dinner. He should probably have headed off to bed given the late hour, but the growling in his stomach refused to be ignored. Grabbing at a piece of leftover pizza in the fridge and cold can of soda he shuffled back into the living room. Sinking down on the threadbare sofa he popped on the television, a news report coming across the airwaves. The anchor was talking about a fire. He hit a button, changed the channel until he found some late night movie to get lost in. Munching on the pizza, washing it down with the soda, it was not until the third or fourth time that he realized he kept glancing toward the envelope.
He should just throw it away.
Forget about it.
But the desire to know what waited for him on the inside kept gnawing at his mind. When the curiosity got to be too much he wiped his hand on his already grimy jeans and plucked the white envelope from where it rested on the coffee table. Carefully he tore it open, producing a neatly handwritten letter. Flipping it over he frowned finding it signed, and therefore most likely written by Mac Taylor. What could the head of the crime lab have to say to him that he actually took the time to sit down and write a letter? Turning it back over he began to read the words meant only for his eyes. All the while in the back of his mind he kept thinking of Flack lying in that hospital bed.
When he reached the end of the letter he stared at it, not entirely willing to believe the black ink words. He placed it on the coffee table, stood up and ditched his empty can in the recycling bin. Walking back toward the couch he paused, his eyes on the letter. He headed for the window instead, gazing down over the city. Every neatly printed word echoed in his mind as he watched the traffic pass on the street below. It had been pretty shocking, definitely not the sort of thing he expected to read. And it gave him plenty to think about.
If he left the city he would get a fresh shot at life. He could make up any story he wanted to explain his past. The sort of past most people found mundane, boring. He never once had to mention Sonny's name or the things he stood by and let Sonny commit. He could craft a whole new life, become someone new. Or he could stay in the city, deal with the haunting memories. Face his demons. And maybe, just maybe have a life with Flack.
Danny glanced back at the letter, a nervous flutter in his stomach. It might just be the thing that swayed his decision.
Of all the things he expected to read in the letter what he actually found never once crossed his mind. Who would have thought he would be handed a chance to turn his life around? Who would have thought he would get a job offer?
From Detective Mac Taylor.
To work at the crime lab.